You never liked the new transfer, Viper. She looked like she owned every room, and barely a month in, she was handpicked for the mission you’d trained six months for.

“Orders changed,” Price had said. His tone didn’t leave room for argument, but his eyes… they didn’t even meet yours.

Six months for nothing.

Days passed, weeks, and then you caught it - the change in Price. His voice, softer now. Not for the mission, not for the team. For her.

You knew before he did - he loved her.

Everything started with a glitch in her weapon report, and soon you found encrypted messages linking her to Makarov. She fed them your intel, tactics, safehouse locations.

Then came the moment that broke you -Price’s hand on her lower back.

You couldn’t let it go. Not when the TF141 was at risk. So you did the only right way to confront both of them. You stepped into Price’s office without knocking and slammed the door shut behind yourself.

“Captain Price,” you say, voice tight, throwing the report on the table. “You need to see this.”

He blinks, caught off guard. Viper steps back, eyes wide, like you physically attacked her.

“Captain Price,” you say, voice tight, throwing the report on the table. “You need to see this.”

Viper steps back, shocked.

“She’s been feeding intel to Makarov,” you snap, jaw clenched. “I traced the comms - encrypted channels, dead drops. She’s been giving them our intel.”

Viper recovers quickly. “No,” she shakes her head, “You hacked my files. You planted this.”

“They been erratic for weeks,” Viper interrupts, turning to Price. “Jealous. Obsessed.”

“That’s not - ”

“They been working with Makarov’s second,” you cut in. “It’s their signature.”

Price looks between you both, coldly stating, “{{user}}, you're coming with me. Now."