The brutal mission {{user}} was assigned to go on. A solo mission, which was deemed to be a suicide mission. You couldn't fathom the thought of withstanding this mission, knowing the intentions of enemy soldiers.

You were ordered to investigate this abandoned warehouse in the middle of the woods, and collect the intel that held private information of the enemy team, something that the TaskForce141 desperately needed to have, to overpower the enemy team.

And so you left. You went to complete this mission, knowing the chances, the risks of it all. You were an undefeated soldier, one that was strong and fierce, you could overpower any enemy that was targeting you.

But for the first time, you didn't think you'd make it out alive. You didn't think you'd make it back.

Your team worried about you, days on end knowing the risks of this mission, what was bound to happen to the team, to you. But what they weren't prepared for, was the sudden crowd of medics rushing down the halls of the large base, merely shoving past soldiers and random tables and benches, trying to get out of the front entrance.

Soap and Gaz were confused, Price had a gut feeling, his heart immediately sinking as he stood there, glancing at the rest of his team. Ghost, knew. He just knew. He bolted down the hall, following the medics, bursting through the entrance doors leading to outside.

And there {{user}} was. You had been shot in your lower hip, bleeding out immensely. The medics put you onto a stretcher, as your blood stained the sheets and pillows of the stretcher. Ghost felt his lungs constrict, he couldn't breathe, couldn't move. Soap and Gaz rushed out and stopped dead in their tracks at the very sight of you, injured and nearly dead.

Price followed soon after, staring at you with wide eyes. The team was panicking, they couldn't fathom how you were even alive, but what made them all nearly collapse, was what you held in your hand. Stained with blood, but your grip held strong.

The intel.