Roach could not believe it. That man with MacTavish and Price over there, he told them that they would clear all their names if they would fight in the American counter-invasion on Moscow. That would tip the scales in their favor more than they could ever imagine, from six guys with suicide intent against the fury of a great nation, they had become six guys with suicide intent with and against the fury of two great nations, America and Russia respectively.

"We'll do it," they chorused even before the two Captains managed to say anything, effectively sealing the deal. It was important that no one got them wrong, they had nothing to do against Russia. It was just that most of them had spent the last few years in the 141, carrying out missions all around the world, for the sole purpose of removing the terrorist threats of the Ultranationalists. Well, now that it was out in the open that Makarov's terrorist attacks were all done under the Ultranationalist, banner, they might as well take down Ultranationalist Russia as well.

Codename Raptor looked at all of them and nodded. "Good to have you all," he told them, "And of course, we welcome any Loyalist help as well." America, the UK and the Loyalists had fought side by side five years ago, and they would never forget the old alliances that they had forged, more than the enemies that they had made.

"We would be honored, Raptor," Kamarov replied. In truth, he knew that his own forces would be too miniscule against the Ultranationalists if they had fought alone. Now when the Ultranationalists were the rulers, they had become the so-called terrorists in the eyes of their own countryman. At first, he thought it had been but a small price to pay, but he could see clearly that they were not going anywhere at all. Even if they were practically welcoming the Americans into their own base, and he knew that they would not receive anything else in return except a share of the loss, the pain and the blood, it would be worth it, seeing that their previous efforts would not be wasted.

It was decided then and there, that the Loyalist base would temporarily house whatever American forces that would to Russia. They would be moved from various countries bordering Russia, all too small to dare to enrage America further than Russia already had. Afghanistan, Kazakhstan, Georgia and even China…

"And now, we must think of a way to defend this base as best we can," Price concluded, looking at the maps all around them. Not too long ago, Anya had told them that Makarov had been aware of the base's location, even the Loyalist spies within the Ultranationalists, but he had not given them two hoots due to their non-threatening nature. However, that did not mean that he would not act now. The man had deceived the world for almost a decade; his movements could never be seen or read unless he revealed them. Nevertheless, Price was not Makarov's prisoner for five years for nothing. From the few times he had seen Makarov, and whatever dealings they had the previous week, he could more or less try to guess what Makarov would do next.

Makarov looked at the map laid out before him. About a week ago, the Russian Army had failed to retrieve codename Raptor, the man who has ties with the CIA, and now that the man was free to roam through the ranks of the US top government agencies, and liaise with its Armed Forces, he knew that there was only one thing that he would do. He would seek out the Task Force 141, and recruit them to aid the American armies.

His brushes with the Task Force 141 was not limited to Anya's failed infiltration, their hunt of Alejandro Rojas, and whatever transpired in Petropavlosk, as well as the raid upon his safehouse, and the confrontation between his Spetsnaz, Anya, Price and MacTavish in the Boneyard. For the past five years, the Task Force 141 had shadowed his footsteps, although he had not known who they were in the first place… All of them had been highly trained, and were highly specialized in whatever form they had chose to take. Anya was a great personification of this, a talented sniper despite her age.

And how could he not forget Price and MacTavish? The Task Force 141 seemed to favor their marksmen, for the two Captains, they were extremely proficient in this field as well. Price, he had been the sniper who took Zakhaev's arm, while MacTavish had killed Zakhaev himself. Both men, they were leaders who would command unusual amounts of respect from their subordinates, and he knew that they would not let him just trample over the American forces so easily.

And then, there was Sergeant Kamarov as well. Funnily enough, their last names were anagrams to one another, but there was where similarities between them ended. Kamarov, he might have been able to plant spies into the Ultranationalists, but there had been hardly any subtleties in his part. However, he had to commend that man for being able to persevere for so long, that he still carried hope that one day, the Loyalists would once again triumph in Russia. It was a fool's hope, but still, it was hope, nonetheless.

Alone, they did not pose a great threat at all, but when combined, he knew that the effects were disastrous. And, if his own Intel was to be trusted at all, Codename Raptor was in Russia already, his intentions clearer than ever. It was a no-brainer that he would try to gather the Task Force 141 back into the American armed forces… And given their previous relationships with the Loyalists, there was no doubt that they would follow the 141 as well, providing them with a base of operations.

"General Makarov, you have a call from the President, sir," said a soldier to him after knocking briefly on the door to his office. "He wants to know what your first course of action is."

General… no one had ever called him that before. But it was just as well… There had to be a start for everything, Pushing a key on his keyboard, the image of Boris Vorshevsky's face appeared upon his computer screen, and he was ready to talk to his old friend. "Boris, aren't we anxious this morning?" he asked, rather sarcastically.

