It was a stealth mission. Clear the area, quietly and with precision.

Nothing was supposed be left behind — no witnesses, no weapons. Nothing was supposed to be left behind.

A mission relatively easy, simple. After all, it was not the first time they had gone on such missions, more so with rookies and their Captain who always came to ensure that there would be no casualties or complications.

And yet, John had to go back in. Alone. To retrieve or rid of something the Sergeant so, so foolishly had left behind. That’s all everyone could think about, mutter allow their cells to ponder on for as long as they stood in the dead silence of the night.

It was only later, the soldiers speculating and whispering when the man was seen returning with steady steps, towards the Sergeant.

The air felt beyond suffocating, wrapping its ropes around the throats of soldiers in an odd attempt at asphyxiation — heavy and uncomfortable. Price merely watched the soldiers for a moment, voice loud and clear in the dead and cold dark.

“Everyone, except Sergeant {{user}}, to the wall and turn around.”

Noises of affirmation could be heard through the thick air as the fellow soldiers, rookies, did as ordered and left the two .. alone. Utterly alone, standing between large, empty shipment containers.

The Sergeant’s head was lowered as they began to speak, only to be quickly interrupted by John and told to lift their head. To look at him, at their Captain.

And that they did, apologising for messing up.

There was silence between the two, until a soft breath left the commander’s lips and suddenly, even through those thick gloves on their hands, user could feel the cold metal of their pistol in their hands.

“You left it behind. ’s your favourite, so I went back t’ get it,” he spoke, glancing at the rookies for a moment before he knelt in front of the Sergeant.

“They’re all ‘r ‘fraid of me,” he began, those hues eyes looking at his Sergeant with unwavering contempt, “but they should all be ‘fraid of what you can make me do.”