"Jiji… Jiji! Look what I can do?" little Ryuka said to the man smoking a cigar with her father. Her black eyes, they were filled with a sort of childish joy only graced by progress. There was a child-sized katana in her hands, one that had been a family heirloom.

"Oh, what you can do?" the man asked her. Her mother took it as a cue, and set up a wooden training dummy at about twenty feet away from them. "Show me, Reddie. Perhaps this old man can see how a modern samurai fights." The three adults smiled at one another while Ryuka got into her stance.

The attack had been swift, an aerial move, structured to destroy the target from the shoulder. Ryuka completely disintegrated the dummy perfectly. "She had been practicing for two months on this one. And she's got it," her father said proudly.

"That's a good girl," the man said. "One day, you'll be a great warrior like your parents, and you'll change the world…"

Her expression brightened. "You really think so?" she asked him, and he picked her up, carrying her and placing her on top of his shoulders. "Jiji…"

Chuckling, the man shook his head. "So impatient…" he said to himself. "You will, sweetheart, I promise you…"

"I love you, Uncle Price!"

That was when she was six years old. She had just mastered the Dragon's Hammer, the technique that she had used countless times, with only one failure: Vladimir Makarov… She had been given her katana when she was sixteen, when she had fully mastered every single sword-stroke of her family's martial arts style. The Algrens were descended from the Daughters of the Dragon, when a Daughter of the Dragon had been sent to America as a peace-offering between Meiji Japan and America during the reign of President Ulysses S. Grant. Together, they had renewed the Line of Dragons, and created a new line of warriors in the New World. Their daughter returned to Japan to continue their line, while their son, continued the progeny of the Algrens.

She and her sister were the first children in two hundred years, to be born of the Algrens, and the Line of Dragons. And Price had been the one who had encouraged them to take the path of the sword again, well, not as literally as Ryuka had endeavored. When both sisters had entered the UN-USSOCOM-Japan military program, he had given them callsigns, for the color of their hair: Kurotatsu, "Black Dragon (shortened to Blackie)" and Koutatsu, "Red Dragon (shortened to Reddie)".

Between his missions with the SAS, Price would often spend time with her family. He had none of his own, and he had looked upon Mr. Algren's daughters as his own, and when he was not in Kyoto, he would call them, sometimes frequently.

"Really, the TSG?" Price asked Ryuka, now 20 years old. She was still young, but had already graduated from the military program that she and her sister had enrolled themselves in. Upon graduation, she was absorbed into the Tokushu Sakusen Gun or the Japanese Special Forces Group, and was sent to the United States as a "special correspondent on indefinite loan". "You've done both your old men proud."

"Jiji, do you know where are we now?" Ryuka asked him, with much enthusiasm. Her father was beside her, and he shook his head. They were not supposed to reveal the nature of their missions to others, not even to those closest to them.

"Wherever you are, you must be doing great," he told her. "I must say the same myself, just that we have a new FNG, too. And he's just a few years older than you are."

Ryuka rolled her eyes. "Uncle Price, even if you marry me off, you won't get the bride price," she told him. "My parents will."

Price smiled. She could tell from his voice. "I'll most probably get a third. He has a strange name though… Soap… Anyways, I'll see you around sweetheart. Good luck on your mission."

It had been five years ago, five years ago since that phone call. If MacTavish had been entitled to his nightmares that recalled Price, she could have her own memories. "Reddie?" MacTavish asked her when he saw her furrowed brow.

"I'm alright," she told him. "Just… memories…" Something told her, that there was something more to the memories that had surfaced, and MacTavish's nightmares. They could not have happened almost one another, to two different people. The two of them had been connected to the same person, the same benefactor, guide and mentor… She just hoped…

The flight to the Gulag took about two hours, and there had been time for her to get lost in her thoughts, and even some time to sleep. Resting her head on MacTavish's shoulder, her hand in his, she slept for a good half an hour, recharging her proverbial batteries. All of them did.

