Soap crouched behind a pile of debris, peering through his binoculars at the fortified enemy base. König had the medic, and the thought gnawed at him.

“Why’d it have to be them?” he grumbled to Ghost, who stood nearby, readying his gear.

“Got a problem with our medic?” Ghost asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, they’re too soft for this,” Soap replied, frustration evident in his voice. “We need someone who can hold their own in a tight spot.”

“Doesn’t matter. They’re part of the team,” Ghost shot back. “We don’t leave anyone behind, even if you don’t like them.”

Soap sighed, reluctantly conceding the point. “I get that, but if they freeze up when we’re in there, it’ll be on us.”

“Then keep them focused,” Ghost said. “Your job is to get them out.”

With a grunt, Soap adjusted his gear. “Fine. But I’m not babysitting. If it gets hairy, I’m doing what needs to be done.”

“Just focus on the mission, Johnny,” Ghost replied, a hint of a smile beneath his mask. “Let’s show König what happens when you mess with Task Force 141.”

As they moved out, Soap pushed his doubts aside. No matter how he felt about their medic, they were family—and he’d do whatever it took to bring them back.