I do not own Call of duty and I have a poll going on for this story. My beta reader for this is/was D353RT5TORM.
The entire journey started at the S.A.S base in Hereford, England. One specific room had contained two important men. One, sitting down, had a Mohawk, had a decent tan, was well built, his height about six feet, and in his early 30s to mid 40s. This man's name was John "Soap" Mactavish. Third in command of Task Force 141, the best handpicked group of warriors on the planet. Another guy, this one standing, was looking out the window, with smoke slowly drifting from his face. It was likely he was having a cigar. He was Caucasian, with dark brown hair obscured by a bonnie hat, a beard and moustache, and blue eyes that could tear a hole into your soul. He was standing at about six feet and one inch, with a similar build to Mactavish, and was in his early 40s to mid 50s, possibly even older. His name was Captain John Price and was the 2nd in command of Task Force 141.
"What do you got for me, Soap?" Price asked with a gruff voice, indicating he was getting old and had been smoking for the past 20 years… maybe even longer.
"Well I got good news, bad news, and terrible news," Soap replied with a Scottish accent.
"What's the good news?" Price asked, still staring outside to make sure the men were working.
"Well the U.S. has intel of a possible attack set by Russia, we have an atomic and/or nuclear bomb threat, and finally, we have the dead Imran Zakhaev's lap dog, Vladimir Makarov, on the loose and off the grid," Soap muttered with a tired voice.
"Just another day at the office," Price responded as it was the most simplest thing in the world. "And, the bad news?"
"Well, Shepherd is pulling four soldiers from the Army Rangers, one J-SOC unit, three Marines from U.S.M.C, four soldiers from the S.A.S, and himself to stay here and train or something. Oh yeah, getting two friendly Russians too. One of which we know, and the other Nikolai knows," Soap replied, opening a document that Shepherd had given to him.
"Right. And the terrible news?" Price asked with a sigh and a noticeable twitch in his right eye.
"Well it appears we're getting a new FNG sir. Call sign Roach," Soap uttered with his eyes widening while he was reading the lads profile.
"Right...what the hell kind of name is 'Roach,' eh? How'd a muppet like him pass selection?" Price asked remembering he had asked Soap the same thing when he was the FNG.
"Well it says the lad has about twenty purple hearts… damn. As for passing, he got a total time of 18.27 seconds in The Pit, not one civvie was hit, and all tangoes were taken down with a single head shot each. And all he used was a USP .45 and a G18!" Soap gasped with noticeable astonishment in his voice. He looked up to see Price look around with the same face expression. Shock.
"Bollocks," Price said. "How old is the lad?"
"Eighteen when he joined, but just turned twenty about ten months ago," Soap nodded, laughing at what he just read.
"What are you laughing at Soap?" Price asked with an expression that was a mix of surprise and confusion.
"Because it says that Shepherd practically begged the lad to join. Even to go as far as going on his knees to beg," Soap said while chuckling.
"Quiet, Soap," Price said while giggling a bit himself. "What's the lad's rank?"
"Sergeant," Soap stated.
"Well we might as well inform the men on the situation and get the rooms ready," Price said.
And with that they left the room to tell everyone and get everything set. They were extremely unaware of the laughs, cries, scares, and adventures ahead of them. They were looking forward to the future.