Never in her life, had she ever imagined that would she see the man who had knowingly sent her to her death... Every step of her life had been carefully calculated, until the very time where she had ceased being Maria Allen. Her sapphire eyes, they were blank and vacant, cast towards the floor as Shepherd berated every single member of the 141 that had taken part in the previous mission in Petropavlosk.
"All of you deliberately disregarded my orders," Shepherd said, looking at all of them. "You launched a nuclear missile into the atmosphere, and destroyed the International Space Station!"
They offered no reply, no reply at all. No one, except for her... "Sir, with all due respect, but I was of the opinion that you were the one who told us that war was worth every price," she told him. At that moment, Shepherd's eyes widened... At that moment, she knew that everything could not be planned. She knew that she would be placing herself in great danger, but she could not care anymore.
As she said those words, she remembered the many brothers that she had lost when she was in the Army Rangers. There were too many names to ever remember, but she could recall all of their faces. She was merely using his own tactics against him... "The EMP was able to even the scales in our favor," she added. "A few more strikes, and we will be able to turn the odds against the Russians."
MacTavish turned his cold blue eyes towards her and nodded. "What she said was true, sir," he said, "We're the Task Force 141. All of us are soldiers who will fight for our own families. Now that America's in trouble, we have to do what we can to help."
Shepherd knew that his men, and woman, would not back down at all. They acted as one single unit, although they originally came from the many different factions of many different militaries. "Alright, you're all off the hook," he said. "In fact, you're right... MacTavish, Allen, Price, I want to see all of you after this debrief."
These three would be the hardest to deal with. He needed a new way to separate them from the rest of their team members, and kill all of them at the same time. Allen would be most dangerous... He knew that this girl may be young, but she had all the workings of a new leader, how could he not know what was in her mind? He knew why he chose her to act as a "spy", because of her skill of making others think what they want to think, and now, she was doing just that...
"Allen, I want to know why you haven't reported that you survived the attack on Zakhaev International Airport," he told her, piercing her sapphire eyes with his own.
"Sir, she's been through a lot lately," MacTavish said, stopping Shepherd mid-sentence. She cast him a look and shook her head at him as she walked towards him.
She knew that even if she could hide from Shepherd once, she could not hide from him forever. "I failed my mission," she told him bluntly. "I was afraid..." Thousands of lives lied at her own feet, one day; she would face every single of them, but not now... She knew that she had to face him one day, whoever was with her, or was not with her.
"Nah, no one could ever blame you," he told her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Makarov was always highly suspicious, even to his own men."
Makarov might have portrayed himself as a bloodthirsty killer, but she knew that it was all but a ruse. It was to bring the eyes of the world away from his operations right in the heart of the Ultranationalist regime. The Kremlin would shatter into pieces without him... That attack might not have left anything on his conscience, but she knew that he had seen it as a necessary measure. Shepherd had "hired" him to do it, while he needed an excuse to launch an attack against the United States...
All in all, no matter how much blood he had spilt, Makarov was only a man that loved his country, in his own way... Not like Shepherd. This man would risk everything for only one word: glory. In his voice, he spoke of glory for his nation, but in his heart, it was only glory for himself... That was why he was able to send thousands upon thousands of soldiers to their deaths, just to accomplish his own goals.
"Thank you, sir," she replied softly.
Shepherd nodded, and turned towards the mess of maps and mobile computers strewn across the long table. "Now, what have you got for me?"
She smiled. This would be her time to shine...
Anya left the debriefing room tired and weary. It sickened her to her very core of her being, knowing that Shepherd was right there, within striking range, and she could not do anything. Makarov... he should have already cleared his safehouse in the Caucasus Mountains. He should be in Afghanistan right now, in the suspected "arms deal" he had with some other black market top dog.
"Hey, what's up?" Roach asked her when she returned to their bunks.
"Nothing..." she answered. Her dark eyes missed his gaze, and Roach, no matter how short a time he had known her, knew that something was wrong.
He propped his head on his palm, and looked at her as she angrily took a comb to comb her gold hair. "You can tell me anything, you know. We're bunkmates."
Anya looked at him and turned away from him. "It's nothing, really," she finally answered. Her sapphire eyes, they were cast down, avoiding his eyes, and she knew, that he would not stop until she divulged something to him.
"Don't tell me," Roach said. "You have the hots for MacTavish, don't you?" he asked, causing her to emit a mere sound of cold, sarcastic laughter. Wait, that was a rather baseless claim, wasn't it? Anya had showed no signs of attraction towards the Captain at all.
Still, there was this... look on her face. "You won't get it, Roach," she told him. "Even I don't get it."
"What the hell is so hard to get?" he asked her. "It's not that you spent the night with Makarov, and you can't forget him, or that kind of shit, right?"
There was a strange silence on her part, and she stopped combing her hair violently... It was the strangest and most dangerous thing that Roach had ever come to have known. If it had been any consolation, she did not say anything. Silence had never, ever been a sign for approval and consent, right?
"Roach, if I told you a story, promise me that you won't tell anyone else," she said to him. "A long time ago, there was a girl who dreamed to be a doctor... But she knew that the world needed more soldiers, that's why she brought herself to the army. She took the advantage, and tried to be the best soldier she ever could be. And one day, her general told her that she was going to achieve the greatest success she ever could..." Roach sat up and looked at Anya, who already dropped her comb on her bunk. "She was to take down one of the world's greatest terrorists, but when she met him, he gave her his soul..."
