Hi guys :) Nice to be writing again, I've been slacking a bit lately. However, I've been thinking non-stop about this story. I have the ending all planned and everything! Unfortunately, I have no idea how exactly to arrange this part…so I'm just gonna give it a go and keep my fingers crossed.

OVER 100 REVIEWS! *Throws a dance party…alone*

None of my characters would dance with me…

On to the story!

LOADING…

LOADING…

LOADING…

WARNING!

UNIDENTIFIED PROGRAM has gained access.

[[RUN PRGM. 14130]]

GRANTED

RUNNING PRGM. 14130.

STANDBY.

…

Emotionless blue eyes gaze blankly at a plate of rations. They blink rapidly, trying to get that stinging feeling to go away. The eyes remain ever dry, however. Ghost doesn't cry. He hasn't in years. Setting his untouched dinner aside, the exhausted man drags his hands over the back of his neck and sighs deeply.

The death of his close friend and leader is taking its toll. Sleep escapes everyone in the group. Tensions rise as they sit in complete silence. Gadget is cleaning her scopes and lining them up on a table. Nikolai is trying to look busy, toying with his gun. Terrance and Hawkins have excommunicated themselves from the group, uncomfortable with being in a room full of soldiers mourning the loss of their captain. Yuri stares blankly at the wall with guilt written clearly on his face.

Price…

Price is reading the journal he took off of Soap's corpse.

Those closest to Mactavish make no attempt to swipe silent tears away. Only Yuri and Ghost remain stony faced.

Seeing Price reading the notebook reminds Ghost of his own diary, tucked safely in between his Kevlar and chest. Pulling it out, he flips it open to the next blank page and fishes a pen out of his pocket.

He writes;

Captain John 'Soap' Mactavish was the greatest man I've ever worked with. He was, without a doubt, the craziest, bravest bastard to ever become a soldier. Mactavish was the only person who could get me out of my 'fits' when I first joined the one four one. After Shepherd's betrayal I was sure he was dead. Of course he survived, and stole the pleasure of killing the traitor.

Ghost frowns, rereading what he'd written. No, it wasn't right. Doesn't fit the man it was written for. A line is etched through the words and Riley starts over.

Mactavish was everything I wanted to be.

He was able to control himself, control his men, keep them safe. He was smart. He wasn't afraid to stand up for himself in the face of our superiors. When I first started out in the one four one I was a mess. They almost sent me off. Mactavish managed to keep me on the team and drag me through the more excruciating bits of insanity. He became my role model, the man I looked up to.

The captain followed orders as long as the orders were what was right. The moment he felt that they were no longer worth pursuing or were going to put us in insurmountable danger, Mactavish tossed them to the curb. I never met a man quite like him. I never will again.

It's gotten me thinking, really. About what happens when one dies…how it leaves everyone they love feeling so empty and alone.

The masked man looks up from his writing for a moment, examining the forlorn and tear-streaked faces around him.

I can't even cry. Everyone else who was close with him is crying. Even that hard ass Price is letting his sodding eyes water a bit. So why in bloody hell can't I? Am I so inhuman that I can't even manage a few tears? That must be it…

That's another thing about Mactavish. Everyone cared about him in one way or another. Some guys, like Roach, looked at him like some sort of father figure. Gadget and Nikolai practically worshiped the ground that man walked on. Price, who was closer to him than anyone, I think, viewed him as a son.

I wonder what that's like…losing a son.

To me...

Ghost pauses, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing.

Mactavish was my best friend. My closest friend. The first person I let in after Roba. The first person I ever trusted with my life. I could kill him for dying and leaving us out to dry. Selfish prick. He was probably just tired and wanted to get some natural, uninterrupted sleep for once.

Riley would laugh if it weren't so damn sad.

He reads over the entry again. And then again. Ghost usually avoided writing something so personal in his book. Typically, he'd jot down a few short sentences and then leave it be.

This is different. Very different.

"What's our next move?"

