Knock, knock, knock!

Jessica opened the back door to see Price standing there. He motioned her outside and she sat on the grass. "Yes, sir?"

He dropped a limp rabbit to the ground and she snatched it up, tearing away fur and flesh until, in a matter of moments, it was gone. 

"Damn," he mused. "I would think you haven't eaten in a week given that reaction."

"When you live off of wild game like I do, anything else just doesn't satiate." Her ears pinned back when she noticed a grey, distant look on Price's face. She passed her tongue over her maw. "Everything alright, Captain?"

Price stroked his beard. "You're off restriction today."

Jessica shifted and stood up, wiping her lips to dry the saliva from them. "What? I still have two days left; what changed your mind?"

"We found the Ultranationalist leader and where he's camped out. Looks like its a compund, and there's a whole host of Ultranationalist staff there. If we hit it, we may just disband the last of their group, and this will all be over."

She softly bit the inside of her lower lip, playing with the flesh between her canine teeth. "So, are you saying I'm going with you guys on a mission?"

The Captain nodded without making eye contact, his blue eyes trained on the street behind the fence.

"Why? I don't know you as the kind of man to spare me just because I might miss out..."

"Don't flatter yourself, it's not about you," he said, his gaze finally meeting hers. "I just don't want to go without you there."

"You've got Soap, Ghost and Roach; you'd be safe without me."

Price grasped her arm stiffly and leveled his face to hers. "No, you don't understand: I need you there." He took a quiet, slow breath and then continued. "Besides, MacMillain said we could use all the man power we could get, and all I'm missing is you. Please, don't refuse while I'm offering you a chance to get off early."

It was then that she noticed John's hand shaking ever so slightly. But somehow his face still looked sturdy... Almost too sturdy. Jess put her hand over his hand and squeezed it. "I'll accept, sir. I would rather fight by your side than stay in my safe little house here." Her mouth slowly curved into a spirited, devilish grin.

He responded to her expression with a plastic grin of his own and released her arm. "Come along, then. Get yourself ready; we're heading out of here by 03:00."

She dipped her head and watched him leave, her grin melting away to a look of concern. Something was wrong with him. He was never this nervous before a mission.

Price stood leaning against the door to Hangar 1, smoking a cigar. He was puffing out thick clouds of grey into the cold, autumn-night air. His pulse bobbed in his throat, his eyes were focused intensely on the ground before him.

Blood.

Searing pain.

He never told her...

He blinked and then flinched when he saw Soap standing in front of him.

"Y'all right, sir?" he asked.

Price nodded. "Yeah. I'm fine. Why?"

Soap slid his eyes to Price's lightly trembling hand. "Tea too strong for ya?"

The Captain narrowed his eyes with a jeering smile. "Yeah, mate," he teased.

Jessica bounded outside. "Come on, everything's ready. We should get going."

Price nodded. "Yeah. Come along then. We don't have a moment to lose." He looked at Soap as they approached the aircraft. "You ready to work with more Yanks?"

Jessica pouted at him. "You say that like that's a bad thing..."

"You kind of almost killed me almost a week ago," said Ghost, jabbing her ribs with an elbow. "I'm not sure how well I trust Yanks anymore."

Soap laughed. "I think we'll manage just fine, sir."

Karkonosze Mountains, Ukraine, 0700. The air was cold and dry under the covering of the dense spruce trees. The smell of sap and dry grass wafted around the team as they wove through the forest, converging on a tiny facility nestled in the trees and the hills.

Despite the cold of the October Ukrainian climate, Soap was dripping sweat, his keen blue eyes focused through the sight on his rifle. His breathing was a little laboured.

Jessica looked over at him. "Air's a little thin up here; you doing okay?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm good." He tapped the com. "Price, we're in position. Waitin' on you and the Yanks."

"141 is moved to standby positions." Price replied.

An American by the code name Sandman replied. "We count four targets patrolling the roof of the east and west barracks. Targets are locked in. Delta ready to engage, over."

Jess rolled her shoulder around and adjusted her grip on her rifle. She looked up at the soldiers patrolling the rooftops. The moment the said the word, she was ready to take them out.