"Sixth Fleet's mopping up," MacTavish said, briefing on them on the second phase of the mission. "Time to move in. Long history, this building… Not much of it pretty, it Started out as a castle with an actual dungeon, built to withstand any siege. Building survived every brutal winter, the occupants… they weren't so lucky. The Monastery didn't survive the Purges. Over the last century, it's played host to everyone the Government didn't want but couldn't kill. Place is filled with living casualties of the last war… which… (pfft) I swear I thought we'd won. But I suppose that it's all a day at the races, you back the losing horse, and this is where you end up. 627 is the piece of meat that Makarov wants, so let's cut him loose."

It was just like MacTavish, utterly textbook of his performance: Always well-prepared, always knowledgeable on every single variable, for the safety of his team, for the success of the mission. Those that followed him, would have just taken their lives if he would ask them to, and he had learnt it all from the master himself.

The sun was already above the horizon, the seas, seemingly peaceful. But behind the four Little Birds, were little dots of white, grey and black, from a bird's eye view. Upon closer inspection on a lower altitude, one could see that those dots, were actually ships, air-carriers and submarines. The American Navy was in Petropavlosk to exact the revenge of a nation whose might had always been known.

"Thirty seconds," MacTavish said. They would arrive in thirty seconds. One of the four Little Birds had guns, and it opened the way for the, taking out the watch tower closest to them. Of course, the entire place was on high alert, but at those times, a little shock and awe was that they had needed. One by one, the battlements of the former castle was continuously filled by personnel. Snipers got ready, and so did their counterparts that handled AT-4s. These men, there was no doubt, that they were Makarov's men, judging by the strange mix of weapons that they were using. "All snipers, this is MacTavish, standby to engage," the Captain instructed, and the rest followed. "All snipers- clear to engage."

While Ryuka took out the men handling the AT-4s, Roach took care of the rest of them. "This is Red Dragon, tower Echo clear, ready to move to the other tower," Ryuka reported. It was a tedious job, sometimes, being the Lieutenant. You had to repeat anything that's laid out in the open… Well at least Ghost was doing the same as well.

MacTavish nodded, and said, "Shift right." The Little Bird shifted, and they did the same on the next tower. "I see four hostiles on the next tower!" Just as they were about to take them out, an F-15 flew right in front of them, causing the Little Bird to rock as the result of the air-draft.

"Hang on!" the pilot shouted, and maneuvered to stabilize the helicopter.

MacTavish was not happy at all. "Shepherd, get those fighters to cease fire immediately!" he snapped at Shepherd. "That was too close!"

"I'll try to buy you some time," Shepherd replied. "One man in the Gulag doesn't mean much to the Navy at this point…"

Ghost had already seemed to have lost his patience. "Bloody yanks, I thought they were the good guys!"

"Ghost, cut the chatter, stay frosty!" MacTavish growled. Apparently, this was not a smooth mission as everyone had expected it to be.

It was utter controlled chaos, and just as the Little Birds landed, guns were being fired at them from every single direction. They had no choice but to take cover behind one of the tanks that had been nearest to them. "Two-One in position for gun run," the gunned Little Bird's pilot announced.

"Copy Two One," MacTavish replied. "Lasing target on the second floor!"

The six tangos on the second floor were annihilated, by the Little Bird's guns, and they were clear to advance further into the compound. "Cover me, will you, boys?" Ryuka asked the Navy SEAL named Worm and Roach when she could see a few tangos reloading their guns behind the wall. She could get to them with her katana before they were even ready.

"Reddie, come back here!" MacTavish shouted just seconds after the two nodded their answer. But by then, three men were already decapitated, and they were clear to head towards the entrance of the Gulag. "Never mind… the entrance is up ahead, keep moving!"

More hostiles came towards them, but were all eliminated as they pushed forwards, blood splattered against the walls of the Gulag, snow, and even the ground, the sounds of feet moving and guns being fired increased from every direction. They were increasingly being outnumbered, and they needed to get in, fast. And get in, they did.

"This is it!" MacTavish announced. "This is it, we go in, grab Prisoner 627 and get out!"

"That's the control room up ahead," Ghost said. "I can use it to find the prisoner, it's gonna take some time!"

