If you see dialogue inside [ ], then all that means is that it's not in English. I'm not dancing the Google Translate Tango for this. This also applies for all future chapters.

"So Captain, this is your second trip to Azerbaijan?" Hurricane asked from the cockpit.

MacTavish pulled himself from a convoluted train of thought that mainly centered on his current predicament, and looked to the backs of the pilot seats. "Aye, the SAS were sent to collect Al-Asad for interrogation."

For a majority of this time, Scarab had been quiet. It wasn't like Ghost, who simply would rather sit back and relax during a long helicopter ride. She just didn't seem willing to chime in unless other people were talking. So, once there was a hint of a conversation started, she asked next, "How did that work out?"

"Messy. We were in some tiny town, had to fight up hill to find him and hold that position for extraction, only to get told that the LZ had to change to the bottom of the hill where we started." Such a painful assignment. Not to mention Mac... He never made it home and his family never heard the real story. On bad nights, MacTavish sometimes woke in a cold sweat with those last, pained words he'd said over the comms ringing in his ears. He continued, "Al-Asad never left there alive either, my Captain at the time made sure of that."

The topic died after that. They still had time before they reached their destination, so MacTavish thought it best to review the mission details with Scarab before they got there. While they could sneak into the base properly, blow up the weapons cache and steal the shipment manifest, they had a back up plan in case one or both of them got captured. Nikolai would be able to let them loose so they could keep going.

She didn't ask any questions, so he assumed she understood it.

They reached the Drop Zone. While MacTavish landed just fine, Scarab must have listed off course slightly because she wound up stuck in a tree. He regarded her with amusement as she tugged and yanked on the emergency release, but to no avail. "Looks like you're in a snag, eh?"

Scarab huffed. "Yeah..." She pulled out her tactical knife and cut at the strings, finally landing on the ground, where she wrestled off the parachute harness. Together they pulled the chute out of the tree and tucked it out of sight. Landing gear concealed, they went on with their mission.

The first objective was to get into the base. The shipment should be in one of the warehouses.

"Bravo 6, this is Venom 1-2, there may be potential thunderstorms and crosswinds that'll be kicking up over the next several hours. We're going to land in Zone Charlie until it passes. If the storm's still going on by the time you need extraction, we'll be delayed in reaching you."

"Copy that."

The base was four klicks out from the DZ. Roughly 500 meters up a dirt slope was a road, and if they followed that, it would take them straight to said base. Since it was 23:00, there was less activity. Only two cars passed, and they were easy enough to spot and hide from by virtue of their headlights. By no means would this be a challenge for either of them.

About ten minutes into marching, the first droplets of rain fell. With a fitful rumble, the rain immediately picked up from a faint drizzle to a downpour. Another truck approached with its high beams like fog lamps in the heavy rain.

MacTavish pushed Scarab sideways off the road and into the underbrush so the car could pass. As the revving engine faded out along with the red glow of the tail lights, he sighed. His uniform was already soaked through... "Are we having fun yet?"

Having been pushed down to the ground, Scarab propped herself up to reveal her whole front (chest, neck, and chin) covered in mud. "Oodles..."

"Let's go-" MacTavish froze as he heard a very familiar sound just behind Scarab. The low reverb of an attack dog growling. In the dark and rain, he made out the jet black shape of a german shepherd behind her. It's head low and ears pinned as it bore stark white teeth. Scarab peeked back over her shoulder and also gave pause. MacTavish spoke as quietly as he could. "Don't move. The moment we try and run, it'll lunge at us. We'll back up, nice and easy."

If it was a military dog, why hadn't it attacked them?

Actually it hadn't barked either to alert anyone.

Difficult as it was to see, he saw no indication of a collar or a harness on this dog. While he'd seen attack dogs without them before, they were almost never far from their handler. Between that and it not doing more than growl at them, it didn't seem unlikely that this was a stray.

"I have an idea," Scarab whispered and reached into one of her pouches. From it, she produced a pack of peanut butter crackers. The wrapper crinkled noisily as she tore it open and set a couple on the ground between them and this dog. "Okay, back up. Maybe it'll leave us alone if it's got a treat."

