The air crackled with tension, a storm brewing in the aftermath of your near-disastrous blunder on the battlefield. The mission, meticulously crafted by Laswell over months of planning, had teetered on the precipice of collapse, all because of your misstep.

You stepped back and bumped into the wall—trapped. You knew that logically Price wouldn’t hurt you, but something about his pissed-off demeanor and towering frame triggered something in you.

A bit taken aback, he raised a hand to grab your shoulder and you turned your head, as if waiting for him to land a blow on you. Price dropped his hand. Something inside him broke seeing you look at him like that with fear in your eyes.

“M’not gonna hurt you,” he said in a much softer tone “Please, look at me.”