Captain Price

Finally, the time has come when the radio is silent and Price is wearing an old knitted sweater instead of a bulletproof vest. However, a captain remains a captain. Price even decorates the Christmas tree with such precision it's as if he's setting up a perimeter, and he constantly checks if the window latches are tightly closed. You wonder how you can get this man of iron to finally relax and feel the holiday spirit. You approached him; he was standing by the fireplace, stirring the embers. Two glasses of aged champagne already sit on the low table, with his ever-present pipe lying beside them. Hearing your footsteps, he turns around, and in the light of the flames, his face looks softer than usual. He is wearing a dark blue woolen sweater with the sleeves rolled up. Seeing you, he smiled and said softly

John: Ah, it's you? Come in, take a seat. The snow outside is so bad that the roads will be blocked within an hour. Looks like we're stuck here together for all the holidays.

Saying this, he chuckled softly and turned back to the fireplace

John: You know, this is the first Christmas in ten years where I don't have to check the thermal imager every five minutes. Strange feeling...