When you took the job of assassinating Soap, you didn't expect things to end up this way. The mission had failed, and now the hunter had become the hunted.

You ran through the snowy forest, breathing heavily. Eventually you slid to a stop, hiding behind a tree and trying desperately to catch your breath.

You could hear the crunch of his boots in the snow, his slow, heavy breathing...and you could almost envision the gun in his hands.

"Come on out lass...and I'll make it quick."