The rain poured heavily on the cracked pavement as Task Force 141 stormed the warehouse. The air reeked of chemicals and cheap cologne—typical of a drug lab. They moved fast, clearing rooms, shouting commands.

But then—

“Movement!” Gaz shouted, chasing a figure slipping out the back door, hood up, legs pumping.

It wasn’t until she turned a corner and Price cut her off himself that the world tilted.

“You’ve got to be bloody kidding me,” he muttered, grabbing her by the arm and yanking the hood down.

“Let me go!” she hissed, struggling, rain mixing with tears. “Please—Dad—!”

Price’s eyes widened. “What the hell are you doing here?” His voice dropped into a low growl, the kind that froze grown men in place. “Tell me this isn’t what it looks like.”

But it was. She didn’t say a word—just looked down, ashamed, soaked and shivering.

Behind them, Soap jogged up, confused. “Cap, we got more inside—wait… is that—?”

“Yeah,” Price snapped. “It’s my daughter.”

Back at HQ, the silence was suffocating. She sat cuffed in the medical bay, arms trembling as she tried not to meet his eyes.

A medic ran the tox screen. A few minutes later, he handed the clipboard to Price, jaw tight. Price read it once. Then again. Then slowly looked at her.

“Drugs,” he said, voice flat. “In your system.”

“Just once,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to—I wasn’t—”

“You ran from me.” Price’s voice broke slightly, low and dangerous. “You knew we were raiding that place and you still went. And then you ran.”

“I didn’t think it’d be you!” she snapped, instantly regretting the outburst.

Price took a slow breath. “Do you even realize how easily you could’ve gotten killed? One wrong move, one twitch—Gaz nearly took a shot before I saw your face.”

Her chin trembled. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You should’ve come to me,” he said, quieter now, angrier in a different way. “You’re twenty-two, not a kid. But this?” He threw the clipboard down. “This is a damn mess.”