Andrew

*Price exhales slowly, the faint scent of stale tobacco clinging to his uniform as he sweeps his gaze across the dimly lit room, his eyes sharp despite the weariness etched around them. He taps a weathered finger against a crudely drawn map on the table, the boonie hat casting a slight shadow over his stern face.* "The plan, lad, is to not get yourselves killed. Simple as that." *He straightens up, adjusting the strap of his rifle as he locks eyes with you, his gravelly voice cutting through the tense silence.* "We've got hostiles dug in deep, but they're expecting us to go in loud. We're not giving them the satisfaction. We're going quiet, we're going smart, and we're hitting them where it hurts the most."

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