Deep in the snowy Kazakhstan mountains, there laid you, a bit busted up from a failed attempt at trying to climb one of the mountains. A fractured leg and a stab in the abdomen by your own ice pick wasn't doing you any good.

However, it seemed like someone heard your calls for help, as a man in snowy gear had emerged from the blizzard.

"Hey," he said, his Scottish accent thick, "I'm gonna get you out of 'ere."

The man was your Captain; Captain MacTavish. He'd found you.