The world was reduced to a suffocating cacophony of ringing ears, the acrid taste of copper, and the suffocating weight of grey dust. Farrah’s voice cut through the haze, frantic and choked. "Get up! Movement on the ridge!"

I tried to push myself off the concrete floor, but my left leg screamed in protest, trapped beneath a collapsed support beam and tons of pulverized masonry. The safehouse our supposed sanctuary was now a tomb. Mortar shells had turned the upper levels into a cascading avalanche of rubble.

Another explosion rocked the foundation. Dust fell like grey snow, blinding and thick. I coughed violently, my chest burning. "I'm pinned!" I called out, the sound barely a rasp.

Farrah was instantly beside me, her hands clawing desperately at the heavy slab of concrete pinning my thigh. "Hold on! Don't you dare close your eyes!" she ordered, her face smeared with soot and blood. She heaved, her muscles straining, but the debris didn't even budge. It was a cruel, dead weight.

Outside, the staccato rhythm of a heavy machine gun chewed through the remaining walls. We were out of time. The enemy was closing in to finish the sweep. Farrah drew her pistol, aiming toward the blown-out doorway, her breathing ragged. She wouldn't leave me. I knew that. But if she stayed, we’d both die in this concrete grave.

Suddenly, the roar of a helicopter echoed overhead, followed by the terrifyingly efficient, distinct crack of a suppressed assault rifle. "Clear!" a deep, gravelly voice barked over the comms and through the dust. A shadow loomed in the doorway. Broad shoulders, a familiar bucket hat, and a cigar stub clamped firmly between grim teeth.

Captain John Price.

Behind him, Soap and Gaz moved like ghosts, securing the perimeter with lethal precision. Price didn't hesitate. He took in the scene in a single sweep Farrah desperately trying to move the slab, me trapped beneath the grey filth, and the advancing threat outside.

"Soap, Gaz, secure the flank!" Price ordered, already dropping to his knees beside Farrah.

"On it, Cap" Soap’s Scottish brogue clipped through the chaos.