Death... A man of his station encountered death countless times. He was the one who saw his comrades dying beside him after every mission, he was the one who had caused so much death on the battlefield... This was the life of a soldier, and definitely the life of the field commander of the elite Task Force 141, but Soap had not imagined to see the death one so close to him. In his arms was Ryuka, her body getting colder and colder by the passing second. "Captain," she smiled, reaching her hand out to cup his face. "Do not fret, for I shall have no regrets; I have walked the path that belonged to my ancestors..." That was his Ryuka, always speaking as though she came from a medieval novel or something like that... Her blood was seeping into his clothes, staining his very body with the red liquid as he held onto her for dear life.

"Don't go," he murmured into her red hair, cradling her limp body. He knew that he should have said it sooner, but he loved her, more than he could have ever imagined. Those nights that they had spent together, those nights filled with utter passion and ecstasy, they had not meant to serve only the basest of their desires. Between them was a wild spark of attraction, but there was also something more. He cared for her deeply, the youngest in their team for a long time before Roach came in, and the only woman actively serving in the field. Ryuka held a spark in her that he could never find in another woman, leaving him hungrier and hungrier for more the more he encountered her. Her smile, her laughter, even the way she fought, it just made him feel as though he was still a hormonal teenager, and not an elite soldier...

Ryuka looked into his blue eyes and shook her head. "All things have an end, John," she told him, the very mention of his name was a declaration of love in its own right. "One day, you will die as well, and I would be waiting for you, either in hell or in heaven." With that, she slowly brushed her lips against his for a kiss that he readily granted, hoping that she would not leave him. Slowly, she kissed him once more as he told her again and again that he loved her, but even he could not stop death from coming. As the moments passed, Ryuka grew weaker, and paler. They were both in a puddle of her blood, and he knew that in any moment, she would close her fiery black eyes and never open them again. "I love you..." she whispered, slightly squeezing his hand that held hers so tightly.

A gunshot could be heard. Right before her eyes, Ryuka had been shot a second time... Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, and she struggled to speak before her heart stopped beating... His only consolation, was that she managed to close her dark eyes, a silent gesture that told him that she was in peace... But he was not. Looking straight ahead, he could see the man that shot her. He was standing tall and erect, with smoke still rising from the Desert Eagle in his hands. "How sentimental," the man said, keeping the pistol into a holster. "I never thought that the two of you would ever be together, but frankly, she knew too much..."

Shepherd... This man had taken everything away from him. His freedom, his brothers, and the woman he loved. Setting Ryuka's dead body down with utmost reverence, Soap took the only weapon on him, a combat knife and stabbed the man... But why, why was he feeling the pain instead? As the traitor laid dying, white light engulfed his vision, and soon, he began to hear voices...

"Soap, you're gonna be okay!" was that Price? It sounded like Price... "Just hang in for a second..."

"Ryuka..." he called, throbbing pain coursing throughout his body. She was alive... He remembered now. She was ordered to remain in the capitol city of Tajikistan, the rendezvous point for when the Task Force 141 would succeed in taking Makarov down in two fronts...

"Reddie's alright, Soap," Price replied, "Shepherd didn't get to her."


Ghost had requested that he took Roach to search Makarov's safehouse in the Caucasus Mountains, while Price told the team that he and Soap would head towards the Afghan boneyard to search for Makarov. "And what about me, gentlemen?" Ryuka asked the men around her, demanding an answer. "Am I to house-sit the sub when you are all away?"

One mistake that could not be done, was to leave Ryuka out of the action, especially at a time like that. "Reddie, you will head to Tajikistan," Price told her, knowing that even Soap would not be able to calm her down. He knew her father, and watched her blossom under the Japanese military, and no one could talk some sense into her if not him. "We'll rendezvous in Dushanbe once we're done with all this Makarov crap." There was a fatherly hand on her shoulder, and yet, she looked at Soap with a vehemence that Price had never seen before.

"This order did not come from you or Shepherd, Captain," she told Price, assuming her "formal" voice. "It came from Mactavish..." Soap said nothing, and only looked into her black eyes, as though holding her in a silent conversation. "You deploy the entire 141 without me... What if anything happens in both fronts? What if all of you do not come back? Am I to wait for you there until I know that you are dead and gone?" It was a difficult time for them, it was true, but it was utterly paramount. America depended on them, and hence, the peace of the world. Ryuka came from a whole family of soldiers, and she knew the dangers of being one, but not to be beside her comrades, it was too much for her to bear. Soap knew this, and he deliberately excluded her from these two missions.

Roach walked up to her, and told her, "Look, Reddie, we're all gonna be fine." The FNG was smiling, while Ghost messed up the top of her hair, which she had left down. "If we don't get back in time, you'd have to kick our asses, and we sure as hell wouldn't want that to happen." Listening to his words, Ryuka could not help but to fall into a small smile as well. "See, was that so bad?"