Everyone in their small company looks to Ghost, then each other, then finally Price. He sits up a bit straighter, wipes his eyes calmly. "We bring in reinforcements."

CONNECTION LOADING…

LOADING…

CONNECTION COMPLETE.

[[BEGIN Transmission]]

"There's a clocktower in Hereford where the names of the dead are inscribed," Captain Price murmurs slowly. "We try to honor their deeds even as their faces fade from our memory. Those memories are all that's left, when the bastards have taken everything else."

There's a very short pause that somehow communicated the extreme levels of pain everyone is feeling. Then the man Price is speaking to over the radio answers, "What happened?"

"He killed Soap." Price grips the edge of the desk, trying hard to keep his voice level. "He's gone, Mac."

The voice, this Mac, is suddenly very compliant. "What do you need from me, son?"

"A location. Our Russian says Makarov used to cache weapons at an old castle near Prague. He's got nothing more solid than that."

"Can you trust him?"

Price's eyes slide over to where Yuri is sitting by himself. Doubt clouds the aging Captain's mind. After all, he's been betrayed before. As if sensing someone's stare boring into him, Yuri looks up and meets Price's gaze. They regard each other for a moment or two before the Russian drops his head. "What choice do I have?" Then, feeling a strange need to defend Yuri, he says, "He's got his own reasons for wanting Makarov dead. Place ring any bells?"

"Aye. We ran drones over a suspect castle back in Zakaev's day, but we never got wind of our targets visiting the area." Baseplate sends a file, and the screen before Price changes into the view from a camera.

As he watches the feed, Price asks. "What am I up against?"

"The place is a fortress. Only one way in or out—unless you've learnt to fly." Mac answers. "Security office on the far side of the compound, and a command center north of that. Both were heavily guarded. If Makarov's there, he'll be in that control room."

Price motions at Gadget, who nods and stubs out her cigarette before typing quickly.

"What is this you're sending me?"

"Equipment list." Price answers simply. Gadget's already lighting another cigarette.

"That's a lot a' hardware John. What did you plan on doin'?"

"What you taught me to do… Kill 'em all."

Baseplate laughed. "I always liked that about you, John. You know how to sell your cause. I can secure clearance and make sure nobody bothers you while you work up there, but I'm afraid the equipment list is beyond my reach."

"I can get you that." Hawkins leans over Gadget's shoulder, reading through the list and nodding to himself. "Easy."

[[END Transmission]]

"But—"

"It's out of the question, Sergeant."

"Don't try and pull rank here, Price. We're disavowed! We don't exist!"

"That doesn't matter! We still need to think practically. You and Ghost will stay here. Yuri and I will take the castle. Nikolai will be our exfil. No arguments."

But, Gadget, Ghost, and Terrance all have arguments. And they all blurt them out simultaneously.

"That's totally out of the question—"

"I'm not here to sit back and relax while—"

"You're not going in there without me!"

Price cuts them all off with a meaningful glare. "We can't all go. This is a two-man job. You two have been out of action for a year. We can't go in there with guns blazing and expect to make it out alive! We have to be smart about this. Gadget, Ghost… I'm sorry. But this is one we need you back here for. You're skills will be put to better use when gathering information via your computers. Terrance, Hawkins, I need you to stay here. I'm sure you understand."

That settles it. Disregarding all other arguments, he brushes by them and goes to kit up.

Terrance swears and kicks the nearby table of maps and schematics, sending papers and pens flying. Sticky notes flutter through the air like ridiculously yellow butterflies. They scatter over the floor. One sweeps next to Gadget's feet, resting just near the edge of her toe. She bends down and retrieves the slip. 'Kill Makarov' it reads in big letters written in red permanent marker. With a snarl, she crushes it in her hand and tosses it away. Kill Makarov. If only she could…

The four left behind draw quietly away from eachother. Gadget closes herself in the bathroom. Ghost drifts into the den and flops onto the couch. Terrance starts up a rousing game of solitaire. Steven sits back in awe. That's it?

[ERROR~]