Alright so after a nice little oneshot to celebrate my return, I will now kick off the new Shay with a Call of Duty 4 fic of epic proportions. SET BEFORE MW2!!! This will be even more epic than the Akatsuki Hearts! It started with a picture I drew…(don't they all??) Well, here we go. Enjoy and give me feedback!

Syndicate

John 'Soap' MacTavish quickly reloaded his MP5 behind a hay bale. He quickly glanced over the hay and looked across the wheat field. About twenty Russian soldiers stood and knelt, firing ammo away at the few S.A.S members from across the field. Soap looked to his left and saw Captain Price screaming something to Command. Gaz knelt next to him, pulling the pin of a frag grenade.

"Agh!" Soap yelled and pressed his hand to his shoulder. 'Spaced out again,' he thought. Ignoring the wound, Soap stood up for a quick moment and fired another round of bullets in the Russians' direction.

Captain Price had just executed Khaled Al-Asad after finding out that the recent nuclear bomb explosion in the middle east was not ordered by Al-Asad, but by Imran Zakhaev. Unfortunately, there was an unexpected ambush on the S.A.S team after the execution, and they needed to escape. The fight was raging well into the night, and the sky was clear, allowing the starlight to illuminate the souls of the SA.S squad.

Soap operated like a robot, he didn't say much, and when he was told to do something, he did it and did it right. He was fairly new to the 22nd squad, but he had been in the Scottish military since the day he graduated from high school, so killing dozens of people each day didn't phase him much anymore. Soap was 22 going on 23, and still a boy inside. He was good old Private MacTavish; nothing special. Truth be told, the life of a soldier was never really his dream. He didn't do it for the fighting or to carry the pride of his country on his back. Soap did it for himself. Being a bit of an off-beat in high school, Soap didn't have anything going for him. He had no future plans, and what better plan for an indecisive teen than to join the military? So, that's what Soap did. He answered the call of duty. Honestly, he would rather be sitting on a couch with a beer watching X-Files. All of Soap's fighting passed by so quickly. He would shoot, reload, shoot, reload, and over again. Fortunately, he was used to it. But right now, he was in a fix and his squad needed him, so he would fight.

"It's no use, mate! They just keep coming! Fall back!" Captain Price shouted.

"Fall back!" Gaz repeated. All the S.A.S. members shot a few more shells and began to retreat. They slowly fell back to the top of a hill behind them and descended slowly.

"--we could really use a lift out of here!" Soap picked up a bit from Captain Price blowing his head off to Command. Soap got a gut feeling and turned around to shoot a Russian trying to sneak up on him. "We're out of here, boys! Get your arses down to the gas station now!" Price yelled and turned to run. Soap ceased his fire and rushed down the rocky hill, tripping occasionally. Soap tried to jump a rock, but fell short and fell on his face, cutting his cheek.

"Gah!" Soap yelled out in pain and picked his head up, looking around frantically. He saw a group of bushes near him and got up quickly to take cover in them. Suddenly, bullets from what sounded to be a shotgun began to fly out from the bush. Soap grunted.

'Someone must be in there, but who?' he thought. But then, a Russian a ways up the hill shot a round into the bush and a high scream was heard, followed by a thud. Soap gasped. Whoever they were, they weren't enemies. Why else would the Russians shoot? Soap go to his feet and ran to the bushes, avoiding enemy fire. Soap pushed through the prickly branches, squinting his eyes and gritting his teeth from the prickles of the bushes. He pushed away the last branch and fell to the ground to avoid being spotted or shot. After waiting a moment, Soap got to his knees and looked around for the victim. He saw no one. 'I know I heard someone scream.' he thought. He looked around, and a flash of white behind a spruce caught his eye. Staying low to the ground, Soap crawled over to the tree and looked behind it.

"Whoa." What he saw had surprised him.. Propped against the spruce was a woman. This woman had long, unkempt blonde hair and a once-white sleeveless shirt that was now stained with patches of blood. Her shoeless, tiny feet were bruised and blistered. On her arm was a large tattoo of the Russian coat of arms; a two-headed yellow eagle with three crowns and a red crest in the center of a horsemen. 'She's Russian…' Soap thought. He looked to her face and Soap was distorted with confusion. Covering her soft features was a bright red bandana. Soap looked closer. Printed on the bandana off to the side was the communist symbol of a yellow sickle and mallet. But this was different, there was a large black X through the symbol. 'This girl, this young girl, is a rebel…' Soap pondered the woman. Her eyes were closed, and she appeared to be drifting in and out of consciousness based off of her breathing. Soap thought long and hard about what he was about to do. He closed his eyes and took in a breath, then opened them.

