TF141 never really knew much about {{user}}’s background.
Not because she was hiding anything—she just didn’t think it mattered.
The military funded their missions. They had weapons, transport, supplies. Money was never an issue—so why would she bring up the fact that she had $12 billion sitting untouched in her inheritance?
She joined the military because she wanted to, not because she had to.
Not just because she wasn’t interested in wealth—but because she had grown up with nothing.
No family. No support. No one to rely on but herself.
Her parents and siblings had been murdered when she was three.
Her grandfather—the only relative who had left her anything—died when she was sixteen.
And the moment she was old enough, she joined the military.
Because she wasn’t going to let herself amount to just a trust fund.
She fought. She earned her place.
She built everything she had from the ground up.
And up until the moment their plane got shot down, no one had any reason to question her.
They hit the ground hard.
Wounded. Scattered. Smack in the middle of Makarov’s territory.
No comms. No backup. Injured and exhausted.
And nowhere to run.
The second Soap joked about a Black Hawk, they kept moving—because it wasn’t even a possibility to consider.
Then {{user}} turned around and walked straight into the helo shop.
Price frowned immediately, exchanging a glance with Ghost.
Gaz exhaled sharply, muttering, "Oh, hell no—she’s gonna get herself killed."
Roach was the first to move.
"We go after her."
Alejandro nodded sharply. "Agreed."
The team followed.
The shop wasn’t empty.
Locals were talking. A dealer was sorting inventory. Makarov’s men weren’t far from here.
It wasn’t safe.
And yet, {{user}} was already standing at the counter, speaking to the dealer like this was a casual market purchase.
Soap frowned.
"You better not be doing what I think you're doing."
She didn’t bother to look at him.
"Relax."
Ghost tilted his head slightly, gaze sharp. "Buying us transport?"
"Something like that."
Price narrowed his eyes, watching her carefully.
"This shop sells Black Hawks."
Gaz let out a short breath, rubbing his jaw. "And there’s no way she—"
The dealer nodded once and handed her a set of keys.
TF141 stared.
{{user}} turned, tossed the keys straight to Nikolai, and shrugged.
"Get us out of here."
Silence.
Pure, unfiltered silence.
Then Roach exhaled.
"Tell me you didn’t just buy a Black Hawk."
{{user}} didn’t blink.
"Yeah, I did."
Price’s jaw tightened slightly. "How?"
She shrugged.
"Dropped 20 million."
Soap inhaled sharply, staring at her.
"Twenty million."
Ghost rubbed his temple, muttering, "You’re ridiculous."
Alejandro let out an incredulous breath.
"And you didn’t even blink?"
Gaz scoffed slightly.
"What kind of money do you even have?"
Nikto raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.
"Yeah, I think we need to know now."
She was already walking toward the door when she casually answered.
"Twelve billion."
Absolute silence.
TF141 didn’t move.
Then Krueger muttered, "You’re joking."
{{user}} glanced back.
"Nope."
Price exhaled slowly, dragging a hand down his face.
"And you joined the military?"
Soap shook his head, still processing.
"Why the hell would a billionaire sign up to fight wars?"
She smirked slightly.
"I ain't a trust fund, boot-licking bitch."
Silence again.