It was his choice, and his alone.

"Well? Are you gonna trust me?" Shepard asked again.

Soap, recovering from his blood loss and being shaken about like a ragdoll, sighed heavily and leaned against a building. It wasn't hard to remember Price supporting some of his weight as they passed through the nearby door. The thought gave him a chill. "I can't say I have much a choice here, do I? What would I be agreeing to anyways?"

Shepard smiled, in a somewhat insane, somewhat social way, "I found this out by listening in on a coversation between a couple of demon spawn. About how some people manage to escape death even when they've clearly died. It's simply a reserrection, but it can only be done through an agreement."

"With?" Roach gestured for him to continue.

"The Sealers." Shepard answered, as if it weren't a big deal. Judging by the way Ghost's mask contorted, and Roach's eyes widened, it was.

"The Sealers?" Ghost exclaimed. "You'd have to be mad! It's near suicide just making the trip! And when you get there you have to deal with three bickering powers who could insinerate you if you just mention a color they hate!"

Shepard's glare was solid at stone. But he looked away. "Near suicide for a rouge, or a new kill, sure. But not for you two doves. You could fly! And you know where the danger is."

"But MacTavish can't." Roach said slowly. "We can't go and just fly there because we need to make sure he gets there in one piece."

"And what would the agreement be?" Soap asked, deciding it would be a good thing to consiter.

Now Roach and Ghost stared at Soap, bathled, but Shepard looked to him evenly. "It's more like a bet. About someone who is still alive. No one is allowed to influence the person to make him do a thing that might tip the scales. You, since it's your life on the line, could make a bet on what someone might do in the future. You also have to predict when. So that Russian man you seem to look to, for example, you could say that you bet he'll be flyin a helicopter tomorrow."

"So all I need to do is place a bet on my friends' heads." Soap said, knitting his eyebrows.

"Exactly."

"MacTavish? You aren't actually consitering this, are you?" Ghost asked hesitantly.

"We should get moving." Soap answered, then grabbed Shepard by the shoulder and pushed him forward. "And you can show us where this place is."

"Fine. Go ahead and make me your prisoner, I'll help you still." Shepard easily agreed. This was unsettling.

Four Days Later...

Price stood in silence as he watched them finish carving Soap's name into the clocktower. Beside him stood Nikolai and Yuri. Though he wanted to be here alone, they insisted that they come along, Nikolai claiming that Soap was his friend too.

A hand on his shoulder made Price jump in surprise. He turned around to find himself staring at the familar face of MacMillian. The older didn't change much besides his dark auburn hair graying some more. His steely eyes held some rare form of sympathy that should have been long gone after all these years. The two stood in silent for a long minute before MacMillian pulled Price into a loose hug.

At first, Price was ridged, but he slowly took to the embrace and forced his burning eyes to keep the tears back. The older didn't say anything at first, just kept an arm over his now battleworn former student in the chill of the autumn air. His voice came quiet, "I'm sorry, lad. I'm sure that where ever Soap is now, he'll be happy to know you're still fine."

Price disengaged himself from MacMillian, looking at him like he was half dead himself. He had dark circles under his eyes from a lack of sleep and looked older than his years would care to explain. "I'm going after Makarov."

For a moment, the older didn't respond, he just held Price's gaze before sighing. "Should've figured you wouldn't let this go."

"He killed Soap," Price stated, surprised himself that his voice managed to keep steady. "He also is responcible for Sandman and his men dying. Face it, if he goes down, then the world is in a lot better a place."

"Aye, I'm not saying I don't agree with you." MacMillian replied. "I'm just saying, where on Earth could you even begin to look? The bastard's got a lot of friends and could be on the other side of the world by now."

"I know." Face set in some iron cast of determination and greif, Price didn't seemed swayed by MacMillian's fact. "But I'll find him. No matter what it takes. That bastard is going to hell."

More silence.

Then Yuri stepped in, "I know it is hard for you to trust me right now, Captain Price. But I-."

"It's alright, Yuri." Price cut in. "I'm going to have to trust you anyways. So don't do anything to give me reason not to."

At first, Yuri seemed shocked at Price's implied appology, then nodded.

"I'll be here to help." MacMillian told him. "All those men who died at his hands shouldn't been left unavenged."

"Dah, and I will be here as well." Nikolai proclaimed. "You will need someone to fly you anyways, my friend."

Price looked to Nikolai with a half smile, "Right, just don't crash yourself into another sandstorm. I don't need to hunt you down like last time."

The Russian laughed weakly, still somewhat pretrified from the insident, "I will try not to."

Alright, sorry for the time skip. Just that I was looking up when all the dates the missions took place and found out that I've warped reality and made the Stronghold mission take place during the Down The Rabbit Hole mission cause I'm a derp. So yeah, my solution to everything... TIIIIIIIIIIIIME SKIIIIIIIIIIIP!
So yeah, hope you guys like. Tell me what you guys think so far and I'll be working on the next chapter as well as another story.