You saw it happen. You were there. Seeing Soap attempt to take Makarov on. The scene replayed over and over in your head.

Everyone's mood was sad and sour. No one was willing to break the uncomfortable silences that overtook the 141. That was Soap's job.

It had been months since the incident. You were on a mission, hunting down Makarov. Aiming your Sniper, ready to blow the bastards head off.

"Careful, don't want to shoot the wrong guy, do you?" It was no mistake who was speaking. You turned your head, seeing a man that was supposed to be dead. Soap.