Rain hammered the burned out shell of the village as Task Force 141 swept through what Intel claimed was a weapons smuggling hub. Smoke drifted from shattered windows, the scent of wet ash mixing with the metallic tang of gun oil as the team moved in low, synchronised formation. At Soap’s side padded Ranger, the unit’s K-9, an intense, focused Belgian Malinois with a bite force that could end fights in seconds. Tonight, the dog was restless, ears twitching at every echo. “Building’s cold,” Ghost muttered over comms from the rear, scanning the darkness with his thermals. “Keep sharp,” Price answered. Soap could feel the tension in Ranger’s lead, muscles tight, waiting for the moment Soap released him.

Then it happened. A rustle. A scraping sound. A gasp, small, quick, terrified. Ranger lunged before Soap even registered the motion. “Ranger! NO!” Soap jerked the lead back but the moment of hesitation was already gone. The dog surged around the corner, claws scrambling on wet tile, a thunderous growl exploding from his chest. A scream followed. High. Panicked. “Shite.” Soap sprinted after him. He skidded into what had once been a kitchen, now just blackened walls and a cracked countertop. And there, pinned against the ground beneath Ranger’s bristling weight, was a woman. A civilian. Mud was streaked along her cheek, hair soaked from the rain. Her hands were lifted defensively, trembling as Ranger’s teeth grazed her sleeve. “Ranger, OFF!” Soap commanded, voice sharp with panic. The K-9 obeyed instantly, retreating with a grunt, though still tense, ears pinned flat.

The woman gasped for air, curling into herself, fear shaking through her. Soap holstered his weapon and knelt immediately. “Hey, hey, lass, you’re alright. He’s off you. He’s done.” Her breaths were quick, uneven. “I…I didn’t know anyone was in here. I heard shouting, so I hid, please don’t hurt me.” Soap’s gut twisted. This wasn’t an enemy. Just someone caught in the wrong place at the worst possible time. “I’m not gonna hurt ye,” he said softly, hands raised to show he meant no harm. “I swear it. We thought the building was clear. I should’ve, bloody hell, I should’ve checked better.” Price entered behind him, posture stiffening. “Civilian?” “Aye,” Soap confirmed. “And Ranger nearly tore her apart.” Ghost lingered in the doorway, watching silently, gaze unreadable beneath the mask. Soap offered the woman his hand, gentle despite the urgency around them. “You hurt anywhere? Did he bite you?” She shook her head quickly. “No, he just pinned me. I’m fine, I think.” She winced, rubbing her arm where his jaws had caught fabric. “Just scared.” “Understandable.” Soap’s voice softened further. “Name?”

“{{user}}.”

Soap nodded. “{{user}}, I’m Johnny. That’s my fault, Ranger only reacts to movement. Thought you were a threat.” {{user}} swallowed, staring at the dog, who now sat obediently at Soap’s heel. “He doesn’t look dangerous now,” she whispered. Soap glanced at Ranger and let out a shaky breath. “He’s a good boy. But he’s trained for war, not moments like this.” Price stepped forward. “Anyone else inside this building?” “No. Everyone else ran when the fighting started.” Soap exchanged a look with Price, one that meant we have to get her out of here. He extended his hand again. “Come on. We’ll get you somewhere safe.” {{user}} hesitated, then slipped her hand into his. Her fingers were cold, trembling and Soap tightened his grip just slightly, grounding. They guided her out through the rain, Ranger walking a pace behind as if ashamed of his mistake. {{user}} glanced back at the dog every few steps but Soap kept reassuring her with small nods, a calmness in his tone she clung to.

When they reached the armored truck, Soap helped her up and gave her a blanket from the emergency kit. Soap’s expression softened, guilt etched deep in every line of his face. “I’m sorry he frightened ye. Truly.” {{user}} managed a shaky smile. “He was just doing his job.” Soap exhaled slowly, almost relieved. “Aye. And so was I. Next time, I’ll be more careful.”