MacTavish seemed to agree with the idea. The mission could go on easier with someone lighting the path for them. "Copy that," he said. "Roach, Reddie, we're on cell duty, follow me!"

The two mentioned nodded, and Ryuka signaled to a few of the Navy SEALs to come with them as well. They would need the extra manpower, there would be no doubt about it. Descending a flight of stairs, they were met with more tangos, tangos which they had all eradicated. "Alright, I'm patched in," Ghost announced. "I'm tracking your progress on the security cameras."

"Copy that, do you have the location of Prisoner 627?" MacTavish asked. Ghost, however, said that he did not, but put up a searchlight for them to highlight the presence of incoming hostiles. "Roger that, stay sharp, the prisoner can be in one of these cells… Ghost, we've hit a security door, get it open!"

"Working on it… this hardware is ancient!"

"With all the money he has, the bastard cannot even maintain his own private Gulag…" Ryuka sighed, a snide jab at Makarov, but was kind of appropriate at the time. A few of them chuckled, but MacTavish; let's say that the mission was getting slightly on his nerves.

"Reddie…"

"Alright, alright," Ryuka said, "Keep the comms clear, I get it."

Something was not right at all. All of these cells were empty, and not a sign of life apart from the hostiles that came running towards them. They had cleared a few levels, and still, the result was the same. "Talk to me Ghost," MacTavish growled. "These cells are deserted!"

"Got it!" Ghost replied, "Prisoner 627's been transferred to the East Wing… Head through the armory in the center, that's the fastest way there."

"Ghost, if this is a Gulag, where the hell are the other prisoners?" Ryuka asked, looking around. "This place is a Gulag… It should be filled to the brim with people…" At that point of time, all they had seen were only hostiles, and not a single prisoner. The walls of the cells, she could see, were filled with bloodstains that had been dried for a few days…

Although Ryuka had fell silent since her question, the grim realization washed through everyone. There was a strong possibility that Makarov could have anticipated their moves, and killed everyone in there, one by one… "Let's hope that 627's still alive, then," Roach said. There was nothing more to be said.

"Bad news, mates," Ghost said, suddenly, clearing the air, and the tension. "I'm tracking three, no, four hostile squads converging on your position." Well, that could not be good at all. That would been that there would be around eighty people, against the six of them. Just perfect.

"I can hear them coming!" MacTavish said. "Let's go, we're too exposed! Ghost, open the door!"

And open the door, Ghost did, but it somehow stopped halfway. "Bloody hell, they've locked it from the hardline, I'll have to run a bypass…" Ryuka unsheathed her katana again, and hacked at the steel grates of the door, only emitting sparks as a result. It was a heavy duty-door which could be only opened from the control room.

"Too late, they're already here!" MacTavish could see them, all eighty of them firing from various positions. "We're gonna need more cover. Grab a riot shield!" The team did as they were told, while Ryuka had been forced to go behind him, as they were not enough to go around. "Open the door!"

"Almost there," Ghost replied. "Routing through the auxiliary circuit…" And then, the ultimate moment of magic, the door was opened. The team quickly advanced through the other level, using the riot shields to draw the fire of the incoming hostiles. "Ghost here, recommend you bypass the lower floors by rappelling out that window!"

"Copy that… Reddie, Roach, follow me!"

The lowest level was dark, dank and wet. There were puddles of water all over the place, and the stench of stagnant water was overwhelming. Every step they took was a step closer to Prisoner 627, but with every single step, they saw more and more bloodstains. "They must have been executed in their cells…" Ryuka said, touching one of the splatters of blood. MacTavish took her hand by the wrist and shook his head. Understanding his intentions, she did not say anything further.

One by one, they passed new hallways, with empty cells. These were solitary confinement cells, where not even the light of the sun could reach. They must be a ways underground… And as they passed into a lighted hallway, the Gulag started to shake and rumble. An explosion was heard, and more light entered, due to the hole that had been formed.

"Shepherd, what the hell was that?" MacTavish shouted. "Get the Navy to cease fire!"

"The Navy isn't in a talking mood right now," Shepherd replied. "Standby, Bravo Six – they've agreed to stop firing for now. Keep going, I'll keep you posted, out." They did not fear from Shepherd after that.

