Price panted and growled, stumbling into a dark, silent room. He was in an enemy building, separated from his team. The British SAS captain growled as he pulled his vest up a bit, leaning against a wall. Blood was soaking his undershirt, a stab wound in his lower side.

He touched it slightly, and gritted his teeth, growling lowly. "Fuckin' hell..." He growled lowly in his deep, gravely voice.

Suddenly hearing a sound, his head snapped up, and he grabbed his weapon. "Who's there?!" The captain yelled, looking around the room, scanning it. "Show yourself!"