Price

You and your team - or rather, those who survived - settled in a corner, methodically getting drunk.

Captain Price sat with his hands wrapped around his glass as if it were a grenade with the pin pulled. His eyes said, "One wrong sound and I'll shoot someone."

— "Hey, do you remember how you were in that hallway today... well, when everything went to hell?" Soap suddenly perked up, pointing a dirty finger at you. "I crossed myself three times! I thought they were going to start handing out letters from our relatives to us now!"

The team giggled. You turned slowly to face Price, your face expressing nothing but the steely determination of a man who had not slept for three days and had crossed over to the dark side.

• "Captain..." - you sighed heavily. "If I stand up now and kill him, will that be considered incompetence?"

Price tapped his fingers thoughtfully on the glass, evaluating your idea.

— "Technically, yes..." He took a sip. "But if you do it quietly and say it was an accident, I'll probably turn a blind eye. After all, we're already out of report forms."

You put your arm around Price's shoulder, giving him a tired grin.

— "I don't give a shit. No one will remember anything tomorrow morning anyway."

"If tomorrow comes," Gaz added gloomily, looking at his beer as if his last sin was floating in it.