"Copy, Delta, you are free to engage."

Sandman called over the com. "Fire, fire, fire!"

Jessica pulled the trigger, taking down one guard, and was about to take out a second when sniper fire from somewhere to the north of her took him out. She snapped her gaze from her sight to the direction of the shot's origin and grimaced. "'Ey!" she barked over the com. "I called dibs!"

An American man's voice responded. "Sorry, ma'am, you gotta call dibs out loud," laughed Frost.

"Cheeky bugger..." she grumbled with a grin.

Sandman spoke with haste. "He's down. Hornet's nest has been stirred! Spectre 6-4, you are clear to engage the playground."

Jess took a step back into the foliage, ducking her head a little when she heard the soft hum of an AC-130 high above them. Just when she looked up, heavy fire came raining down on the enemy. Screams arose among the dead and flames.

"Ka-boom!" said the pilot. "141, we got you covered. Go have some fun."

She took a breath a paced forward with Soap dogtrotting beside her, gradually taking lead. By now, Jess was ignoring the radio chatter and following the Lieutenant, covering his six. Jessica shuttered with every assist of the AC-130, but it barely took any time to get into the main entrance of the facility. As they stacked at the door, she looked around, noticing that they weren't being pursued from behind, and most everything was quiet aside from the occasional shot or chatter.

But the quiet was broken up inside the building as Price tossed in a frag. Before the enemy could return such a gracious gift, it exploded and there were sharp cries of pain inside. They advanced into a narrow hallway, each of them finding men to engage in each room that lined the walls.

Jessica walked past a seemingly empty room when a hand reached out and grasped her by the lapel of her coat, the other hand holding a Makarov pistol. Despite being a piss poor weapon, she was screwed at close range. She gasped and shifted, sinking her teeth into the elbow of the man holding her. He wailed and pulled the trigger, piercing the wall behind her as she wrestled him down and bit into his throat until she heard a muted snap and his eyes rolled.

"What the hell, Gal?" growled Soap, clearly on edge.

She bared her red-tinted teeth. "Hey! You were walking in front of me! You should have seen the bastard before I did!"

Price barked. "Get your arses up here! Stack up!" He slammed a breaching charge on the wall and backed away, waiting for the rest of the team to gather.

Jessica crouched across from Soap, Walcroft and Price, Ghost and Roach behind her with their weapons ready. She gripped her rifle tighter as the wall blew away and Price tossed in a nine-banger. Then three men inside staggered around blindly before being torn to shreds by a hail of bullets.

The Captain walked in first, scanning each soldier carefully for signs of life. Jess started when he fired again at the head of one of the soldiers, just to be sure he was dead. She swallowed and looked at the other two soldiers, turning her gaze straight in front of her when Soap rolled a young man's head, no older than 19, to the side with his boot. He made an uneasy expression, but made no sound.

"141 has arrived on target; there's no sign of Kingfish." said Price, a low growl in his voice.

Jess looked at Soap. "Don't you think it's a little odd how easy this was...?" she asked him.

He shrugged. "I guess so, but it could also be that he and most of his staff got out of here before we arrived. It's just a failed mission in my book..." he said. Soap looked to his left as he paced the room, suddenly stopping in his tracks.

"What?" she said.

He didn't respond. "... Price." he said tensely. "You need to see this..."

Jessica looked on a cork board to see pinned up news paper articles and photos. In the very center was a photo full of people, some with their faces covered in red X's.

She shifted and jumped back, snarling and ears pinned to her skull.

Their faces...

Those were their faces!

Price's mouth hung open.

"They're targetin' Bravo Team..." said Soap with a tone of dread.

Galaxy was shaking as she continued to look at the photo. She was so wrapped in terror that she didn't even notice the high pitched chirping of the bomb planted under the table.

Price looked down, and then did a double take. "Bomb! GET DOWN!" He shoved the Lieutenant and the Sergeant out of the way just in time for them all to be caught in the blast.

Ghost reached in and yanked Jessica out first, Roach helping Soap up while Price refused and picked himself up off the ground. "Damn," she spat ravenously.

