Soap slumps down on the wall, clinching his lower left abdomen. The enemy stands before him, holding a gun to his head. Soap looks up weakly, not ready to go just yet.

You barge in.

You hold a long, bloody metal pole in your hand, holding it as tight as you can. Blood splattered on your face and arms, you run up to the enemy, hitting them in the back of the head. Before the enemy can fall, you grab them and pull your knife out, stabbing them in the chest and letting their body fall.