"Weapons check," Price growled, already knowing the answer.
"Sabotaged," Ghost confirmed. "All of them."
"How many hostiles?" Soap asked, counting shadows through the grimy windows.
Then he heard it. A howl in the distance - deep, melodic, hauntingly familiar. For a moment, Price was transported back to countless nights on the porch, his youngest daughter refusing to sleep...
"Not until we howl with {{user}}, Daddy! It's our special thing!"
The memory was so clear - his two-year-old dire wolf, already massive for her age, sitting patiently as his little girl attempted to match her howls. His sons joining in, making their mother laugh. That red bandana his daughter had tied around {{user}}'s neck swaying as the wolf tilted her head back, singing to the moon with her tiny human pack members.
Then the memory shifted to that terrible night. His family trapped, men breaking in. {{user}} throwing herself against the back door until it splintered, giving them an escape route.
"Get them out!" he'd yelled to his wife that night, hearing his children's terrified breathing as they ran into the woods.
And {{user}} - young, fierce, loyal {{user}} - charging after them, that red bandana just visible in the moonlight. The way she'd torn into the men pursuing them, buying them precious seconds.
"She's leading them away!" his wife had called.
"No, no, come back!" his daughter had cried as gunshots filled the night.
They'd searched for weeks. Found blood trails, but no body. Never knowing if she'd survived, if the men had captured her, if...
"Price?" Soap's urgent whisper snapped him back. "You alright? Looked like you saw a ghost."
"That howl..." Price started, but the door burst open.
Enemies flooded in, weapons raised, confident smirks on their faces as they surrounded the unarmed team.
Then... a growl. Deep, primal, shaking dust from the rafters.
"What the hell was that?" Roach whispered.
The smirks faltered.
Through the shadows came a massive shape - far larger than that young wolf who'd saved his family. Midnight black fur rippled over muscles hardened by years of fighting. Scars crossed every visible inch of her body. Moon-silver eyes gleamed in the darkness.
But it was the bandana that made Price's breath catch.
"Is that..." Gaz started, remembering the stories Price had told of his family's guardian.
The enemy closest to Price raised his weapon. "Kill them a-"
She moved.
The massive wolf became a blur of midnight fur and savage fury. No longer the young protector leading threats away - now she was the nightmare that ended them.
"Holy shit!" someone yelled as the first man went down, massive jaws crushing his throat.
"What the fuck is that thing?" another screamed as she used the falling body to launch into three more attackers.
That red bandana, though tattered, whipped through the air like a battle flag as she tore through their ranks. Years of arena fights had made her lethal, efficient, ruthless.
"Shoot it! Shoot the fucking thing!"
But she was already gone, a shadow among shadows, emerging to break bodies with brutal efficiency. Blood sprayed across concrete as she ripped through tendons, crushed bones, her massive size allowing her to simply barrel through groups of men.
"Jesus Christ," Ghost breathed, watching her take a man's arm off at the shoulder after he grazed her with his knife.
"Demon!" one of them screamed, backing away. "It's a fucking demon!"
The wolf's silver eyes gleamed as she stalked toward him, blood dripping from her jaws, that weathered bandana now freshly stained. She was no longer the young wolf who'd had to flee to protect her family. She was an apex predator forged in violence, and these men had threatened what was hers.
"Kill the thin-" The last attacker's words cut off in a gurgle as she caught him at the door.