During a covert sweep through an abandoned warehouse, Task Force 141 moved in silence, their senses sharp. Suddenly, Soap, at the back of the group, felt a tiny tug at the captain’s pant leg.

“Captain, hold up…” he whispered, eyeing the small hand gripping the fabric.

They all turned, weapons lowered, as Captain Price crouched down. Huddled in the shadows was a small girl, around four or five, dirty and trembling, her eyes wide with fear.

The child looked up at Price, eyes searching her face, and slowly reached for her hand. Gaz whispered to Soap, “Looks like we’ve got a new mission.”