Six days later…

"Yes Connie, tell the florist I want the white ones…because they're traditional, that's why! Yes I know you think they're boring…okay, then put some purple ones in there too, they're pretty…hey, this is my wedding, remember?" Soap chuckled as Melissa argued with Connie over the phone. They had set the date of the wedding for August 15th and were having the ceremony in Glasgow, chosen because of Soap's family and how it was left alone in the war. Rather than enlist her grandmother, Lorraine or his own mother, Soap was surprised to hear that Melissa had asked Connie to help her plan the wedding. Turns out her mother was a wedding planner and had taught Connie a few tricks of the trade. It was now nearly the end of January, leaving a little more than seven months to plan. But unfortunately, getting married wasn't the first item on the agenda. Melissa had gotten in contact with Captain Leicester and arranged to be interviewed about her "experiences" with Ursa, wanting to get it over and done with. Once she had told him, Soap immediately demanded to go with her, which Mac approved. Price had asked to go too, and Soap knew it was to keep an eye on the proceedings. Mac was going himself, and had arrived in London the day before. The three of them were currently seated in a luxury BMW making its way through the underground tunnels of London, taking them to the new MI5 headquarters. The intelligence agency had temporarily relocated underground after the gas attacks on Europe, and was staying there until their new place was reconstructed. Representatives from the CIA and MI6 would also be in attendance, among others. Soap and Price were in their SAS dress uniforms, scrubbed and shaved to the letter while Melissa was in a white structured top, A-line black skirt and black Gucci heels, with her makeup impeccable and her short hair tied in a ponytail. She sighed and hung up the phone.

"Have you worked out the flowers?" Soap smirked and his fiancée shook her head.

"White and purple orchids, no pink, and that's final." She said in a ragged voice.

"That tone's just for flowers?" Price snorted "Can't wait to see what a state you'll be in when you're picking out the dress."

"Connie has this whole other side to her. I've unleashed a monster."

"You want her or my mother?" Soap asked.

"Her, even over my own grandmother. Or Lorraine. Hopefully she'll be bridezilla so that I don't have to be."

"Trust me love, you'll turn into bridezilla, it's a given." Price nodded.

"Are we nearly there?" Melissa asked and Soap shrugged.

"Not sure. It's not like they told us where they're living in the sewers." He replied. Melissa bit her lip and fiddled with the strap of her bag. Soap took her hand in his so that she would stop.

"We can turn this car around and go back to Hereford; you don't have to do this." He reminded her gently.

"But I have to." She whispered and Soap squeezed her hand. He knew she wasn't looking forward to reliving her experiences, and no-one had any right to ask her…but at the same time, these guys did. A few seconds later, the car slowed and a large door opened, revealing a garage lit by fluorescent lights.

"We've arrived." The driver said. Soap looked at Price, who nodded. The men put on their berets and the car doors opened on both sides. Melissa took the driver's helping hand and stepped out one side, while her fiancé and Price stepped out on the other with the security guard. Soap noticed a fleet of the same BMW they arrived in parked on the far side of the garage, about half a dozen cars in total. It looked like they were the last to arrive.

"This way, please." The security guard directed, walking towards a door on the opposite side of the garage. They followed him through a maze of white corridors before finally walking through what looked like a reception area. The guard kept going through a walkway that overlooked a huge office with rows and rows of desks, with personnel scurrying around like ants. It took another couple of minutes before they finally reached their destination, with a woman in her sixties standing outside a pair of metal double doors.

"Gentlemen, Miss Morton." She nodded, speaking in a pleasant English voice "Welcome to MI5."

"Director Elroy, thanks for having us." Price replied. Elroy smiled a little. She was a woman in small stature, wearing a black tweed jacket that contrasted nicely with her light blond hair.

"A pleasure. Everyone else has arrived." She looked at Melissa "Thank you for doing this, Miss Morton."

"I didn't have much of a choice." Soap glanced at her. Melissa had a stony face on in a bid not to show any emotion.

"I understand you're not looking forward to doing this, and I also understand why. We'll try to make this quick so that it's done today." She gestured towards the doors.

"Why am I here, why am I here…" Melissa mumbled at the CIA director's question. Soap could feel all of their eyes boring into her. They had been going at this for two hours now. Melissa was seated at the head of a round table, with the heads of the various intelligence agencies making up the rest of the space. Soap and Price were seated behind her, and Mac beside her, keeping an eye on everybody. "I am here, Director Berk, because my father's sociopathic ex-wife keeps making a mess."

"Then help us clean up the mess. On the day of your rescue, Ursa had brought you with her to a meeting with an associate in Hong Kong. According to the incident report, they placed a XV Series Master Laptop case in front of you. We use that to hack highly secure databases. What did they want you to do?"

"I'm not entirely sure."

"Excuse me? What do you mean, you're not entirely sure? They told you to use it, didn't they?"

"Yes."

"To do what?" Director Elroy asked.

"They gave me a server address and told me to create a worm in order to bypass it. It looked familiar, but I can't remember from where."

"Think, Miss Morton, if it's familiar, then you can remember." Director Berk prompted.

"I have a hard time remembering, considering the next moment we were getting shot at." Melissa snapped.

"I think we're going around in circles." Another person from the round table spoke up as Director Berk opened his mouth "We've put Miss Morton through enough. I suggest we adjourn for an hour."

"Agreed -"

"Wait!" the room went silent at Melissa's shout and Soap felt his muscles tense, ready to spring into action "Who spoke just then? Who just agreed?"

"I did. Is there a problem, Miss Morton?" Soap looked at his place card. It read Admiral David Strade, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff of the United States government. Melissa's face sagged in recognition.

"The National Security Agency. Ursa wanted me to hack the NSA." There was a silence for a moment, until Melissa made the mistake of clearing her throat. The bomb exploded.

"THE NSA?!"

"What did she want with them?!"

There were voices trying to speak on top of each other, with no particular one standing out. Soap glanced at Price, who shrugged. Even MacMillan looked baffled.

"OH FOR THE LOVE OF GOD JUST SHUT UP!" Soap stopped himself before he jumped out of his skin as his fiancée's voice thundered out, effectively cutting off the noise and leaving some of the most important people in the world staring at her, dumbstruck. Melissa's thundercloud face had returned and she was standing, her hands planted firmly on the table. "I didn't force myself to come here just to listen to you all squeal like little girls!"

"Melissa," Mac said lowly "Don't get carried away."

"I'm fine, Mac." She said through gritted teeth.

"Miss Morton, if you have any inking about what Ursa wanted you need to tell us right now. If you couldn't do the job, she'll get someone else." Admiral Strade said. Melissa resumed her seat.

"That's where my help runs out. Once you make a worm you can hack into any part of the database you want, it doesn't discriminate. She didn't tell me why, just what she wanted. What do you think she was after?"

"Sensitive material, I can't say any more." The admiral motioned to his assistant and whispered in her ear. She nodded and quickly left the room.

Hereford, 2100 hours, MacTavish house…

"I still can't believe you actually stood up and yelled at all of them." Soap said when he came out of the bathroom. Melissa was already in bed, putting down her issue of Bridal Vogue to look at him.

"What, you think I shouldn't of?"

"No, I thought it was very sexy." He grinned wolfishly and kissed her as he slid into bed. He could feel Melissa smiling and pulled away before pulling the covers over himself. "I'm proud of you. That wasn't an easy thing to do today."

"No, it wasn't," she agreed, placing her magazine on the bedside table "I'm glad it's over, this part anyway."

"Which part are you talking about? The interview or the flowers?" Soap laughed when Melissa groaned and flung herself into her pillow.