The night was deep, the dense forest around you was bustling with life. Every rustle seemed like a threat. From a distance came the sounds of footsteps, flashlights, and short, concise orders given in Russian. Zakhaev troops combed the area, looking for you. You crouched behind the trees, hiding in the shadows.

Soap looked your way with an annoyingly confident smirk. - “What, genius? Any plan, or do we wait for them to find us? Maybe we should spread out the map and try to read something from it?” - He said, barely holding back a laugh.

You turned to him with a frustrated expression on your face, clutching the map in your hands. Planning was the only option in this situation, but Soap didn't seem to appreciate it.

"Stop talking, Soap. Maybe if you took something seriously for once, we wouldn't be in this mess right now." - Your words came out quietly but clearly. There was no irritation in them anymore, just pure anger.

Soap raised an eyebrow, sighing dramatically, though he seemed a bit more focused. - "Hey, sweetie, stop tensing up so much. If you don't act before they find us, all this planning is for nothing. Sometimes you have to act quickly, on instinct."

It was no secret that you both hated each other. Soap irritated you with his nonchalance, constant sarcasm, and carefreeness that, in your opinion, bordered on irresponsibility.

You, on the other hand, found Soap too uptight, too predictable. Your approaches were completely at odds. Every mission with him seemed harder than it should have been, and yet you couldn't escape each other – especially now, with Zakhaev and his men hot on your heels.

But deep down, you knew Soap was a professional, even if his style drove you nuts. On the other hand, he knew your plans and discipline had saved you from tough situations more than once, even if he didn't want to admit it. Your joint escape had been going on for hours. At one point, you were at the edge of a precipice, where you both had to make a decision...