Roach planted a breaching charge on the wall that led to the old showers, blasting open a hole for them to enter. "I'll take out the hostiles on the second floor," Ryuka said, getting up a ladder on the far side of the wall once they got in. MacTavish nodded, and led the others into the shower rooms. "Captain, teams with riot shields right in front of you. Suggest using grenades or flanking them."

"You heard the lady, move quickly and hit them from the side," MacTavish said. "Or, cook your grenades to detonate behind them!" Soon, the troops with the riot shields were already down, and so were the hostiles on the second level. By then, Ryuka had already got back down, and had slashed one heavy assault troop from behind, severing his arm off completely. "I'm heading for that hole in the far end of the showers," he told the team. One by one, they jumped into the hole, and into a tunnel system, filled with more stagnant water. "Ghost, we're in the old tunnel system, heading south-southwest."

"Ok, keep going along that tunnel…" Ghost said. "You're almost there…"

It was then when Ryuka felt a spark of Ki that she had never felt before… A sudden burst of energy that she could recognize anywhere… She did not dare to keep her hopes up, for fear of getting disappointed, but she knew that it was there, it was near them… "I sense activity behind that wall," she told the others. "Two men…"

"That's a positive, Reddie," Ghost replied. "I'm detecting two heat signatures – one of them should be Prisoner 627."

Another breaching charge was placed, and the wall was blasted open. They were right. There really were two men in that area, one strangling the other with a chain. Ryuka took a dagger from her pouch a threw it at the guard who was being strangled, alerting the 627, who punched the person closest to him, who turned out to be Roach, and pointed the AK-47 in his hands at the kid.

"Drop it," MacTavish warned sternly, and immediately, 627 looked up, unbelieving in what he saw.

"Soap… Ryuka?" he asked. It had been a long, long time since he had seen the two of them, and at the same place as well…

"Price?" MacTavish returned, just as surprised as he was. Ryuka, too, immediately went towards Price and gave him a big hug, without saying anything, leaving Worm to wonder just who this "Soap" was.

They did not have the time for a reunion right there in the Gulag, not when another explosion caused the place to shake violently. This time, it had been worse than the last one. "Come on, we gotta get outta here, move!" MacTavish barked.

"Bravo Six be advised," another voice came into the comms, the pilot of the Pave Low that was going to extract them. "They've started the bombardment early, get the hell outta there now!"

Together, the team along with Price made their way to the end of the tunnel, but before they were even able to get into the chopper, the tunnel collapsed, causing them to turn back. "There is another way out," Ryuka said, leading them back towards where they had started, turning at a place where they had not noticed. It was an old cafeteria, but there was a gaping hole at the ceiling.

"Six-Four, where the hell are you, over?" MacTavish asked.

"There's too much smoke," Six Four replied. "I can't see you!"

Pieces of rubble started to fall all around them, due to the bombardment, and the already decaying structure. The Gulag would not stand erect for long. Roach was getting nervous, and unwittingly stepped right under one rather large piece of rubble. "Roach!" Ryuka and MacTavish called him, while Price quickly got the piece of rubble off him.

"Whatever you're gonna do Soap, do it fast!" Price yelled, as Ryuka checked Roach for any injuries, thanking the Shinto Gods when she found out that he was sustaining only minor injuries. By then, MacTavish had already fired a flare from his M203, and a SPIE rig was dropped from Six Four's Pave Low, having seen them already. "Let's go, let's go!"

They hooked themselves up onto the SPIE rig, and was pulled up by the chopper, one by one. The skies had never been bluer, and the clouds, never whiter for Captain Price. He could see from above the American Navy in all its splendor, completely decimating the prison that had held him for the past five years. Freedom, was no longer a distant thought, but a reality.

HAN: WHEW, that was long. ^.^ The Gulag is always the longest chapter to write... ahahahaha ^.^ Thanks ecto1b for her kind review, and oh yes, the sunrise scene in the last chapter had been referenced from hers, so thank her for it!

And I'm going to ask you guys another question. Would you like Price to walk in on Soap and Ryuka, just for fun?