Disclaimer: I don't own Call of Duty. Just so we're clear on that.
AN: Set at the end of Modern Warfare 2
Soap gritted his teeth and tried to remain conscious. It was a struggle, with a knife in his gut and with a severe concussion from Shepard, but he couldn't pass out now, not with Captain Price and Shepherd trading blows. He had to make sure that Shepherd died, had to stay with them long enough to make sure that they succeeded. They owed that to Roach and the others who Shepherd betrayed at least, because despite all his pretty words about there being no shortage of volunteers, he would just as happily betray them as he had betrayed the men of the one-four-one and they deserved better than that. And the men of the one-four-one deserved better than betrayal.
A wave of pain suddenly overwhelmed Soap and he briefly blacked out for a moment. Suddenly the situation had changed and not for the better. Price was on the ground with Shepherd sitting on his chest, punching him again and again, clearly intent on beating Price to death.
It can't end like this, Soap thought hazily to himself. It can't end with that b%$$£ # winning. Even Makarov stayed true to his principles and he was an evil b%$$£ #. Soap turned his head and looked at the knife buried in his chest and a crazy, incredibly crazy idea crossed his mind. There was a way he could change the odds. He put his hand on the knife and began to pull.
At first, it didn't move at all, which didn't surprise Soap in the slightest to be honest. Caught up in his body armour and by the muscle and bone that held it there, it was never going to be easy. He placed his other hand on the knife and began pulling and slowly it began to move. He slid the blade side to side and slowly it came out. He gave a grim smile as he remembered his first aid instructor warning him against doing exactly what he was doing.
"Removing the object may well lead you to bleed to death!" his instructor had told them. But now it seemed so far away that it might as well have been another life for all it was worth. Dying had been very much on the cards since they had set off on this insane and crazy mission of revenge. As Price had told Nikolai, this was a one-way trip.
The knife slid out with a gush of blood spurting out. He was only going to have one shot at this and it had to count. Spinning the blade into place with practised precision and speed, he turned and looked at Shepherd, but the b%$$£ # was too close to Price for Soap to make the throw, especially not in his current position. He gritted his teeth. He needed to get Shepherds attention if only for a moment. Just long enough for him to put the b%$$£ # down. Then he smiled as another crazy idea hit him.
"Smile!" he said with a smirk and General Shepherd raised his head from his violent attack on Price. Soap had his window and he wasn't going to waste it. With a speed and efficiency that came from years of training, he threw General Shepherd's knife at him, to bury itself in his head with lethal force.
We did it! Soap thought to himself as he saw the General go down. We actually got the b%$$£ #. And as Price got to his feet and Nikolai's helicopter landed, Soap almost allowed himself a small smile. It looked like they might actually survive this suicidal mission after all.