"You are going to be alright, I am a friend. I'll help you. Just be calm," Soap said to the woman. He proceeded to pick her up to take her back to the chopper, but didn't have the chance to do so. The woman sprung up and hit Soap lamely in the face. Her fierce lagoon-colored eyes were open. She shouted something angrily in Russian, and tried to hit him again, but Soap caught her hand this time. "I'm trying to help you! It's alright now! But you can't be doing that or you'll die!" Soap said.

"Go! I do not need help go!" the woman screamed. Soap clamped a hand over her mouth.

"My chopper is leaving! So shut up and come with me!" Soap said. The woman began to shout again in Russian and Soap had had enough. He then took the butt of his MP5 and hit the woman over the head. The woman gasped a little and widened her eyes before slowly closing them and falling forward. Soap caught the woman and flipped her over his body with a grunt. Soap stood, and adjusted the woman's position, and ran from the bushes down the hill. The gas station had come into view right away. He felt his heart race as he saw the rest of his team already boarding the chopper.

'Damn girl giving me a hard time like that!' he thought and quickened his pace. He jumped from a large rock to the pavement below and landed sloppily, but recovered quickly. Soap heard gunshots coming from behind and turned his head around, it was the Russians, they had caught up. Soap's heart was beating out of his chest now. The helicopter became closer as did the Russians.

"Soap! The 'ell, 'urry up!" Captain Price shouted to him. Soap kept running despite the gunshots behind him. He felt one hit his back. A sting of pain tranquilized him for a split second.

"Gah!" he shouted and faltered to the ground, but painfully stood up again and sprinted the last few paces to the helicopter. The chopper slowly rose and Soap's heart sank. He was so close. With a burst of adrenaline, Soap threw the woman on the deck. Gaz's face was a confused one, but he leapt forward to catch the slipping woman and pull her up. Then Soap took a giant leap and caught onto the deck by one hand. Soap gritted his teeth and held on for dear life as he swung from the deck's edge. His fingers were slipping now, and the Russians were still shooting. Soap was giving up hope, his days in the military were over, and so was his life. Soap clenched his eyes shut and let go. Soap felt someone grab his wrist. Soap was being pulled up to the deck. The person grabbed hold of Soap's collar and heaved him up the rest of the way. Soap hit the deck with a thud.

"Got ya, Soap. You're okay." Captain Price said, still holding onto Soap's collar. Soap let out a long sigh and began to close his eyes. The gunshot had tired him out, and the adrenaline was gone. The gunshots from the Russians faded off as Soap closed his eyes completely.

When Soap awoke, he was laying on the hard floor of the chopper, his back ached, and his head felt like it was spinning. He looked around, no one had treated his wound, and his crew was talking about something incoherent. Soap began to sit up and remembered the woman. He looked around frantically and was relieved to see her laying on the bench to the right of him with Gaz at her feet. He looked around some more and saw Captain Price yelling his head off at the S.A.S sitting next to him. Price paused for a moment and looked at Soap.

"About bloody time you woke up, Soap! You and your little friend there aren't doing too damn well! We got to get you both to the clinic 'cause of your little heroic stunt! What the 'ell were you thinking?! You're lucky Gaz there didn't have the heart to let 'er slide off that deck! Explain yourself! Now!" Price outraged. Soap sat up fully.

"I saw her get shot by the Russians from the cover of a few bushes. I couldn't just leave her there! Look at her!" Soap said and flailed his hand to the woman. Price gave him a glare.

"That's about the worst explanation I've ever 'eard! Know what? The girl's an idiot! She obviously didn't know what she was getting 'erself into out there! So once she get's all patched up, I want you to escort her 'ome immediately! Go' it?!" Price exclaimed. Soap sighed, and nodded to his Captain. It was true. This woman was a total pain in the ass. Soap couldn't get past her stupidity. After all his years in the military, he had learned not to be reckless, but to take your time and not get hurt rather than rush, but this girl hadn't a clue!

