Note: Please bear in mind that this story does not follow long the timeline of the Call of Duty Modern Warfare Series but there is strong reference to its events.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of the Call of Duty Modern Warfare Series mentioned in this story, they belong to Infinity Ward.

Oh yeah, no one dies.

So enjoy... if you dare *mu-ha ha ha ha...*

5years before the events of MW3...

Name: Pvt. Bree Collins

Nickname: Blu

Age: 26

Height: 5'9

Weight: 130lbs

Eye Colour: Hazel-Brown

Hair Colour: Black

Ethnicity: Afro-European

Selection time for the S.A.S wing of Taskforce 141 came around fast, especially since many of their great members were lost in their last mission.

General Shepherd called Cpt. John "Soap" MacTavish into his office to inform him of selection program that was to be put in place ASAP.

"Given the gravity of the situation all hands are needed on deck as soon as tomorrow. I have already sent out word about the selection" General Shepherd said to Cpt. MacTavish who now stood before him.

"All... hands, sir?" MacTavish said, with genuinely peaked interest.

"Certainly, knowing you... be sure use your discretion wisely Captain, we cannot afford any slip ups. And you won't want to disappoint dear old Price now wouldn't you. "the General said as he took a sip of his coffee.

"Very well, sir" Cpt. MacTavish replied as he turned to exit the General's Office.

"This is some damn good coffee" he heard Shepherd mutter to himself.

He knew exactly who he had in mind to run through the tryout stage. But the General did say all hands on deck so that meant most of the base might want to get in on the action.

That also meant his plans to attend that Glasgow football match went down the drain.

John scratched his head as he walked over to the S.A.S barracks. He had a lot of planning to do before the day was up.

Pvt. Bree "Blu" Collins made her way over to the kitchen at noon to find a cook named Louis. As always, he had kept an extra cookie from breakfast waiting for her in his special hiding place. She knew she should be watching her figure given her occupation and she was bordering along 140lbs, but you never play around with chocolate chip. The stuff made the world go round.

"MacTavish would kill me." She said to Louis, through a mouthful of cookie. His facial expression suddenly turned ghastly.

"What's wrong?" she said tilting her head to the side, still munching, happily.

"MacTavish'll do what now?" a strong, Scottish accented voice boomed behind her out of the blue.

Bree froze, mid chew and turned slowly to face her Captain who 6'3 frame now loomed over her.

He looked at her stunned, cookie crumbed face and had to fight to maintain all seriousness.

"Um...n-nothing. Sir!" she said, quickly saluting him and darted for the door.

As Bree left the kitchen, John turned to Louis with a surprisingly goofy smile plastered on his face. Although he was now Captain, John always maintained his sense of humour in the craziest of situations.

"How long before you tell her you knew about the cookies all along?" Louis asked, beginning to chuckle.

"Ah, can't tell a lass everything now can I" he said pointedly, laughing along with the cook. "By the way, got any more?"

The next morning came as fast as the night fell the day before. Everyone was up at sunrise to begin their testing for the Taskforce 141. As the sun made its grand appearance on the horizon and began to warm their skin, the soldiers were all lined up along the starting point of an obstacle course.

Lt. Simon "Ghost" Riley dealt out orders like his life depended on it, who knows maybe it did.

Cpt. MacTavish stood quietly by the sidelines, simply observing their activities. Bree stood in the line up too. There were the selected and those who were invited to tag along, she happened to be one of those.

Her bunk buddy Pvt. Shara Davidson said she was out of her mind to even think about going to try out for the special force.

'You know it's just going to be one big sausage fest, right?' Those were her exact words.

'Every part of the regiment is not opened to us girls, you know. They might not say it out loud but it's obvious'

Bree ignored her completely. In this world of men, she was on her own mission for her redemption and she had her reasons for wanting to prove her worth.

Two by two the soldiers were made to run the complex course in a matter of seconds, testing their individual skills, endurance and of course speed.

Other S.A.S officials observed along with Cpt. MacTavish as they scribbled fiercely on their clipboards. Finally it was Bree and her partner's turn who, unfortunately, happened to be the team Jock/Asshole a.k.a Sgt. Jeremy Bellsmythe.

