Call of Duty Imagines: Captain Price

The Rebel Leader Part I

.:American Revolution-style AU. Enjoy!:.

His blue eyes watched you through the iron bars of your cell as you lay in the dusty straw piled in the corner to catch the drip from the cracked ceiling. The corner of his mouth snarled up in disgust. His troops had suffered incredible sabotage, faced vicious ambushes along the roads, and watched their resources dwindle to near-nothingness as their supplies were intercepted... All because of you.

The rebel leader.

The news from his Lieutenant that they had finally caught the one responsible for all of his men's suffering was beyond exhilarating. He didn't dare pass up the opportunity to finally meet you in person.

It seemed bizarre to him that his rival was a female. After all, every woman he had met thus far was a quiet housewife or simple civilian; he'd never met a woman who willingly had taken on a combat role. Even more strange, you hardly seemed threatening. You were small, plain in comparison to the larger, more barbaric men who served in your militia.

You stirred and he caught his breath. Finally, he could have a word with this vermin of his troops. You sat up and turned weary eyes to him. A tense grin pulled at his mouth. "So you're the Sourge of the British Empire? The Phantom of Corpse Hill?"

"I'm hardly either of those things," you mused quietly. "But that you think I'm that much of a threat truly is flattering." You dusted a few stands of straw from your mussed coat and leaned back against the cold, rough brick wall behind you.

The Captain leaned close to the bars so that his nose protruded through them. "You've brought a great deal of harm to my men, you fleet-footed fox. And like a fox, you've fallen into my snare."

"Like a fox, are you going to kill me too?"

He narrowed his eyes. "I am. I just haven't yet decided how."

You rubbed a sore temple with your delicate fingers, groaning softly under your breath so that he might not hear that you were in pain. "Well, can you make up your mind soon? I haven't had a decent night's rest since your Lieutenant threw me in here, and I hear the dead finally get some peace and rest."

He hadn't expected you to be so calm about the prospect of death. Hanging was popular, as was death by firing squad, neither of which seemed a peaceful way to go, and you were nonchalantly resting in the corner of your cell as if it were just another Tuesday. It made his blood boil that you were barely reacting. "Maybe I'll keep you alive, then. Let you rot in here in sleepless agony."

"Oh no, please, anything but that..."

He was about to spit a venomous retort when heavy footsteps approached. "Captain Price?" A man dressed in a red uniform that had been muddied and bloodied from battle, his face obscured by a masquerade mask painted hauntingly like a skull, darkened the hallway with his broad frame. His hat sat low on his head, casting a pitch-black shadow across his already dark eyes and he had to stoop to look the Captain in the eyes. "We've captured the North End, no more sign of the rebels. They must have moved on when we captured their leader."

Price nodded stiffly. "Well, keep looking. I won't be satisfied until they're all locked up or dead."

"Yes, sir."

"Use leverage. Find their families, hang the corpses of their wives and children from the trees if you have to. Whatever brings them out of hiding, I want them taken care of, Simon."

You didn't let it show, but your stomach turned violently at the thought of innocent civilians being tortured and killed just to get to your army. A deep, steadying breath swelled in your lungs and you breathed it out in the quietest of sighs. "It won't work, you know."