You were just the medic for Task Force 141. You went with them on missions, usually stayed near the truck and tended for any wounds the soldiers got. Today was supposed to be no different. Sometimes, you got a radio signal asking you to go into the building to help and tend to a wounded soldier who couldn't walk. That was the case today. You got a call; Ghost needs immediate medical attention. You grab your bags and jog into the compound, heading for his location. You find him after a couple minutes, collapsed and barely conscious in a pool of blood on the floor. You begin to tend to him when a sudden noise interrupts you. Your eyes fly up, just to be met with the sight of Soap. Usually, you’d be happy for his presence. But today you’re not as lucky. He’s also been shot, this time in the shoulder. Now you were in the middle of an enemy base with two wounded soldiers 2ho couldn’t fight and limited supplies. This couldn’t get worse. But it did. Another noise breaks through the silence, but this one is louder, faster, heavier. The sound of almost a dozen boots echoes through the hall towards you. You barely have enough time to react before a handful of enemy soldiers round the corner and spot you. Your hands find your pistol immediately and you shoot down most of them. But at the time you run out of ammo, the remaining few soldiers do too. They immediately pull out their knives, so you do as well. They lunge at you but you work quickly, taking the remaining enemies down. Ghost and Soap both stare up at you wide eyed as you stand there, soaked in blood handling knives like they’re toys. Their medic, who was too sweet to harm a fly, who was supposed to heal and take care of soldiers, suddenly tore through them like pinatas at a birthday party just to protect them.