As they were about to be lined up along the starting point, Jeremy gave Bree the once over and scoffed rudely.

"What's a snivelling bitch like you doing here, trying to do a man's job I see" he grunted "You're even lucky you made it into the S.A.S, somehow, but we all know that you fe-males don't serve in the special forces, unless you're butch" he said as he slapped her shoulder hard and looked at her arse.

A few of his 'followers' snickered. "From the looks of it you are far from that aren't you, Bree." She glared threateningly at him and was about to speak up when…

"That's enough Sergeant", Cpt. MacTavish said stepping up to the pair, then looking sternly at Jeremy.

"Yes, Captain, Sir" the Sergeant whimpered, he knew better than to mess with that guy.

Bree turn her head away from the Captain's slightly concerned filled stare to hide her obvious embarrassment.

Was this really a good idea? she thought, sighing inwardly. Being rescued by him was so not on her agenda.

Soap cleared his throat. "Carry on." He said to Ghost with a nod.

A whistle was blown and off they went. Jumping hurdles, swinging on ropes and climbing ladders. With weapons in tow, they both shot every target with surprising accuracy.

Bree enjoyed every moment of it, she even surprised herself. Today seemed to be a good day after all.

Jeremy however was clearly still miffed about the incident, there was no way in hell he was going to be shown up by a woman. A blind corner was up ahead, there no one would see his ill intent. Now was his chance.

As they approached their final set, Jeremy stopped at the base of the large wooden structure they had to scale. This one required a boost.

Bree ran up behind him shortly after and noticed that he had stopped.

"What's wrong?" she asked with genuine concern.

Jeremy turn and smiled deceitfully "Seems like you need a boost, ladies first right?" he said and got in position.

"Um... sure, thanks" she said. Bree stepped up to Jeremy and placed her hand on his shoulder then leapt.

Aww, she's like a little puppy he thought.

Instead of feeling a push under her foot, she felt a heavy hand land on her shoulder and yanked her backward, slamming her entire body into the ground.

Pain shot through her as Jeremy looked down at her, she stared at him in disbelief. An evil smile was plastered onto his sweaty face.

"Better luck next time, bitch" he muttered and scaled the wooden wall with ease.

Bree coughed and staggered to her feet, a few seconds later. A few seconds too late. She would never make it.

Ever persistent, she got to her feet and finished the course, a full minute behind. As she ran past the finish line, she glared at Jeremy as he pounded fists with his followers. He obviously made the team.

Cpt. MacTavish then approached her, clipboard in hand. She already knew what he had to say.

"I'm sorry Bree, bu-", he started

"It's fine" she cut him off before taking off in a sprint towards the barracks.

John blinked, slightly thrown aback.

"Pvt. Collins, stop at once." Ghost called behind her. John sighed and held up his hand towards him as he watched Bree go.

"Leave her be."

Immediately on entrance to the living quarters Bree began to throw her belongings into the duffel bag she kept under the bunk she shared with Shara. She was happy that she had the room to herself, Lord knows she was not up for the questions regarding the tryouts.

Hot tears of rage poured down her face as her mind raced at a million hertz per second, she was sick and tired of being pushed into the dog house by these men.

She had been through the darkness as a teenager and she was determined to regain her power. Becoming an S.A.S member had been her first step towards the light but Jeremy's stupid actions had pushed her over the edge.

If I can't beat them, I'll join them.. she thought angrily. This war ran deep and this meant new name, new person, new life.

The morning after...

Cpt. John MacTavish stepped into his office at exactly 9am. He had a ton of paper work to complete regarding their next mission which was to locate some Prisoner 627, who ever that was.

He walked over to his desk and sat on the edge, taking a moment to enjoy the view of the well manicured S.A.S grounds. There was a knock at his door and a young Sergeant walked in with an envelope in hand.

"She left last night, Sir" the Sgt. said

"Who?" John said, raising an eyebrow.

"Pvt. Bree Collins, Sir"

"And what is this?" he asked, mind reeling.

"Her resignation."