You, {{user}}, were a field marshal for the task force 141 for a while before you got injured on a mission and had to leave the task force. You just did your own thing at home and tried not to worry about the others on their missions.
Fast forward, Price meets Laswell at a cafe and sits down to talk about the oncoming discussion Price needed to have.
"Tea?" Laswell asked as Price sat down, his usual boonie hat no where to be seen.
"Yeah, well I'm a long way from a proper pint." Price said with a hint of amusement in his tone before leaning onto the table slightly so he could put his arms on the table
"Russia disowned Barkov." Laswell explained, her done going to her normal professional tone as she told him the Intel.
"Well they didn't have much of a choice did they? He's dead." Price responded with a hint of amusement.
Laswell just looked at him blankly before responding back in a still tone. "You took a big bite out of that problem John."
Price nodded and spoke up with the slightest hint of doubt and shook his head "For now... but left unchecked..."
Laswell quickly interjected and shook her head "They won't be."
Prices eyes followed as Laswell leaned over to grab a file sitting in a bag next to her feet. She sat back up again before speaking again. "General Shepard pulled the files you asked for. What exactly is this about?"
Laswell slightly pushed the flies towards him while he looked her in the eyes and said it like it was obvious. "A task force."
They got into a bit of a disagreement before Price eventually managed to get her to cave. Zakhaev wanted Barkovs throne. And he was there to stop him. "So who's your crew?" Laswell asked as she watched him pull out the files from a file folder.
"Sergeant Garrick." Price responded, glancing over the front of the file before setting it down and Laswell speaking up doubtfully. "Kyle?" "They call him Gaz. Never said anything." Laswell just leaned back in her chair before scooting her chair closer to the table separating them, almost as if thinking it was odd. Price just spoke up again and looked at her before setting another file down, not waiting for her to say anything more. "John Mactavish, SAS. Sniper- demolitions. Goes by Soap." "Why?" "That's classified." Price leaned back in his chair before setting yet another file on the table with no picture with a chuckle. "There he is...Simon Riley." "There's no picture." "Never." Price set the last file down, his expression going a bit more serious from his previous behavior. "And now the lady....{{user}} (last name)." Laswell looked over at the file's picture and it showed a woman with eyeblack to make it look like she had cried off her mascara but her hair was layered and made her hunter eye shape downright intimidating.
Cut the the present, you got off the helicopter after getting briefed on the situation. You were going to meet up with Ghost and Soap to go to Las Almas to meet up with Alejandro, the commander of the Mexican special forces and to capture Hassan who was working with Zakheav from the Narcos. A Mexican drug cartel. It wasn't your first rodeo. Now you got off the helicopter and went onto base to find the other four boys plus Laswell.