MacTavish nodded, at a loss for words. This pooch definitely wasn't a military dog. That much was clear as it stopped growling at them and curiously sniffed the crackers before eating them. The Captain wasted no time in scooting away from the dog, back on the cracked pavement, and got to his feet. "Jesus fucking Christ..." The dog continued to snack away, tail low and ears still back. It definitely seemed more comfortable now that there was a little distance between them and it.

The feeling was mutual.

Scarab left the last of the crackers on the ground for it and got up. "I take it your not a fan of dogs, Captain?"

"Not for a long time, no," MacTavish answered, stepping back to place a little more distance between them. "Let's go, we've still got the mission."

Nodding in agreement, Scarab followed behind him as they continued on their way to the base. As they walked though, said dog tailed them now too. Scarab probably smelled like peanut butter, if he had to take a guess. It didn't want to bite them. Actually, it seemed more curious than anything.

Now that he was able to get a better look at it, he couldn't help noticing that the dog wasn't neutered either. Odds were it was a stray. Friendly, but a stray nonetheless. After a little ways, Scarab had stopped again to let the dog sniff her hand and even managed to get it comfortable enough for her to pet it on the side. MacTavish pinched at the bridge of his nose. "I don't think we'll be able to take that dog home with us."

Scarab glanced up at him with sad eyes. Was she a dog now? What the hell was this? "But he's such a friendly boy."

"That thing'll blow our cover if we try to take it with us in the base. Sorry, but we have to leave it." MacTavish frowned and added firmly, "Just shoo it off."

He didn't know if he would've rather been bit by the damn thing and risked rabies over this. At least it wouldn't be a problem. Scarab nudged the dog away and shooed it off. This only made it keep a marginal distance though...

At this point, MacTavish just hoped that when they reached the base, this dog would be spooked off by all the people and commotion. It seemed skittish enough.

The base was lit with floodlights, making it stand out starkly in all the rain. A patrol rounded the perimeter every couple of minutes. Fortunately, this seemed like enough activity to spook the dog away, as it gave a few startled barks and ran off.

Of course, those startled barks drew attention directly on them.

MacTavish instinctively shoved Scarab out of sight, but it was too late for him. The patrol surrounded him and shouted to drop his weapons. He made eye contact with Scarab, who peaked from behind a tree, pleading for her to stay hidden. She bit her lip and slipped out of sight.

Complying with the guards, he set his rifle down and raised his hands. One of the guards grabbed his wrists and cuffed them in front of him. At least he didn't need to be concussed this time.

At least he had a fallback plan this time.

They marched him into the base, and to a small room where they stripped him of his communicator, side arms, and other equipment. Being soaked through, he left a puddle around the chair they pushed him in. In front of him was a plain white table and another empty seat. No signs of any cameras or microphones, as far as he could see. He slid his hand along the underside of the table, but felt no indication of any devices either.

The door opened and MacTavish nearly choked on his tongue when he immediately recognized the man who stepped in as Nikolai. He schooled his features to total neutrality. There couldn't be any indication anything was up.

"[If it isn't one of the Western Special Forces,]" Nikolai said in Russian. He immediately swapped to English. "We have been expecting you after the trouble in Germany."

MacTavish glanced to the little window on the side wall. A pair of men were observing their exchange. He spoke carefully. "Is that right?"

"[Yes.] Now, if you would cooperate, we can answer a lot of questions pain free." Nikolai took the opposite seat and steepled his fingers. "Tell me, [friend], what was your objective here?"

Nikolai or not, he couldn't answer that question. Not with observers. MacTavish stayed quiet and turned his gaze down to the table. The only sound was a steady dripping of water off his metal chair.

"We captured only you. Surely there were others. Where were they?" Nikolai prodded.

"I can't answer that."

"You can't, or you won't?"

"..."

"I am giving you a chance to make this painless for you," Nikolai asserted. "I strongly suggest you cooperate."

