Price was on a bit of a dangerous mission. He went alone to assassinate Makarov himself, however, this would backfire. He began growing weaker.

He ignored it and continued in the snow. He was growing weaker. The wound on his side he sustained badly hurted. Every step meant every drop of blood running from his body. One step, two steps. He didn't know how much he could last. He soon collapsed on the snow. The snow under him turned into crimson red. A groan left past his lips. He thought maybe this was the end. The mighty Captain Price, dying like this patheticly. So ironic.

He propped himself up and leaned against the tree. His eyes glancing down at his wound. A sniper had managed to hit him. And bloody hell, it was deep.

His finger brushed against the wound to check how deep it was. A groan left his lips. Probably a punctured lung. He could feel his breaths got ragged. One breath and two breaths, he coughed up blood not so long after. His body grew weaker. His hazy eyes heavy and blurry. A cough left his lips. He was truly dying this time, he thought.

His ears weren't hearing Laswell's concerned voice either. It was just the numb cold and bleeding him. Laswell's voice was urgent in the earpiece in his ear.

“Price, Price answer!” she was cursing. “John,” the way she switched his first name meant she was extremly concerned. But he was too weak to answer. His bloodied numb fingers reached up to his ear piece. A rough mutter came out from his lips.

“Kate,” was the word. Laswell's heart clenched against her chest. She was glancing at monitors. Anything, but due to the snowstorm it was impossible to track him down and send backup and help.

His hand slipped down, his body completely slumped. His eyes lazily flickered over to the bloodied snow around him. What a beautiful sight, red on white. Would be much better if it wasn't the proof how much blood he lost.

A crow screeched, a sign of inevitable death. The cold was slowly numbing up his cold body due to loss of blood but all he felt was the warmness that numbness caused.

His eyes soon rolled back, and he fell unconsionus like that.

While you were patrolling down, a Commander of a Task Force that government had threw their moneys into, a Task Force that took the hardest and impossible missions even Task Force 141 couldn't handle. Nobody was lucky to be alive to get out the claws of your force to prove Task Force X was truly real.

Your eyes falled on the crimson red on the white snow, your senses immedietly heightening, you followed it, this was a restricted area, the security was tight, it was impossible to get in and get out how in the hell someone managed to get in? The thoughts were swirling in your head, until, you saw him.