May 2nd 2018-London

A day after she got back, Aaron immediately went into work to talk to Jonas. He's sent her text after text while she was gone keeping her updated on what was going on. Apparently there had been another event where DETO sent in a group of agents to investigate a building that was suspected of being a meeting place for some of the ultranationalist supporters. The place ended up being abandoned by the time the team go there, but there were more crates from Fregata and this time around the crates were empty, but there was a check list with it with items like automatic weapons and smoke grenades on it. The second Jonas saw that, he contacted MacMillan at Aaron's request. MacMillan then ended up finding out from a few sources that someone was funding all of the shipments to places in London, France, Berlin, and even Rome. The violence may have slowed down a bit over the past couple of weeks, but MacMillan guessed everyone was getting geared up. Whoever was funding the shipments and weapons was building a small army out of all the ultranationalist supporters.

Aaron wasn't in her office for two minutes when Jonas came in. "Good you're finally back." He said as Aaron hung her coat up. His hair was a bit messy and he was in a pair of khakis and a red button up shirt with a plaid scarf hung around his neck. "Yeah I'm back." Aaron replied. "What's going on?"

"MacMillan is contacting all the other DETO headquarters and they are trying to get a handle on everything and detain as many people as they can to slow this down. Unfortunately everyone refuses to release any information about anything."

"These kinds of men won't break." Aaron told him. "I've seen them before. They'll die before they release anything about anything."

Jonas sat down in the chair by the coffee table. "Seems like the war is never over."

Aaron sat at her desk. "I thought it was over after Zakhaev…and then Makarov…and then Anatoly." The mention of her old captor and torturer made Aaron squirm a little bit. Even though he was dead and Russia was far behind her, the memories were still fresh in her mind from the nightmares that still infiltrated her mind at night.

"Aaron, MacMillan said something about bringing in your old Task Force if this has a connection to Makarov and Anatoly. Because if it is, they have worked cases like this before and could help out big time."

Aaron looked at her boss and nodded. "I know it's just…how do I tell Price and Soap that this still isn't over. Especially Price. He hated Makarov more than anyone else on the planet and then Anatoly showed up to try to finish what his brother started."

"Look we don't even know for sure if there is a connection yet."

Aaron let out a sigh. "If Fregata is a supplier, major European countries are involved, and this is only happening months after Anatoly's death…I am pretty positive we're gonna find that connection."

Afghanistan

Soap sat in the back of a pick-up truck cleaning his gun in his lap as he cleaned it. The sun was blazing hot and even wearing only cargo pants and wife beater, he was sweating buckets. It was a little after nine and since it was only a day after everyone got back from leave, it was a slow day. Everyone was still jet lagged from the time difference in Europe then the Middle East. For Soap he was trying to keep his mind busy while he went about his day. Normally when they went on missions it was easy to keep your thoughts reeling throughout the day, but today was uneventful so he was pretty bored. He kept thinking about Sadie and her meltdown at the airport. The whole thing broke his heart, but he could understand her frustration. Him going home and leaving took an equal toll on him.

"Oi Soap." A voice sounded.

Soap didn't have to look up to know it was Price. His voice was pretty distinctive. "Ay old man." The Scott replied without looking up.

"Got a couple of guys I want you to meet."

Soap looked up and saw two younger guys with Price. They both looked to be in their mid-twenties and looked to be related in some way. They both had short dark hair that used to be buzzed, but was starting to grow out a bit. They were around the same height and build, but and one had blue eyes and the other brown. They wore cargo pants and t-shirts, basic military clothes, and had pistol holstered at their hips. The guy on the left had his hand wrapped and the other had a bruised cheek and split lip. Soap set his gun off to the side and gave Price his attention.

"Meet Axe and Bolt, they're fresh from Selection." Price introduced them.

"Those names on their birth certificates?" Soap questioned as he stood up and walked off the end of the flat bed to stand in front of them.

"I'm Mark and that's Sam." The one on the right said. "But we haven't gone by them since we've enlisted."

