Again, Infinity Ward owns Call of Duty Modern Warfare one and Two…obviously.

Adrian belongs to me. And the plot.

"Price...wake up!" Adrian muttered, shaking the captain awake. Price muttered a long string of elaborate swear words as his peaceful sleep was interrupted.

"What the bloody hell you want?" he grumbled, turning away from Adrian.

"Nikolai and I are heading to the city to get supplies. Stay up and guard the safe house." Adrian muttered, handing Price his M1911 as he sat up groggily. Price bent down and grabbed his hat off of the floor and watched as Adrian's back disappeared up the tunnel entrance. He sighed as he sat in a chair, spotting MacTavish in a nearby cot, not as pale as the night before, but bandages wrapped around his chest held small spots of blood. He looked at his casted arm and sighed, knowing it would be near impossible to try to change the bandages, it was better to wait for Adrian and Nikolai to return.

Price instead turned the TV on, getting a little surprise when he saw himself and MacTavish staring at him with a Russian female newscaster voiced over in English, surprisingly.

"Captains John Price and John "Soap" MacTavish of the disbanded Task Force 141 are armed and extremely dangerous. If you have any information contact your police tip line immediately."

"Heh, haven't we become popular?"

"Hey Soap, how you feeling'?" Price asked, turning to face his mohawked comrade.

"I feel like shit."

"Anyone would after...falling over a waterfall, getting your head bashed in and stabbed in the chest...come to think of it, normal people would be dead." Price listed, grabbing a water bottle and handing it to MacTavish who drank most of it quickly.

"We are the Task Force 141, able to scale icy mountains, infiltrate enemy bases, hunt down two criminals with militia breathing down our necks, save hostages and break a HVI out of a maximum security prison. Not to mention former members of the SAS. Nothing normal ever comes out of that." MacTavish joked. Price chuckled, remembering the crazy antics that they had endured.

"Like when Griggs had Gaz so drunk that he ended up going to a male strip club?"

"Holy crap, forgot about that...reminds me of when Meat took Roach and Ghost to a bar and got the three of them so smashed they ended up in Japan…while we were in Australia."

"How the bloody hell they managed that?"

"No clue, not even eye witnesses."

"Holy crap…"

"Hey, where's Nikolai?" MacTavish asked after realizing he was missing.

"He went with Adrian to get more supplies." Price replied.

"Who's Adrian?" MacTavish questioned wearily.

"One of Nikolai's buddies, helped stitch you up." Price answered, staring at the TV as his and MacTavish's faces reappeared.

"Oh...where are we?"

"Bloody hell Soap, what's with all the questions?" Price turned exasperated to his comrade.

"I want to know! I hate not knowing!" MacTavish replied, mimicking Price.

"From what I saw, we're in the desert." Price replied, lifting his casted arm onto his lap as he leaned his chair back on the back two legs.

"Wait, when'd your arm break?" MacTavish stared at the cast as if it were another head.

"Shepherd got me, bloody hell Soap I had this arm in a sling on the Pave Low!" Price stared back as equally abnormal.

"Excuse me if I was unconscious from blood loss." MacTavish shot at him.

"Bloody hell is your fault! You had to play hero and went after Shepherd yourself!"

"At least he's dead!"

"AFTER he stabbed you!"

"At least I wasn't beat shitless! You almost died!"

"You almost died too!"

"That bastard got what he deserved! He personally killed my team! I already lost one to some maniacal jackass, but two teams? Do you know how infuriating that is?" MacTavish yelled. Price blinked, surprised at the outburst. MacTavish also blinked before turning over and facing the wall mutely, bracing against a wave a pain from his chest. Silence followed awkwardly, settling over them like a fog. Price's gaze went down, the brim of his hat covering his eyes.

"Soap, I'm sor-"

A loud bang interrupted him. MacTavish sat up quickly, ignoring pain as his bandages grew red faster. Price grabbed his M1911 and tossed MacTavish a USP .45, both aimed at the door.

"My friends! We must leave now!" Nikolai came barging in, quickly scooping up whatever he could and running out, almost crushing small Adrian as he ran out.

"What's going on?" MacTavish asked quickly.

"Shadow Company is heading this way! The Pave Low is ready to go!" Adrian replied as he left himself with an armful of supplies, Nikolai pressing himself against the wall to get out of the way before motioning to Price.

"Help me move him Price!"

MacTavish grumbled something as the two helped him up the stairs, Arian passing to gather the rest of whatever they needed. Price struggled a bit as he only had one good arm; something that almost had them topple when Adrian rushed passed them to the top. When they got outside, the Pave Low sat waiting, its blades kicking up dirt and sand. Nikolai moved MacTavish to the copilot's seat, Price and Adrian taking the two turret guns.

"We will need to change those bandages when we land." Nikolai said as he glanced at the now very red bandages around MacTavish's chest.

"Let's get out of here first then worry about that." MacTavish growled. Nikolai complied as he took off.

"We've got company! Three armored vehicles and twenty foot mobiles approaching from the southwest!" Adrian announced. Price also spotted them and what they were holding scared him near shitless.

"AT4!" he yelled. Up front, MacTavish went paler.

"DON'T JUST SIT THERE! SHOOT THEM!" he yelled. Bullets from the armored vehicles started to bombard them. Both Adrian and Price started their attack, firing the two turret guns at the advancing enemy, Price somewhat handicapped with only one arm. Nikolai managed to let them get the best shot angles without getting hit from a misguided flare set off from the guided rockets.

"Can't we go any faster?" MacTavish asked, watching the scenery change from desert to forest slowly. Nikolai shook his head in reply as Adrian called "All tangos down!"

"I guess its fi-i- FAST MOVERS!" MacTavish stared as three harriers flew with high speeds towards the nearly defenseless Pave Low. Nikolai turned back to Adrian and Price.

"Get ready to fire on those Harriers! Strap down!" he said. Price gave a confused look as he did so, Adrian understanding immediately. MacTavish looked at Nikolai as he tried to understand what he planned to do. Without warning, Nikolai spun the Pave Low, Adrian firing and Price following suit afterwards. Somehow the bullet spray managed to hit crucial points on the three planes, as they all exploded and fell back to the ground in a fiery ball of twisted metal.

MacTavish watched, then sighed as he sank back into his seat, an unknown adrenaline rush wearing off.

"Wasn't that an adventure..." he muttered as he closed his eyes. Price shot a worried look at Adrian.

"Think you could look him over now?" he asked.

"We have to wait until we're on stable ground." Adrian replied. "He should be fine until then."

Nikolai overheard but didn't say anything, taking a small glance to the side at MacTavish. To see him so exhausted and nearly broken was a sight that Nikolai thought he would never see in this or any lifetime, and it worried him. But he knew Price was worrying a lot more than he was showing, which was a lot seeing as how anxious he had become. Price had his head leaned against the seat, his casted arm in his lap as his good arm laid next to him, his fingers drumming the seat quickly.

"Nikolai, how much further?" he snapped.

"Ten minutes my friend." Nikolai replied smoothly despite Price's anger. He continued to drum his fingers, tempo increasing dramatically as he continued.

Price kept thinking about MacTavish's outburst back at the safe house. He knew he was considered KIA after he had been rescued and met with Shepherd. But MacTavish had to lose two close teams within the span of five years, something you never ask of any solider, no matter how battle toughened they are. Before, MacTavish was the FNG with the crazy ass name, now he is, or rather was, the captain of Task Force 141.

"We are here my friends." Nikolai said, snapping Price out of his thoughts, the blades of the Pave Low slowing down.

Reverse Psychology in Progress

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