Captain Price Modern Warfare 2 Novels & Stories

They already knew them that the General was talking about, so they just kept quiet and listened carefully. “The Microsoft Empire is my country’s archenemy, and the strongest direct rival. We cannot exist in the same location as them; this is how it has been for years.” The General paused a little after this, clearing his throat before continuing. “The Captain leading their team this time is not a regular soldier. If I am correct, he contacted and met with them on his own. His goal is the tournament prizes.” “A genius like him cannot be unknown. There’s a high chance that he has a huge background, this, I’m sure of.”

Captain O said clearly already loosing his cool this time as his expression twisted in a very unreal way. The question came out sharper and more forceful as the frustration was becoming visible now, thick vain became visible on his head as his eyes narrowed, his jaw tightened while his hands slowly clenched. “I am the great Captain O, the only one who kissed death goodbye, the grim reaper and the only solution to life's journey on earth.” The declaration echoed throughout the hall forcing several Bratva soldiers to immediately straighten their postures as pride filled their expressions because to them, Captain O was more than a commander, he was a legend, a symbo and a weapon that had protec

Declan's gaze swept across the room, instantly spotting me standing in front of Ian, swathed in his trench coat. He immediately holstered his gun, squared his shoulders, and gave a sharp, firm nod. His voice boomed through the room with absolute authority. "Captain! Vice Team Two is in position. Give the word." That single title—Captain Huff—cut Leroy's lingering chuckles dead in his throat, making him sound like a chicken getting its neck wrung.

Frowning, I slowly glanced over my shoulder and the world stopped as familiar bright blue eyes met mine. Hunter Fucking Beaumont? He stretched a hand towards me, lips pressed into a thin line. “Hello, Captain.”

“Mr. Cash, this is the eighth division captain of Admiralporium’s Squad 13 in Northspring, Campian Wolke.” Shaun, who was flabbergasted, quickly greeted the man. “Nice to meet you, Captain Wolke!” Campian greeted him back amiably. “Nice meeting you too, Mr. Cash. No need to be so courteous.” “Nice to meet you, Captain Wolke. I’m Bryce Jupp.” Bryce smiled politely, sounding incredibly courteous. He could not help it. Campian’s position as a captain was no weaker than a city’s leader simply in terms of his authority.

One in particular caught my eye. Dante Kade. Captain. Number 17. Ice-blue eyes. A name that came with a hundred headlines and at least five fangirl forums I pretended not to browse. He looked lethal. The kind of lethal that made smart girls run and stupid girls fall. I wasn’t here to do either. I tore my eyes away from the poster and squared my shoulders. The heel of my boot clicked against the tile with more attitude than I felt. I could fake it. I’d faked worse.

“I’m not exactly a sports person.” “You will be after tonight. The energy is addictive. Hawthorne versus Westfield is always brutal—especially because of the captains. Brad Walker versus Sebastian Hale. Pure rivalry.” I raised an eyebrow. “Sebastian Hale?” “Captain of Westfield. Tall, insanely talented, and actually a decent guy from what I’ve heard not the cocky asshole type like Brad and his crew. The stands go wild whenever he’s on the ice. Total heartthrob material.” She winked. “You’ll see why.”

Puffing his chest out and giving a short nod in acknowledgement, the captain barked the new commands needed and the soldiers quickly shuffled into new ranks, the longer weapons to the front, with the bladed soldiers in ranks behind them, the injured at the rear. ‘Damn they are useless by themselves, but good when told what to do,’ Rex said to himself, reaching out through his Amonthrul bond, ‘Can someone tell Markus we are closing in from behind them, I have about 100 or so new soldiers and would prefer to not be cut down by friendly fire,’ his words returning feelings of confusion back from them making him grin, “Do me proud commander, begin the assault.” Nodding quickly once more the capta

I couldn't get the image of me screaming under him, cumming like an idiot and even begging him to fuck me harder out of my mind. I scrubbed my neck until the skin was raw, desperate to wash away the scent of him, that mix of expensive cologne and the lust in his eyes. I leaned my forehead against the tile, letting the water pelt my back. I was Elias Carter, the captain of the Northwood Titans. My life was built on discipline, morning drills, and a reputation for being untouchable. Yesterday, I was all those things before I lost to Ryder. "Get it together," I hissed at my reflection in the fogged-up mirror. My lower lip was slightly swollen, a visible mark of my shame. I looked at the "C" on

Without warning, the heavy metal loading doors at the rear of the warehouse were blown off their hinges in a cloud of sparks and smoke! “POLICE! DROP YOUR WEAPON! DROP IT NOW!” Dozens of armed tactical officers in heavy armor poured into the warehouse, red laser sights cutting through the dark like light sabers! Taken by surprise, the gunman’s focus split for a fraction of a second. Damon took immediate advantage of the distraction. He threw his elbow backward into the man's ribs, breaking the chokehold, and spun around, tackling the gunman to the floor! The handgun went skittering across the concrete floor toward my feet.