A most peculiar thing happened in the submarine headquarters of the Task Force 141. A kitten appeared right in the briefing room, just as Lieutenant-General Shepherd had been debriefing his men after yet another successful mission. "God damn it, why is there a kitten in a sub?" the American general cursed as he covered his nose with a handkerchief and started to sneeze.
"It must have sneaked in when the sub was docked," Ghost offered, a highly viable explanation. The kitten climbed up onto the desk, strewn with papers and looked at Shepherd with its little head tilted to the side. Honestly, that action itself did more than enough to cause the whole room to chorus in multiple "awww" sounds.
Shepherd, however, was unfazed of his subordinates liking towards the little critter. "I don't care how it got in, gentlemen," he cursed as Roach intuitively took it in his arms, cradling the fur-ball as it wiggled around. "But as soon as we get on land, you're gonna make sure that it is fifty feet away from the sub, am I understood?"
The members of the 141 jumped to their feet and saluted Shepherd as he left the room, while the kitten just looked around and meowed. "What are we gonna do with it, Captain?" asked the FNG to Soap (whose comrades did not know about his call sign-slash-nickname), who was now scratching between the kitten's ears. It seemed to like it a lot, and was purring happily.
"Well, we'd better keep it away from Shepherd for one thing," Soap answered, "I'd say we should take turns to take care of it. Roach, why don't you start?"