Soap extended his hand to Mark. "Soap MacTavish." He said. Mark shook his hand. "We know you. You've been in the headlines a few times." Soap chuckled as he went to shake Sam's hand. "I'm assuming you're joining us?"

"Yes sir." Sam replied.

"Soap give them the tour. I have to go talk to MacMillan. It's urgent."

Soap looked at his mentor and nodded, but a question burned in the back of his head of why it was urgent. Price turned and walked off to where they had a small trailer set up that they ran communications from. Once he was out of sight, Soap turned to the new guys. "Alright follow me." He said as he walked past them.

The two men followed Soap who began pointing to different buildings as he explained what they were. "Most of the time we eat outside at tables we set up all around rather than sit inside." Soap told them. "Armory is over there, pit is right next to it, and then the firing range and infirmary are to the left." It took about a half an hour before Soap had showed Axe and Bolt the entire base which looked a bit bigger than you'd think.

"So how'd you get your call signs?" Soap asked them as they approached the mess hall.

"I got mine because I'm pretty good with a tomahawk." Axe explained as he looked at Bolt. "And my little brother over here can out run just about anyone hence the name Bolt."

"So you two are brothers?" Soap clarified as they stepped into the mess hall where other guys were lined up for lunch.

"He's not even a full year older than me." Bolt told Soap as they got in line, his tone hinted with a bit of annoyance. Soap guessed Axe always pulled the "I was born first" card a lot more than Bolt would have liked.

The three men got their food and then returned outside where they sat together at one of the tables scattered about. There were Humvees parked off to the side near the garages and then all the way straight ahead was where the choppers were. The sun was high in the sky and its rays were hitting the three men as they dined on their lunch of chicken, peas, potatoes, and biscuits.

"How'd you get your call sign?" Bolt asked as he shoveled some potatoes into his mouth.

"That's private information." Soap replied with a smiled as he took a swig from his water bottle.

No one knew how Soap got his call sign except for Price. He never even told Aaron. Then again, she never asked.

The men ate their meal and exchanged some stories before going their separate ways. Axe and Bolt raced each other over to the firing range, Bolt winning by several yards. Soap retired over to where Price disappeared to in the trailer. When he walked in, the cool air supplied by the fans hit him. It felt nice against his hot skin.

The trailer was the base of communications and operations, so there were maps up on walls with yarn strung up on them and locations circled. Tables were littered with papers and phones as well as pens and pencils. Soap immediately saw Price standing in front of a map marking locations. As Soap approached him, he noticed Price was marking locations in Italy, Great Britain, France, and Germany. Then when Soap was standing right next to his mentor, he realized he had marked the capitals.

"Project or mission?" Soap asked as he crossed his arms and examined the map.

"Mission if and when I get a call back from MacMillan." Price responded.

"What is it?"

"That place Aaron works for, DETO, they've gotten some alarming clues concerning the ultranationalist supporters back in Europe."

"What kind of alarming clues?"

"Mac is faxing me the reports Aaron sent him, but there have been Fregata crates found along with a few other things that may signal this is the work of a few of Makarov and Anatoly's old friends."

Soap looked at Price with raised eyebrows. "Really?"

"Aaron wouldn't have gone to Mac unless she had a gut feeling and you know as well as I do her gut feeling are right most of the time."

"What happens if a connection to the two Russians pop up?"

"We have to finish our work up here before we get into anything more back home, but if the connection to Makarov and Anatoly is there, we'll have to head over there and help out DETO."

Soap hesitated before responding. They'd go back to Europe? "Where'd we be stationed?"

"Hereford most likely."

"And when would we go back if we have to go back there."

"At the earliest? Three months since we can task another squadron with the work over in Yemen and Oman. The latest would be six months if I can't sweet talk them into finishing up over there."

"Doesn't seem to end with Russia, does it?"

Price turned to look at Soap and Soap turned to face him. "Seems like that, son."

A/N: Okay now we're getting into the conflict. Finally.