A/N: I am so sorry about the wait. :( And, wow, am I special. ...Kinda sorta forgot about the a between the M and the c...

I guess I should give a quick heads up right now. The first few chapters will be somewhat of a recap of what happened in the game. The plot (lol wat? There's a plot in an M rated fanfic? You bet your ass... kinda. XD) will move forward after that but I gotta cover whatever I have to cover. So sorry if it is a little slow at first.

Chapter 2

Soap was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief once Roach was finally able to get in the helicopter. "You okay, Roach?" The lower ranking soldier nodded his head frantically. Meanwhile, he was gasping for breath. Soap couldn't help but smile happily. The man got out of there on his own. It was good work.

"Captain, we will be speaking to Shepherd in 90 seconds." Scarecrow alerted him. Soap simply raised his hand and nodded his head, acknowledging him.

At the same time, he stared out at the scenery outside the helicopter. The air that blew in from the open doors smelled differently and it felt a little cooler. He rubbed his forearms and stared at his men with a curious expression. "Sir, we're online."

"Captain MacTavish, how did the mission go?" Shepherd's voice came from the laptop one of his men held.

Hearing a growl, Soap's attention was turned to Ghost. "The Favela fucking sucked! This better have been damn well worth it! Where the hell did those people get all of that sh-" But he could not finish coherently since Soap reached out and covered where Ghost's mouth would be with his hand. Sure, the baklava made it less effective but it still did the job.

"I'm sorry, Sir, he-"

"Great enthusiasm, men. Now let's bring that energy to the next mission." There were a few beeps coming from his side. Shepherd cleared his throat before speaking again. "Get some rest, men. You have another busy day tomorrow. If you'll excuse me, I need to speak to our forces in the U.S."

"Of course." Soap nodded, even though Shepherd was currently just a voice. Their connection was stopped and everything was quiet again. After a few minutes, MacTavish turned to the pilot. "So, where are we heading to?"

"There's a safehouse in Columbia that we will be staying at until tomorrow morning. The higher ups filled it up with all those fancy accommodations so who am I to complain?" The man chuckled. Soap smirked with him. Of course he agreed with the other man. Today was hell. Hell probably was more enjoyable than today.

Once they arrived at the safehouse, the men dispursed, looking at every inch of the place that looked much more like a house than their regular safehouses. "This place is nice." Ghost smiled, taking off his goggles.

"Try not to destroy it." Soap started removing all of his gear and the other men followed his actions. He turned his head over to Roach who was laughing at how happy Ghost was now.

Ghost chuckled loudly. "Trust me, I only have one intention." He ran into the kitchen and Roach quickly followed. By the time Soap was finished and wore nothing but his clothes and a handgun, everyone had hurried to scavenge whatever was in the fridge and cupboards. He made his way over there as well. His group was devouring whatever they could find. Soap couldn't help but sigh. "Save some for me, will you guys?"

"Like Spaghettios, Captain?" Worm held out a can. "It's the kind with the hot dogs and meatballs. If you don't want them, I call it."

Soap cocked an eyebrow. "...What in the world are Spaghettios?"

"Oh come on, they don't even have the kind with lamb chunks where you come from?" Archer laughed, sitting in a chair with his legs propped up on the table. Soap walked past his and pulled backwards on his shoulder. The man came falling down on his back. All of his comrades laughed at him but Archer laughed along. "Okay, I deserved that."

"It's mostly just canned foods here, Captain." Roach seemed to be deciding between a can of raveoli or chicken noodle soup. "But there's a lot of it..."

Soap stepped past Roach and snatched the can of soup out of his hand. "Works for me. Food's food." He paused to look around. "Where the bloody hell's a can opener?"

"Gonna have to wait," Ghost drank soup out of a can. "It's going around. You'd have figured they'd give us more than one for a small army of hungry men." MacTavish rolled his eyes and pulled a switchblade out of his back pocket. It was a bit medieval but who cared?

The men barely saved enough food for the following morning. As things calmed down, they all came together into a casual conversation. It was nice, being able to relax like this, Soap thought. Minutes past by and Soap noticed his shoulders sagging. "I'm heading off to bed. Be ready bright and early tomorrow morning." He waved once as he left the room.

The living room was lined with mattresses, pillows and blankets. Soap figured they would have enjoyed sleeping on actual beds, since the house had a few bedrooms with multiple beds in them. Instead, they tore the rooms apart to sleep together. Cute... Soap was just glad he wasn't the one cleaning this place up. He made his way to a room twenty feet from the living room. Maybe he'd make sure they would clean everything up, just to be nice. Soap peeked in the room, making sure the room still had a functional bed in it. Luckily, they left him one. How kind of them...

Soap stripped off his shirt and heavy pants and climbed into the bed, closing his eyes to ignore the setting sun peeking through the curtains in the room. He would later wonder if it even took him minutes to drift into unconsciousness.

The next morning, Ghost running around with pots and pans was not really the best wake up call to start Soap's day off well.

They had just ended their transmission with Shepherd after escaping the oilrigs. It seemed like all they ever did these days was travel around in a helicopter. They were dropped off somewhere, picked up, dropped off and picked up. It was getting a little redundant.

Soon, they approached the Russian castle and, as usual, were thrown into the situation. He, Ghost and Roach all sat on the outside of the helicopter, which meant they got to be the ones sniping the guards that stood on the wall of the castle. Once they landed, the crew rushed out. Holding his gun firmly to his shoulder, MacTavish took out every enemy he saw.

The group had to fight through floors that led underground and countless amounts of troops trying to protect whatever they were after. It was exhausting, having to fight continuously with no break. Soap fought as hard as he could. All he wanted was to get this prisoner and get out. Captain MacTavish could not help but think about why the man was so important to Makarov. What kind of intel did he carry? What exactly did Prisoner 627 have?

The sudden attack knocked Soap back to reality while they hit the locker room. "Stay on the sides!" He yelled to his men. They were so close... Finally, as he dropped through the hole in the floor, he breathed a sigh of relief. Prisoner 627 must really be an ace in the hole. He was so heavily guarded and-

"I'm detecting two heat signatures. One of them should be Prisoner 627." Soap remained serious as they arrived at their goal. They would grab the man and go. It would all go according to plan.

Or so he thought. They breached through the wall and were met with one of the men using the other as a body shield. Roach fired, trying to stop the man coming towards him. He failed and the man's fist met Roach's face. Both the body shield and Roach were on the ground. MacTavish jumped forward as he saw the older man grab Roach's gun and point it straight at him.

"Drop it!" He held his gun inches from the back of the man's head.

"Soap?"

MacTavish's blood ran cold. "Price?" The older man glanced back at him and Soap's heart began to skip beats. Captain Price... He looked exhausted and worn out. There were dark bags under his eyes and the well groomed mustache now took the form of an unkept beard. "This belongs to you, Sir." Without another moment of hesitation, he handed the man his gun.