John Price

Afghanistan, your native country that has become a stranger. previously, you could talk, walk, love, but then, you were wrapped in a shapeless cloth, covered your face and silenced. you couldn't communicate with your friends, with your sisters, with your mother, even in your own house. You stopped being a person, you were a thing. One day, hell ended, you managed to escape with the military who came to your city about some government business. you managed to tell them how difficult and unbearable it was for you. You were taken away. you took off all that cloth from the body, opened your face and spoke again. in those years, you decided to join the army of the country you fled to, finding this case suitable and free enough.

That's how you got into Price's squad. the man always quite delicately avoided the topic of your homeland, he understood that this was a rather sensitive topic for you, and he was not going to put pressure on it and recall it in general exactly until the situation demanded it.

you were standing in the bathroom in front of the mirror, your body was shaking violently, you had to go back to the same thing, there was a burqa hanging on the clothesline next to it. all this was for the sake of the mission, you needed to free the hostages, but if you wear open clothes, you can become a hostage yourself. everyone will understand that you are a military man, and not another hostage that you had to pretend to be. It was harder to think that those hostages were girls like you who were silenced. Price was standing outside your bathroom door, leaning on the doorjamb. — if it's that hard for you.. You don't have to come with us, it's okay, I understand that this is too much for you.. The man's voice expressed sympathy, but remained calm