"We received Intel that the Task Force 141 received full pardon from the United States, Vladimir," Boris told him directly, knowing that Makarov had no patience for pleasantries, due to the mere fact that they had been friends and comrades for a long, long time already. "What are you planning to do with that?"

As always, Makarov gave a simple, straight answer. "We burn the Loyalist base to the ground," he said simple, taking a sip of coffee, as if what he was planning was the simplest thing in the world. "I have information that the American army is using their base near the Caucasus Mountains as an entry point. Georgia and Azerbaijan… These are all neutral countries, and they will not stop the Americans from getting to that base, but they would not allow those dogs to set up their own upon their lands. Without this base, the Americans cannot even operate their own counter-invasion."

MacTavish did not like the idea. "Makarov can easily bring ten thousand troops here and we wouldn't have a chance against them," he said. Makarov would attack this very base the first opportunity he had, and it would be a swift and severe move, to make an example of them to the world, he was sure of it. Raptor contacted them and the Loyalists for this sole purpose. The Loyalist base has to be protected at all costs, because the Americans had no other alternative. The neighboring countries would suffer Russia's wrath if they granted the US armed forces permission to set up their base there.

"It is what we have to work with, Soap," Kamarov said. Even if the Americans had successfully repelled the Russians from their East Coast, it would take more than a week for them to be ready to mobilize to Russia. The worse thing was that the US Army Rangers, who were the closest to them, had been pulled back to America just a day before the invasion had started… "Even if we are currently on our own, we will make a show to those Ultranationalists that they'll never forget."

Price, however, had a very, very bright idea. "The thing with Makarov is that he is very set in his preconceptions towards the situation before him," he told the two men with him. This fact, had been proven by Anya. The late corporal had been driven by vengeance, and Makarov, astounded by her skill and her determination, used her as a double-agent. What he did not know was that she was so plagued from within following the attack on Zakhaev International Airport that she killed herself in the end. There was a highly likely chance that Makarov would be looking at a similar map in Moscow as well… "He thinks that we're just a bunch of rag-tag idiots with guns in our hands, and that we're awfully suicidal. So, I don't think that he'll send a huge amount of men towards us."

"They are nothing but a few bedraggled rats biting the cage to try to escape," Makarov told Vorshevsky, showing him a digital map of the Caucasus Mountains, and the Loyalist base. Using the software provided, he drew a red circle around a perimeter consisting of rather flat terrain, surrounded by high mountains quite near to where his safehouse was. "Their base is right here, and at highest count, they will only have about 3000 soldiers at the most…"

"What are you planning to do then, Vladimir?" Vorshevsky asked. This man, he was not like Shepherd, his late American counterpart. No, Makarov may have portrayed himself as a cold-hearted terrorist, but this man would not just send his own men to their deaths and leave them when they appeared to have no hope of survival. He was a field man himself, but he knew, that this was one attack that he would not want to concern himself with.

Makarov's answer was simple. "We will bombard them with a few carpet-bombing rounds, and send in a few troops to pick out any survivors. Not a single person must survive."

"Makarov'll most likely use something that he thinks is most effective of removing us… say, carpet bombing," Price said, puffing out some cigar smoke out of his system. "So we'll have to evacuate the base before he sends his bombers here, retreat into the forests and such… Make him stop the rounds, and then, we'll scare the hell out of them when he least expects it."

"This is the only base they have," Makarov continued. "The nearest American base is Fire Base Phoenix, all the way in Afghanistan." Ah, Fire Base Phoenix, it had been where Anya had been deployed from, he mused, remembering the "vision" that he had seen the previous night. "They will defend it to the end of their lives."

"And if they run from this battle?" Vorshevsky asked, pointing out a viable probability. The man was content with what little power he had, as a figurehead leader of Russia, but it did not mean that he was in any way, a fool. The most important thing, why Makarov was content with him at the supposed head of the government, was that he was loyal to Zakhaev's cause, unlike the other muddle heads that called themselves Ultranationalists, and he was able to see through the hearts of men with an eye clearer than any other. It was Vorshevsky that enlightened him to the possibility that Anya had made her way into his heart, long before he knew it himself…

The expression on Makarov's face lightened a little, revealing to the President of Russia a slightly diabolical smile that the other man had not seen in a long, long time. "Then, Boris, my friend, we would have gained another base, one that can intimidate our dear neighbors in that region as well."

"Makarov thinks that he's gonna be the winner of this opening battle, but we'll show him that his style is too flashy, and subtlety can also get what you want, when you want it," Price concluded, content with what they had come out with. "And we'll need a huge amount of luck to pull this shit off."

Kamarov chuckled. "Do not worry Price, as we know, Soap here is extremely lucky, perhaps some of his luck would rub off on us."

"Haha, very funny," MacTavish replied, rolling his eyes.