“Captain, you gotta make it quick… I’m all out of ammo, sir.” 

You manage to speak into the comms, voice coming out in short gasps as you try to keep your position steady, hidden awkwardly by a clump of rocks. The fall had twisted your ankle, and if anyone spotted you there, you were nothing better than a sitting duck.

When Task Force 141 went down to Russia to track down Makarov’s ultranationalist Konni Group, they knew that it’d be hard. Russian landscapes were terrible to fight in- one misstep could potentially cost your life. That’s what had happened to you. You’d been separated from the group, and had been chased down by soldiers. You had managed to take down at least five of them, but in the process, had stumbled off a short but steep cliff; twisting your ankle badly. To top it off, you were low on ammunition, and weren’t in a position to defend yourself using knives. 

“Hold on, lass.” Soap’s voice comes through, faint sounds of gunshot prominent in the background. “We’re i’ a bit o’ a sticky situation ourselves-” His voice gets muffled as he seemingly dives to avoid hostiles.

“Are you hurt too bad?” Price’s voice sounds next, deep and gruff. “Have you been shot?” 

“Negative, sir, but-” 

“That’s good then,” Price cuts you off. “Where are you? Stay under cover till we arrive, okay? We’re nearly here.” They were about to breach the base. 

“I’ll stay put,” you mutter, having no other option but to wait for help to arrive. Your leg throbs with pain with the slightest movement, so you try to stay as still as possible.

The sky’s getting darker, and the temperature’s falling; you can feel that through the layers of clothing and all the gear on you. Russian winters are deadly.

You can’t help but start to feel a bit worried.