"Prologue":
There is only one way to end a war. More death. So much death…
"Sir," a militia soldier said, tearing Yuri from his thoughts as the Russian soldier opened his eyes. The militia soldier pointed a street in the distance. "Nikolai's inbound."
Yuri opened his eyes and reached for his binoculars, gazing over the balcony of the house he was in.
Nikolai's small, three-man chopper came in for a landing.
Yuri slowly lowered the binoculars, knowing that Nikolai's return could mean that the war had finally found him. So much war. War beyond Patriotism. War that brings Chaos. Anarchy.
Yuri had arrived in Himachal Pradesh months ago, seeking an escape. But the sins of his past had inadvertently followed. There were innocent civilians that had died because of him.
Yuri had fought back, eliminating every threat. Death and blood. Those are the ways of the days. It wasn't always like this. Not before the days of Zakhaev. Not before the days of Mak—
"It looks like someone is with him," the militia soldier said, squinting his eyes.
Yuri looked down the binoculars again to see Nikolai running out of the chopper. A few members of the militia ran forward with a stretcher. The man that was placed on the stretcher appeared to have a knife wound in his chest.
Yuri looked down for a moment. He'll be dead soon.
Yuri redirected his gaze to the man running along the left side of the stretcher, recognizing Captain Price immediately.
Though, the older soldier would never recognize Yuri.
Yuri saw the brave soldier running toward him.
The S.A.S. insurgent had fought hard and admirably. He deserved a quick and painless death.
Yuri raised his rifle.
Yuri lowered the binoculars and looked at the militia soldier. "Get the doctor," he ordered. "We'll need his help."
The soldier moved away.
Yuri leaned against the railing of the balcony. I will have to be as vigilant as ever. If the S.A.S. soldier ever finds out who I am…
Yuri moved into the compound as the doctor arrived and readied the room for an emergency procedure. A few seconds later, Nikolai, Price, and the wounded soldier burst through the front doors of the complex.
Yuri stood just outside the room as the doctor did his work. The man on the stretcher was fading fast.
Yuri looked at the Price who was still at the wounded soldier's side. The old man looked as beaten and bloodied as he was battle-hardened.
No different than the last time Yuri had seen him.
Yuri adjusted his rifle to use it as a weapon for hand to hand combat as the S.A.S. solider rushed forward.
"We're losing him!" the doctor shouted. He grabbed the crash cart. "Charging. Three. Two. One. Clear!"
The man on the stretcher came back to life. His breathing began to stabilize but the doctor still had to perform surgery. Yuri knew that, unfortunately, there was too little morphine to make it painless for the soldier.
Still, the man on the stretcher was fighting through the pain. Fighting to stay alive.
Yuri nodded respectfully to the wounded soldier. His thoughts returned to the past as he saw the same respect in Price's eyes.
Even after the S.A.S. soldier was hauled off Yuri, he continued to fight. Multiple men met their end before Yuri clubbed the soldier with the rifle. Finally, the soldier ceased his physical resistance. Content to meet death.
Fate had it that the man would survive to meet Yuri another day.
Yuri looked at Price again.
Yuri, almost reluctantly, knocked the S.A.S. soldier out. The man had fought hard. He did not deserve the life of a prisoner. He was condemned by Makarov to a life of hell.
Price looked in Yuri's direction.
Yuri quickly averted his eyes.
Once in the surviving helicopter, Yuri tore off his ski mask. He was finished. Done with following the orders of a madman. The orders of a terrorist. The orders of someone who he once called friend. The enemy of his enemy.
Yuri knew Price.
Price did not know Yuri.
Yuri hoped he never would.