He looked back at the girl. Her bandana had been removed, revealing her whole face. Soap was frozen. Her features seemed like those of a porcelain doll. Soap looked down at her wound, which was still staining her shirt. Even though it wasn't his fault, it was still terrible to see. Looking away, he noticed her hands, which weren't like the dainty little lady-fingered hands that the women on the posters of the barracks had. These were like the hands of a man: big, tough, and chaliced. Her tattooed arms matched. She was strong despite her small size. Although she wasn't nearly as strong as any of the men in the chopper with her, she could still probably hold her own in a fight. Soap looked down to her legs. They were thin, and her feet…her feet were so incredibly miniscule that Soap wondered how she managed even running. He looked away from the woman and out the deck opening. He recognized the area below. They were close.

About fifteen minutes later, the chopper made its slow descent to the ground. Soap stood up painfully and made his way to the woman to carry her into the clinic, but Gaz stopped him.

"You're too battered, mate. You should worry about carrying yourself in there. Don't worry, I'll take the girl." he said. Soap gave him a look of mild sourness, and proceeded out of the chopper, hand on his upper shoulder. A medic waited near the door to the clinic, which was located in a desolate Russian area. Soap walked down the dirt path towards the medic, and looked behind him to see Gaz carrying the woman carefully as he had said he would. Soap was near the doorway now, and the medic, plain and boring, and sadly male, motioned for Soap to follow him. Soap entered the old clinic and turned down a hallway with rooms full of incapacitated soldiers. Soap was led into an empty room where he was told to remove his upper clothing and lay on his stomach. Soap did so, and the medic began to examine his wound.

"Hmm, well, MacTavish, looks like you'll live." the medic said. Soap rolled his eyes. "The gunshot hasn't hit any vital organs, and considering your responsive behavior, I'd say all you'll need is to get the bullet removed and have the wound cleaned and dressed. Stay here, mate. I'll be right back. We're gonna get that bullet out now." the medic said while rushing out of the room. Soap lay still, not budging an inch. He didn't know why, but he couldn't stop thinking about the woman. What was the matter with her? Was she really that stupid? Was she alright? Soap was very annoyed at the young woman for her stubbornness and foolishness. After all, that's why he was lying in a hospital bed with a gunshot wound. Still, there was something interesting about her. She seemed to be bold, the complete opposite of the calm and obedient Soap MacTavish…

"Okay, mate, I brought back the good stuff!" the medic said as he reentered the room. Soap looked up at him. The medic held a small syringe filled with a cloudy liquid. Soap cringed, he hated needles. The medic's face scrunched up in confusion. "No need to worry, my friend. Jus' a li'l pinch then it's off to wonderland." the medic said and quickly gave Soap the shot through his right bicep. Soap winced. But then, then, Soap felt real…good…

Soap cracked one of his eyes open and let the light flood in. It stung, being so used to darkness. He opened both of his eyes and started to sit up.

"Agh." Soap put a hand to his head. He felt horrible. His entire body ached. Soap fully sat up and rubbed his head. He looked down to his body, it was neatly cleaned and patched with linen. Soap then suddenly remembered, the woman. Soap quickly got out of bed and put on a black shirt that was placed next to the bed and left the room. Soap wandered the halls, looking for the woman he had rescued. He hoped she was still alright. Soap wandered the halls for a very long time, but he just couldn't find the woman's room anywhere. He was about to speed past a hall he thought he had already passed when he heard a voice and skidded to a stop.

"Natasha Imrov you said your name was? Huh, Russian, eh? Well, no matter, looks to me like you'll be alright. Just…try not to be so reckless," someone said. Soap shook his head. At least he wasn't the only one who thought that of her. His search was over, so he entered the hallway and peered into each room. After three empty rooms, he had finally made it to the right one. Peering inside, he saw the woman. She was laying on her back with bandages around her waist and chest and a few gauze patches on her face. Her bird's nest hair was tied back sloppily and her eyes were closed, but Soap knew she was awake. He quietly entered the room and made his way to the desk near the bed. Soap lifted up the simple plastic chair from the desk and carried it over to the woman's bedside. Soap set it down and sat in the chair adjusting himself comfortably. He was still now, and his eyes were on the woman. She was gorgeous…Soap faltered awkwardly and blushed to himself.

'What am I thinking? I know nothing about this girl…' Soap thought. The woman's fluttering eyes caught his attention. He studied her carefully as the lagoon-colored eyes began to open again. She sat still for a moment then looked in Soap's direction. Her calm face changed suddenly into shock.