"It was a bloody trap!" yowled Soap.

She bared her teeth at him. "I told you! I God-damned knew it!"

"Enough!" Price bellowed.

"Bravo Six!" cried Sandman. "There's a whole mess of tangos headed your way! You need to get out of there, now!"

Price grasped Galaxy's scruff when she turned back to face an onslaught of Ultranationalist soldiers entering through a hole in the wall somewhere else in the facility. "Come on! Move!" he commanded.

They wove their way back through the halls until they were fleeing up the hill from which they had come, only to find themselves cut off. "Shit!" Roach cried. "Where to, now?!"

"Command, we've been cut off from our entry route," said Soap. "Changing to LZ Bravo."

Price guided them into a plowed field behind the facility through a row of Trembling Aspen Trees, pleading for closed air support over the com as they ran. Bullets and missiles rained down around them, sending hot currents of adrenaline pulsing into Gal's ears and toes.

Her azure eyes turned up when she heard an explosion over head. Jess shifted and stopped in her tracks, looking up as pieces of the AC-130 hailed to the earth in a plume of black smoke and red embers. "Oh my God..." she whimpered.

Roach gave her shoulder a push. "Come on! We have to keep going!" he said.

She nodded and ran ahead, starting to pass up Soap with Roach quickly on her heels.

KA-POW!

Galaxy shifted again, rolling in the dry dirt, scraping her shoulder on some sharp stones in the process. She stood up and shook out her ringing ears. Hell... Was that an RPG? She glanced at Roach, who seemed to be fine, and then...

"Oh, shit..."

Soap lay on the ground gasping weakly. His face was covered in a thick streak of blood, his eyes closed.

Roach wasted no time getting to his feet and grabbing the Lieutenant by the rucksack straps and dragging him toward the LZ. "You're alright, Lieutenant!" he chirped. "Just a little banged up; we'll get you into the bird and you're gonna be fine!"

Galaxy raced over and shifted to help Roach. The bird landed behind them and they hurried the wounded soldier on board. Price said something to Ghost, who swore out loud and then bolted for the helicopter.

As the last man got on board, Jessica looked over Soap's face, finding a long slash over his brow down to his cheek bone. He opened one of his blue eyes and looked around frantically with shuttering breaths. "You're okay." she said. "Don't worry, you'll be fine." She grabbed the trauma kit off the wall and began to open it hwen he stopped her.

"I'm fine," he said. "Don't waste that on me; save it for someone who really needs it!"

"You've got a cut on your face-"

"I can live through a cut; don't worry about me, worry about who else is outside!" he demanded.

She sighed heavily and looked back out the door when the craft shook, its wheels coming off the ground. Jessica's hazel eyes rounded. Price was still crouched outside, shooting at advancing tangos. "No... No, wait!" she cried, shifting once again.

A firm grasp landed on her scruff and yanked her back into the craft. She winced as her back thudded against the metal floor. Galaxy looked up to see Ghost was the one holding her down. She writhed, trying to get free of his grip. "Let me go! We can't leave him out there!"

"Captain's orders; we're leaving," said Ghost over the whirring of the helicopter's blades.

She bared her teeth at him. "I don't care who gave the goddamned orders,  I'm not leaving him behind!"

Before she could struggle free, Ghost threw her backward, and she landed hard against one of the seats. "You're not going anywhere!" he roared.

As the door closed, Soap let out a horrified wail. He reached out his hand for the Captain, and his last glimpse of Price was the final glance he made over his shoulder toward the bird as it started to lift itself off the ground.

Gal scrambled for the cockpit. "Open that door!"

"No can do," said the pilot. "We are taking heavy fire and we're at bingo fuel."

She looked back and forth between the pilot and co-pilot, and then ran for the nearest window. The Captain was felling enemy soldiers below them. For a moment, there was hope, but then there were three shots.

Price was down.

Gal shifted and fell away from the window and Roach caught her. Everyone around her was talking, telling her and Soap something, but what, she couldn't hear. Her ears felt clouded and she couldn't take her eyes off the window.

No.

It was a dream.

A bad dream.

It had to be.

Price couldn't...

... Die.