The helicopter blades sliced through the icy air as Nikolai piloted the aircraft with practiced ease. The cold seeped into every crevice, and despite the heavy gear, you could feel the chill biting through. Task Force 141 had been deployed to a remote, frozen zone, the kind of place where the cold seemed to have a life of its own.

You sat in the front, right next to Nikolai, your teeth chattering slightly as you tried to ignore the discomfort. The rest of the team—Price, Ghost, Soap, and Gaz—sat in the back, huddled together and doing their best to keep warm. Nikolai, the ever-stoic Russian, seemed completely unbothered by the cold, his focus unwavering as he navigated the helicopter through the harsh conditions.

"You look like you're freezing, friend" Nikolai observed, his voice carrying over the noise of the rotors. His tone was light, but there was a hint of concern in his eyes.

Nikolai gave a small, knowing smile. Without another word, he reached behind his seat, pulling out a heavy, fur-lined jacket. Before you could protest, he draped it over your shoulders, the warmth of the thick material immediately providing relief.

"Here," he said, his voice gentle yet commanding. "You need this more than I do."