"You! It's you, the soldier from the foothills!" The woman shouted with an accusing finger pointed at Soap. Soap was disgruntled.

"Yes, I am the soldier from the foothills who saved your bloody life! Do you have any idea how stupid you are?!" Soap retorted.

"How stupid I am?! Impossible! You're the one who decided to bring me back to your little base camp here!"

"You were bleeding profusely! You were dead weight trying to shoot that gun! Speaking of dead, that's what you'd be if I didn't show up!"

"I had it completely under control!"

"Not a chance!"

"Coward!"

"Amateur!"

"That's IT! I've had enough! Shut your mouth now or I'll rip it off!" the woman screamed while clenching her fist. She was sitting up now, glaring, and legs twisted in the white blankets. Soap glared back and grit his teeth at her.

"Why you little…"

"All right that's enough! You two lovebirds are gonna make my ears bleed!" Soap turned to the doorway to see Captain Price leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. "Soap, this is a bloody hospital, so keep it down. You, girl, Soap 'ere saved your life, so I'd show a little gratitude," Price said. Soap sighed and turned to the window, avoiding eye contact with the woman and Price. He heard Captain Price leave after a small chuckle.

"My name is Natasha Imrov. I am a Russian rebel of Russia," Soap heard the woman say with pride. He couldn't help but laugh.

"No shit, where else would a Russian rebel come from? Ha-ha!" he said and turned to Natasha. She was glaring. Soap stopped laughing and cleared his throat. "I'm John MacTavish. But my nickname around here is Soap, 'cause I'm the only one around here who bathes everyday," he said, sugar-coating the words. Natasha's face softened and she rolled her eyes.

"Good to know," she said. Soap grinned a little. "I do have a question for you, Soap," Natasha said timidly.

"Hmm?"

"Well…why exactly did you save me?" she questioned. Soap made a confused face.

"Why wouldn't I save you? You certainly aren't one of the bad guys, and you seem to have a good heart," Soap said, smiling. Natasha looked down and fiddled with the sheets in her lap. Her face was hidden. Soap leaned over a bit to try and see her face. Natasha took in a breath and propped her head back up, beaming.

"Hmm, I guess you're right!" she said. Something was wrong. Soap knew.

"Huh, alright, Natasha," Soap emphasized her name, "I have a question for you now."

"What is it?" Natasha said. Soap smirked.

"Why are you so reckless?" he asked. Natasha giggled innocently. Almost too innocently.

"Oh! I don't know, Soap. I've always been this way. My parents back in Vladivostok always thought that of me," Natasha said. Soap shook his head, smiling. This woman had really grown on him.

"Natasha, I want to know everything about you. What was your life like?" he asked her, sounding very interested and leaning in, supporting his head on his hands. Natasha looked up to the ceiling, then back at Soap.

"Why?" she asked. Soap cocked his head.

"I really don't know…you just are so interesting to me for some reason," he said. Natasha stared at him in befuddlement. Soap grinned stupidly and looked away. "Sorry, that sounded weird," he said.

"No no it's okay. I don't really think about my past very often so it'd be nice to reflect on it," Natasha said and smiled at him. She obviously was a people-pleaser. Soap looked back at her and smiled. Natasha turned the corner of her mouth up slightly and sighed. She closed her eyes.

"I was born and raised in Vladivostok by my two parents, Olga and Mikhail Imrov. I loved my parents very much. They were very good to me, you know. We didn't have much money, but we still managed. My father worked in the seaports, he was a fish merchant. My mother, well, she didn't work much, but she cleaned some of the neighborhood's houses for money on occasion, but she mostly stayed home with me…" As Natasha went on about her childhood, and how she enjoyed swimming, and how her father had been drafted into the war, and how he never came back, Soap listened so intently. He truly loved listening to her. But for some reason, he felt like she was leaving something out. Even so, he still listened. "…It was cancer my mother had. But we didn't know until it was too late, and even if we did know, we had no money to help her. So, I lived on and just felt like being a rebel against the communists was my call of duty. I mean, what better thing to do for a young person like me with nothing going for them than to join the armed forces? Well, I guess I'm not really in the armed forces, but, that's not the point," Natasha stopped and chuckled. She looked in Soap's direction. He was still looking at her, waiting to hear more. Natasha smiled at him.

Well, that's the end of chapter one! I hope you guys like it and I'm looking forward to reviews! A big thanks to Sabet for helping me fine tune this chapter in particular! Later, guys!