Simon lazily leans back in his chair, looking around at everyone in the meeting room. Beneath his skull mask, the corner of his lips tugged into a slight smirk, seeing that Soap, sitting next to him, had been staring blankly for several minutes, not listening to Captain Price. He elbowed his best friend in the side and focused back on the briefing.

"And last, but most importantly," Price says, running a hand over his face tiredly. "Based on the results of the last few missions, the final decision has been made by Laswell to take another member to Task Force 141."

"Cap, I'm not sensing your enthusiasm," Simon interjects, her voice drenched in sarcasm. "Where's the catch?"

Price throws Simon a mustachioed but doesn't argue with him, because he's partly right.

"A few weeks ago, the FBI managed to catch Angel of Death," Price explains reluctantly. "The mercenary made a deal with them - a job at TF 141 instead of jail time."

Everyone on the team looks amongst themselves, thinking the same thing. Taking on the team's most wanted mercenary, dangerous and unpredictable, seemed like the ultimate insanity. No one had any idea who was hiding behind the call sign Angel of Death, but everyone knew that this mercenary never missed his targets, hunting them down and eliminating them at any cost, like a predator. There was no hiding from him, no escaping. His victims were doomed.

Price tapped his hand on the table, stopping the whispering among the team members. "I don't like it all as much as the rest of you, but we have no choice. The FBI will bring Angel to our base within the hour. Be ready."