Following the events of "Turbulence":

"Yuri," Soap said, rising from a crate. "On your feet."

Yuri set aside his weapon.

Soap, Yuri, Price, and Nikolai were sailing to their destination on a short, wide fishing boat they'd chosen to covertly enter Sierra Leone. Otherwise, it would be impossible to get to Makarov's shipments, the contents of which were still a mystery.

After dropping Soap, Price, and Yuri off on land, Nikolai would take the boat and sail it a safe distance away. When coast was clear, the Russian pilot would ditch the boat and make his way around a nearby island until he reached the stashed evac chopper.

"What am I doing?" Yuri asked Soap, rising from his own crate.

"We are going to spar," Soap replied, setting aside his weapons and the two bags that contained their gear.

Yuri shrugged, setting aside his knife and his sidearm.

Soap took a step back and flexed his muscles. He had spent the forty-nine days since their escape from India recuperating. There were still chest pains of course, but Soap was used to war wounds and could fight through the pain and discomfort.

Soap sized Yuri up as the Russian slowly stepped forward.

Price observed from atop a crate off to the side, holstering his pistol as he took out a cigar. This should be interesting.

Yuri and Soap walked to the middle of the boat. After exchanging respectful nods, they started trading jabs. It was clear that the two soldiers were evenly matched even though they were both holding back. After thirty seconds of trading jabs, crosses, and hooks, the two men separated.

Nikolai exited the cockpit and sat down next to Price. "What's going on?"

"Soap's testing the new guy," Price grunted, lowering his cigar.

Soap batted aside another jab.

"You're good," Soap admitted, taking a half step back. He barely batted aside another three jabs. "Quick. Precise."

Soap blocked another cross from Yuri but was unable to block Yuri's follow-up punch to his lower stomach.

Soap took the blow and backed up. "Effective," he complimented. "You fight like a man who's taken many beatings and learned from them."

Once again, Yuri made no reply.

"You're a loner," Soap added.

Yuri tensed for a split second before he started throwing in kicks with his punches.

"But you weren't always a loner," Soap guessed, noticing the increased aggression.

The two soldiers continued to spar.

Price looked at Nikolai. "How much do you know about Yuri?" he asked the Russian quietly.

"Not much," Nikolai said with a shrug. "I heard he came to Himachal Pradesh about a month and a half before war. A group of Ultranationalists showed up some time later and started shooting villagers. Yuri saved a lot of lives. But he's never discussed his past."

"Why we're the Ultranationalists there?" Price asked.

"There was no one left alive to ask."

Price lowered his cigar. "Anything else?" he pressed as they neared the shore.

"He has never given me reason to distrust him," Nikolai answered carefully.

The two soldiers were sparring faster than ever. Although they weren't aiming to hurt, each man grunted when the other's fists or feet hit their marks.

Soap caught another kick and pushed Yuri back. Yuri took a step back and assumed a defensive fighting position. Soap backed up a few steps towards a crate.

"Soap," Price called. "Finish up. We move in five."

Soap looked toward the front of the boat and saw their destination in sight. He looked down at the crate in front of him. There were a few bladeless harpoon staffs leaning up against a box of supplies.

"Right," Soap said as Yuri relaxed his stance. "One last thing."

Soap grabbed the long staff and charged Yuri, swinging horizontally. Yuri ducked under the swing with a centimeter to spare.

Soap repositioned the improvised weapon in his hands and lunged forward with the staff like a spear. Yuri brought his hands up in an 'X', blocking the staff upward before quickly grabbing the end, tugging it down to his right leg, and stomping down on the weapon, breaking it in half.

Yuri quickly grabbed Soap's arms and jumped up, kicking him in chest with both feet before both soldiers fell to the ground.

Price lowered his cigar in surprise.

Nikolai moved forward to separate the fighters when Soap started laughing as he sat up.

"And he's resourceful," Soap said, rising to his feet, holding his chest for a moment. He walked over to Yuri and extended his hand. "You'll do, Yuri."

Yuri took Soap's hand and got to his feet.

"Yuri," Nikolai said as they drew closer to the shore. "Can I have hand? We at least have to look part of fishermen."

Yuri grabbed his gear and moved to the other end of the boat to assist Nikolai.

Soap sat next to Price.

The older soldier continued to smoke his cigar.

"What do you think?" Soap asked.

Price lowered his cigar again. "I think…" It's been a while since I haven't been able to answer that question. This whole thing with Yuri is… uneasy. Price turned to Soap. "I think that you're too trusting."

"That's the difference between you and me," Soap said, grabbing a cigar of his own. "I trust too much. And you trust too little."

Price grunted "I would have thought that after Shepherd—"

"I know what trust Shepherd cost," Soap growled. "Believe me."

Price took a deep breath. "I do believe you," he said firmly. "And I've never blamed you for Shepherd. I was the one that approached him years ago when we created the One-Four-One."

"We're short on allies, Price," Soap said calmly. "We couldn't have escaped Himachal Pradesh without Yuri. And he has a hell of a lot more intel on Makarov than we do."

"We don't have a choice," Price admitted. "That doesn't mean we should trust him."

Soap shook his head and stood. "One day, you're going to have to go against your nature, Price."

"I can't," Price said firmly.

"We'll find out eventually," Soap replied, tossing Price one of the bags with their gear. "And I hope I'm there to see it."