As the men left to prepare for their missions, Soap left behind to hold Ryuka in his arms. As always, she was more adept in words, but he, he knew that this was the best way to show her how he had felt as well. "Bastard," she cursed at him as she returned his embrace. "Do you think that by placing me in Dushanbe, I would be safe?" A stray tear fell from her eye and dropped onto the sleeve of his uniform. This man... he knew that she was highly independent, that she needed no protection, and yet he would choose such a course of action, and for what?

"At least, you would be safer there than anywhere we know," he told her. Tajikistan would be a place that Makarov would not even think to look... "If anything happened to you, I wouldn't be able to forgive myself, Ryuka," He had been a caring leader, who never stopped thinking about the safety of his teammates, but Ryuka, her place in his heart could not be replaced by any amount of comradeship. From the very first time they had met, up until now, he could never explain how he felt towards her, that spark of carnal desire that was now something highly different...

"Do you not think that I would not feel the same?" she asked him. Her question was answered by a kiss, one that was bittersweet, unlike what they had experienced many times before. It seemed like the Captain was not going to change his mind. "Be careful, John," she whispered as he moved to kiss the arch of her neck before they pulled away from one another.

Not two hours later, the Task Force 141 split up three ways, half to the Caucasus Mountains, Price and Soap to Afghanistan, and Ryuka to Dushanbe. "Take care," she told all of them and hugged them before they left in their respective transports. Nickolai, the Russian informant and the man who had run many missions with Soap and Price, was no exception as well. "I want them back in one piece, Nickolai," she told him.

"Da, not to worry, Reddie," Nickolai replied, "I will make sure the old man and the captain reaches Tajikistan for you to use them as target practice."

Ryuka chuckled, and nodded. There was no more time left, and they saluted one another before they went into their respective transports. She did not look back towards Nickolai's Pave Low, and in looked forwards to her destination, where she would be posing as an American volunteer in one of the larger orphanages in Dushanbe.


"In today's news, two former SAS combatants have been declared on the US Most Wanted List, overtaking Russian Ultranationalist extremist, Vladimir Makarov. The two captains. John Price and John Mactavish have orchestrated and executed the assassination of one General Shepherd, who had been responsible for all US defense forces after the Russian invasion. John Price is also wanted for launching a nuclear missile into the atmosphere that destroyed the International Space Station, creating an EMP that destroyed all communications in the Washigton DC area as an act of terror."

Ryuka was not sure if she was able to continue listening to that news broadcast... While she was in Dushanbe, she continued receiving comm. feeds from both Makarov's safehouse and the boneyard where Price and Soap had been, and she had known that Shepherd had betrayed them all, by taking the DSM containing all of Makarov's plans from Ghost and Roach and killing them, as well as the rest of the Task Force 141, who were all denounced as traitors... And now that Shepherd was dead, and Price and Soap nowhere to be found, things got even worse for her. However, even with no place to go, or no idea whether or not they had survived the ordeal, she knew that she had to lie low, and most of all, her cover could not be blown.

"You seem to be very interested in the happenings of the US army," the head of the orphanage said to Ryuka, who caught her listening to the only English radio channel in broadcast. He was an elderly Scotsman, his accent similar to that of Soap's, in a general sort of way. "Don't tell me, you have someone special fighting in Afghanistan?"

Casting down her eyes, Ryuka nodded her head. "He is, sir, and I fear for him," she answered, turning the radio off. If she listened anymore, she was sure that she would burst into tears immediately. Ever since 911 happened, there had been no shortage of American soldiers in the Middle East, be it in Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan, Pakistan... the list was endless. "Perhaps, that's why I came here... He's luckier you know, that he's not fighting the Russians right now."

"Ah, yes, that young Russian chap," the other man replied. "Ruthless lad, he is... But we've all waited for so many years knowing that this day would come, it's bound to happen someday." War must always come before peace, and that was the belief of Ryuka's family. Her own ancestor had torn down an era that lasted three hundred years with her own katana, and now, she was actively participating in a war that would start WWIII...

"Mr. Carlson, I thank you, for taking the time out to talk with me," she thanked him. Even if the man was led to think that Soap was an American soldier, they were still on the same topic, after all. "You must be very, very busy."

Mr. Carlson shook his head and took her hands in his. "My dear, I have not thanked you enough for helping us out thus far... These two days have been exceptionally hard, what with the US and Russia having a war between them," he told Ryuka, reminding her that she had came with supplies and even books and toys for the children. "At least, the children have something to smile about, even in those kenjutsu classes you've been giving them."

It was Ryuka's turn to smile, and that she did, although it had been one that was forced. A woman had to defend herself at those parts, particularly if she came alone, and was not of the Muslim faith. Her other weapons had been carefully concealed amongst her other things, but her katana, it was part of who she was, so she laid it out in the open. Mr. Carlson was right though, the children were indeed rather happy when she decided to teach them a few moves with what long sticks and short broom-handles they could find. "Well, perhaps we could put in another practice session?" she asked, taking the radio in, along with her katana.

At least, she would have something to take her mind off her troubles, for just a little while.