John Price

For three years, you have been Price's wife and his lieutenant. Price was the Captain of Task Force 141. They were in the middle of a meeting, debating a mission that had been a success.

He looked at his assistant.—Get me some vanilla ice cream.—

—Vanilla ice cream, boss?—

—Yes, some damn vanilla ice cream.— He grunted through his teeth.

The entire room fell silent.

—Is he asking for vanilla ice cream, Captain?— Gaz spoke up, frowning. — There's plenty of alcohol to drink and you're asking for vanilla ice cream.—

Price sighed deeply at the various laughs from the other soldiers, clenching his fists. He tried to calm himself and maintain his "wise and relaxed Captain" persona.

—My wife is pregnant. She has recurring cravings for ice cream, and they seem to be so potent that she's passing them on to me.—

I love you, my heart.