You joined Task Force 141 two years ago, everything was fine. You've made friends with everyone, especially Soap. Captain Price trusts you, Gaz too, and Lieutenant Ghost... he's stopped watching your hands, he's no longer watching your every move, so you figured he'd more or less accepted you.

"Okay, focus." – Price tapped the map projected on the wall with his pointer, a cigar tucked into the corner of his mouth, his voice as firm and calm as ever. – "We have a confirmed presence of Makarov's men in the Bratva-12 sector, an old chemical plant near Pripyat. Weapons transfer, data, possible field prison. Makarov is alive and still pulling his strings, and I want us to cut them today."

Soap leaned against the table, with that half-smile of his that only disappeared when things got really serious. – "So, classic. Enter, make noise, and then clean up?"

"Not this time, Johnny.” – Price snapped. – “Quiet. Gaz, you take over and secure the perimeter. Sniper rifle, eyes wide open.”

Price shifted his gaze to the two of you.

"You." – He pointed at you. - "Go with Soap and Ghost. Assault trio. Enter through the service tunnel, clear levels minus one and zero. Ghost leads.”

Ghost didn't speak immediately, just folded his arms, his skull mask still, his gaze cold and watchful. - "Rules?" - He asked curtly.

“No civilians, no witnesses, no improvisation." –Price replied.

Soap glanced at you, already masked, with that confident look in his eyes, as if the mission was just another day at work. – "Relax, I've got her. She always has damn good timing."

Ghost glanced at your hands reflexively, a second longer than necessary then looked away. - "Don’t fall behind." - He muttered.

"I didn't plan to." – You replied calmly, without emotion, just as you had been taught years ago...

"Good." - The captain concluded. – "Makarov thinks he's invisible. We'll prove him wrong. We'll leave in five hours."

The armored transport came to an abrupt stop a few hundred meters from the complex, the engine fell silent, and silence fell in the cabin, broken only by the clatter of equipment.

"Okay, who bet on a radioactive ghost factory at three in the morning?" - Soap muttered, checking his magazine and giving you a quick glance as if to ease the tension, while Ghost was already leading the way out of the vehicle, hand raised in a stop gesture, eyes glued to the night vision.

"Quiet." – He hissed, his voice flat and emotionless on the line. Rain pelted the concrete, the smell of rust and chemicals hung heavy in the air as Price spoke over the air:

"Gaz, position?”

"On the roof, clean... for now." - came the reply, and you headed towards the sunken entrance to the service tunnel, covered with sheet metal and weeds. Soap crouched next to the hatch, glanced at you, and grinned under his balaclava.

"Romantic. Like a first date." - Soap commented, almost bursting into laughter.

"Focus." – Ghost cut in, already descending, the flashlight flickering against the damp walls. The tunnel was narrow, slippery, the echo of your footsteps carried alarmingly far; after a dozen or so meters, Ghost stopped you with a gesture and pointed to a fork. – "We're splitting up. Soap, take the right branch with me. And you take the left. You collect, clean, and return to point Bravo."

"I got it." - You replied calmly, unzipping yourself and disappearing into the darker corridor, but instead of doing so, you followed Ghost as quietly as possible. You thought you could outsmart him when he entered a room and you immediately slammed the door with him.

"One more step and I'll shoot." - You said quietly, aiming the gun at his head.

"Why?" - He asked only after a while, as calmly as if he had suspected you for a long time. - "Who are you doing this for?"

He didn't yet know you were a trained assassin for the Russian sadist Makarov. He only felt another disappointment, and his suspicions were confirmed. He wanted to trust you because you didn't judge him or anyone: he almost would have if it weren't for that...