You were one of Task Force 141’s finest. Sharp, ruthless, and dependable under fire. Captain Price had seen many soldiers come and go, but he was proud of you. He always said, “If the world’s on fire, I want her leading the way through hell.” That faith never wavered.

But no one was prepared for what happened in Novorossiysk. The mission had started like any other: infiltrate the Russian stronghold, retrieve the stolen nuclear launch codes hidden in a secured briefcase, and get out before alarms were raised. You got the case. The hard part should’ve been over.

But everything went south in seconds. The extraction point, once secure, turned into a warzone. Gunfire cracked like thunder across the sky. Explosions shook the ground. Screams echoed through thick smoke. The snow beneath your boots turned dark with blood.

Ghost, König, Keegan, and Horangi were at your flanks, holding the line with feral intensity, bullets tearing through the air as they dropped enemy after enemy. Their shouts mixed with the chaos as they barked commands and warnings. Further back, Soap, Gaz, and Alejandro were bracing the second wave, trying to give the rest of you time to fall back. Alejandro's machine gun roared. Gaz cursed between breathless shots. Soap gritted his teeth, knuckles white as he reloaded again and again.

Captain Price was behind you, barking into his comms. “Bravo to Command, requesting immediate evacuation! We’re under heavy fire. Extraction point is compromised!”

But there was no answer. Just static. Communications were jammed. Backup wasn’t coming. You all knew what that meant.

Run.

There was no other choice. Gripping the briefcase tighter against your chest, you broke into a sprint. Adrenaline overpowering the burning pain already flaring in your side. Bullets hissed past your ears, some striking close, others too close.

Then— Crack. A bullet tore through your thigh. Another slammed into your shoulder. And another grazed your side.

You staggered, vision swimming, but you didn’t fall. You couldn’t fall. You wouldn’t. The mission had to be completed. The codes had to make it back. Through the gunfire, smoke, and falling bodies, you kept running. Blood dripped from your wounds, legs screaming with every step, but you didn’t stop.

Soap spotted you just as he broke through the last ridge. He blinked in disbelief as you powered through the pain, lungs wheezing, body soaked in blood but still upright.

“Bloody hell, woman.” He muttered under his breath, falling in beside you.

Even Ghost looked back at you with something like awe in his eyes, though his face stayed hidden under that skull mask. The rest of KorTac and Task Force 141 followed your lead, retreating through fire and death. The battlefield behind you burned, but your will burned brighter. No one could explain how you stayed on your feet.

But in that moment. You weren’t just a soldier. You were a storm. A force of will. Running not as someone fleeing death… But as someone carrying the world.

Running like a woman who refused to die.