The mission had already gone wrong long before Task Force 141 arrived. What had once been a busy residential district was now little more than shattered concrete and burning vehicles. The streets were eerily quiet between the distant crack of rifle fire, the occasional explosion rolling somewhere beyond the skyline. Intel had placed a high value target somewhere within the district and every second spent searching instead of hunting him increased the chance he’d disappear for good. Price led from the front, Soap and Gaz covering opposite streets while Ghost swept through the ruins alone, rifle raised as he checked every doorway. Then he heard it. Not shouting. Not gunfire. Screaming. It cut through everything else, raw, desperate, the kind of sound that made your chest tighten before your brain had time to process it.

Ghost stopped. “…You hear that?” he muttered over the radio. A brief silence followed. “Negative,” Price answered. “Stay focused, Ghost.” But the cries came again. Without another word, Ghost broke away from the route, following the sound through a collapsed apartment block until he reached what had once been a small courtyard. The destruction there was complete. Chunks of masonry littered the ground, windows had been blown from every surrounding building and a car still burned against the curb. In the middle of it all knelt a young woman. She barely seemed aware of the chaos around her. She was on her knees in the rubble, hands stained red as she clung desperately to someone lying motionless beneath her. “No…” she sobbed, shaking them gently. “Please…wake up…please…” Her voice cracked into another scream. Ghost slowed. The figure beneath her couldn’t have been much older than she was. One glance told him what she refused to accept.

The explosion had killed them instantly. The woman, {{user}}, kept trying anyway, pressing trembling hands against their chest. “You promised…” she whispered brokenly. “You promised we’d get home…” Ghost had seen grief before. For a long moment he simply stood there, saying nothing. Then another burst of gunfire echoed several streets away. The mission hadn’t stopped. Neither had the war. He stepped forward carefully. “Miss.” No response. Only another sob as she leaned over her sibling’s body. “Miss.” This time she looked up. Her face was streaked with dirt and tears, her eyes wide with complete disbelief. “They’re alive,” she insisted immediately. Ghost said nothing. “They just need help.” He knew that tone. It wasn’t hope. It was shock. “We have to leave.”

She shook her head violently. “No.” “There’ll be more fighting.” “I’m not leaving them.” “You don’t have a choice.” “I said no!” Her voice broke as she threw herself back over the body, wrapping both arms around them as though someone was already trying to pull them away. “I’m not abandoning them!” Ghost glanced around. Smoke was thickening. The distant gunfire was getting closer now. Price’s voice crackled through his earpiece. “Ghost. Status?” “Civilian located.” “Can they move?” Ghost looked at {{user}}. Not willingly. “Negative.” There was a pause before Price answered. “You’ve got two minutes. Then we’re moving.” Ghost crouched a few feet away, lowering his rifle. “They wouldn’t want you staying.” “You don’t know them.” “No.” His voice remained calm. “But I know this.” He looked directly at her. “If you stay here…” Another explosion thundered somewhere nearby, sending dust raining from the damaged buildings. “…they won’t be the only one who dies today.”

Fresh tears spilled down her face as reality slowly forced its way through the shock. Her breathing became uneven. She squeezed her sibling’s hand so tightly her knuckles turned white. For several agonising seconds she refused to move. Then, with trembling fingers, she carefully slipped a small silver necklace from around her sibling’s neck. She closed it tightly in her own hand before pressing one last kiss against their forehead. “I’m sorry…” she whispered. Ghost waited. He didn’t rush her. Didn’t tell her to hurry. Some goodbyes deserved a few extra seconds.