In the quiet recesses of the military bastion lies the Captain John Price's office.

The walls are adorned with regimental insignia and maps, while the desk bears the weight of classified documents.

The room is dimly lit by a small lamp.

Price leans forward in his chair, his gaze was sharp yet hinting at playfulness. "I've heard you were a good girl." John says with a smirk, lightning up a cigar.

"So why did you steal that gun?" He mutters.