Anya could remember every single word that Makarov had said to her. She could see through his plans, but that did not matter. The most important thing was that he never even tried to silence her, nor did he doubt her. "He saved her, Roach, from what lied before her. He left her alive, when he was supposed to kill her. The terrorist promised her that they would meet again, but how could they? When they meet again, they would have to kill one another..."
Roach just looked at her, and jumped down from his bunk, landing right next to her. "Well, maybe you won't get to see him in the battlefield," he told her. It was a fool's hope, but hope, nonetheless. However, she knew that at all costs, she had to see him again. No matter what it took, she knew that she had to see him again.
"I will die before anyone knows," Roach answered. From what he heard, it was only a one-sided thing. They might have had a fling, but it was nothing more than that, right? "Promise."
The two of them shared a small smile, and they bumped fists. Her sapphire eyes were glowing, different from how they were just a few hours ago. "Thanks, Roach," she said. "You're a real good friend."
There were tears in her eyes... "What are you crying for, you idiot?" Roach asked her.
It had been a long time since she had been with anyone that she could trust and know as a friend... It seemed like a whole lifetime ago... Within seconds, she stopped crying, but Roach was still as puzzled as ever. "It's nothing," she told him, wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. "I think we should get to bed... We have another big mission tomorrow."
Cpl. Maria "Anya" Allen (AKA Ultranationalist Codename "Anya")
Task Force 141
The Boneyard, Kandahar, Afghanistan.
They were being briefed on their new mission. This time, the entire Task Force 141 would be split into two. "It's been a tough week, people," Shepherd said to all of them. "We've lost more than we ever dreamed. But we will recover. I've got a blank check. And we're gonna use every cent of it killin' Makarov. Despite what the world may say, we are not savages, we don't kill civilians. We use precision. There's an evil man hiding in these shadows and we're gonna bring him into the light. Once his face is revealed, we will write history, gentlemen."
So charismatic, so inspiring... Anya knew that it was all an act, much like that of her own. She crossed her arms as she heard every single word. "Sir, permission to join Captains Price and MacTavish to head to the boneyard," she said to Shepherd after raising her hand.
Shepherd looked at her and nodded. She was making it overly easy for him. And at the same time, Ghost had volunteered to take Roach and some of the others to Makarov's safehouse in the Caucasus Mountains... With all of them out of the way, there certainly would be no doubt that he would succeed...
"Sounds like we have to be at two places at once," Price commented, dipping some of his cigar ashes on the ground.
"Impossible?" Shepherd asked, raising his eyebrow.
"Not for the 141," Price replied, at the same time as Anya. The two of them looked at one another, and shared a small smile.
That was how she had gotten into that mess... Shepherd's men in one corner, Makarov's men in the other, in a vast area used to dump decommissioned American military vehicles. None of them had attacked one another yet, but she knew that such a thing would come soon... They were all waiting for their own orders; orders that would enable them to take one another down, in a battle that she knew would be as bloody as anything previously fought.
Leaning on an old, rusty airplane, Anya could not help but to allow her thoughts wander to a certain someone... She knew that Makarov was there. He had been a terrorist who would run at the first sight of opposition, but that did not mean that he was a coward. No, he would rather fight for another day, and now, when the fighting had not started, she knew that he would be nearby...
"What's this, a Ranger caught off her guard?"
She knew that voice... She could recognize that voice from anywhere in the world, and she would not be mistaken. "Makarov..." she murmured, and was immediately held towards a strong male body in a powerful embrace. Within seconds, her lips were pressed onto his, in a kiss that she never thought that she would have again...
"Anya..." Makarov replied, when the kiss broke. "I am glad that you are well, my dear." His words, they seemed to be wholly genuine. "You must have had cast quite an impression on Shepherd..." He knew that she was not able hide her presence from Shepherd?
"You have to get out of here," she told him, grasping his arms with her white hands. "Shepherd has this whole place surrounded... You're outnumbered three to one!" Once again, she was silenced by a kiss... He took her hands in his, and brought them to his chest. "Makarov, you have to go, now!"
Makarov only brushed a lock of her hair out of her face, and said, "Anya... You know that I have my own ways to escape." That much she knew, but still... She knew that Makarov would always have a backdoor. "But you, you must find your own way."
In her heart, she knew that Makarov already knew that this battle would be lost. He had already calculated this very early on. "Makarov... I..." She also knew that wherever he would go, she would never see him again. Their paths would cross only until there.
But... She still had so many things to tell him, so many things that she knew, he had not told her. There had been no chance for the two of them to talk of sweet dreams and fragrant memories, but when they last parted, those heterochromic eyes held a promise to her that she knew could never be broken... If only she just knew what it was...
"Anya, promise me that you will be safe," he told her, kissing her forehead as he embraced her one last time. "I will come back for you if I can." This woman, he could not leave her willingly if he had not been deliberately forced to. If he could have had his way, he would rather not to meet her, so that he did not have to be faced with the dilemmas that she had brought with her.
Anya shook her head. "Don't come back if you can escape," she told him, "Shepherd will kill you right here if he can..."
The two of them had been two different people anyways, they could never be together forever. She was a soldier, fighting to restore hope to a dying country, while he had been a man hellbent with vengeance and ambition. They could never be happy together, even if they tried.
But still, he held her in his arms. "Go, now," he whispered into her ear. If she did not leave him now, he knew that he would not be able to part with her...