10 years has it been since they finally got rid of Makarov. 10 years that they thought would've been peaceful, finally, after chasing after that russian for so long. 10 years since their, to that date, biggest threat had been eliminated.
But just a year after his death a new threat had emerged. One far greater than they had ever anticipated. One whos name left a sour taste in their mouth, just like the one before. That name was Hassan.
Hassan had risen from the ashes that Makarovs downfall had left behind like a wrathful phoenix. Before his death Hassan had been Makarov's right hand and closest associate. Hassan admired him, his work, his power. The day he got KIA during one of his biggest missions that would've solidified Konnis control on Urzikstan, due to the Task Force141, it all fell on Hassan's shoulders. Now it was Hassan's time to shine, to show just how much he had learned.
Hassan's reign would last 4 years. Enough to wage terror on the world and make his name known just like his mentor's name once was. Hassan had become far greater than Makarov was in such a short amount of time. Unfortunately, the Task Force had managed to get a hold of Hassan during one of the missions and shipped him off to a russian Gulag for his crimes, hoping it would hold.
That's how another 4 years passed. The Task Force was just on their way to a new mission. Looking out the chopper over the sea as they flew to their destination filled with a strange sense of tranquility. It had been quiet the last few years...almost too quiet.
And as if speaking of the devil, Captain Prices coms crackled to life. The serious and panicked voice of Laswell coming through.
"John, Hassan is out..." She said in a serious tone of voice.
Price froze for a moment. His face paling in horror. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. His hand shot up to his coms. "Say again, Laswell?"
"Hassan. Is. Out." She confirmed more clearly. It was obvious she wasn't joking. Hassan had escaped the Gulag just like Makarov had.
History was repeating itself...