It was at that time that MacTavish felt a tap to the toe of his boot. A steady pattern that he quickly realized was Morse code. It was too quiet to hear, and with the table so close to the window, there was little chance that the two guards observing were aware of this covert game of footsie.

"K-e-e-p q-u-i-e-t. W-i-l-l u-n-l-o-c-k y-o-u a-t m-i-d-n-i-g-h-t."

The tapping stopped. MacTavish acted nonplussed, twiddling his thumbs and keeping his head low. "I can't answer your questions." As he pulled this act though, he tapped back on Nikolai's shoe.

"L-e-f-t o-n-e m-a-n. S-h-e m-a-y s-t-i-l-l p-r-o-c-e-e-d w o-b-j."

Nikolai's foot withdrew as he stood up. "Then I will need to prepare my tools. Sorry it needs to be this way, [friend.]" With that, he left.

If MacTavish had to guess what time it was by the time that line of questioning was up, it was probably 23:50. He sat, cool as could be given his circumstances. The two guards at the window left in a hurry, oddly enough. Outside in the hall, there was a lot of frantic Russian chatter that he couldn't quite make out through the door.

The door flew open, revealing Nikolai with a ring of keys and a box of equipment under his arm. He dropped the box on the table and went straight to unlocking the handcuffs. "We may have a problem, my friend. An intruder was spotted in one of the hangars. All available personnel were called to assist."

All available personnel? To capture one person? Specifically Scarab? What kind of hell was that woman raising in those ten minutes? MacTavish threw back on all the harnesses and gear in the box, then picked up his gun from the bottom of the box. "That's not good. Any idea what kind of trouble she's in?"

"None. The alert was to Hangar 2, where the weapon shipment was being stored." Nikolai equipped a P90 and led the way to the hangar. They were on the second floor, and ended up on a catwalk that overlooked the hangar.

Down by the large stacks of shipment crates, MacTavish spotted Scarab with a large number of enemies surrounding her. One shouted, "Drop your weapon!"

Nikolai did a double take. "Soap, you never mentioned this other man was a woman."

"Pretty sure I said 'she.'" MacTavish aimed his gun. Only then did he notice the soft blinking red lights from armed C4 on a number of the crates. Seemed she was carrying on with the mission and actually managed to plant the explosives. Good thing bullets wouldn't trigger them. That was less the issue and more the fact that there was no good way to thin out the ring of guards without one or more of them shooting her on sight and then turning on them. And if they kill her, they also have the detonator. "This is a fine mess she's gotten herself in though."

Scarab set her ACR down on the floor and raised her hands. One of the guards approached with handcuffs, and got the cuff around one wrist when she uppercut the poor bastard's jaw. His head snapped back and he went down like a fallen tree.

She flipped out her pistol and shot down the first few guards who raised their guns at her, then spun on her heels and kicked another guy in the neck, sending him stumbling. MacTavish and Nikolai gawked for a couple of seconds before firing at the other guards to cover her while she fought off the ones with her pistol and some impressive amount of martial arts prowess. She struck one man in the side of the leg, knocking him off balance so she could smack him with the handle of her pistol. When another guard came at her next, she spun on a dime and roundhouse kicked this poor sod in the face. She moved so fast that the guards who did fire at her couldn't actually get a hit.

Just when it seemed all clear, one guard leaped out from behind the stack of crates, a knife in hand. She took a cut to the ribs, but immediately caught his arm and broke his wrist over her knee. The scream that came from the man was absolutely brutal. She capped him with her pistol and picked up her rifle. Glancing their way, she asked, "You alright, Captain?"

Was he alright? As MacTavish and Nikolai ran down the metal stairs to get to her, he took in her sopping wet and mud covered clothes. The cut on her side let out a steady gush of blood that was mixing with the watery puddle at her feet. She was a mess and asking if he was alright? "I'm fine. We've got to leave before the rest of the base comes around."

"Wait, what about the manifest?" She asked.

Nikolai pulled a folded bunch of papers from his coat pocket. "Got it."

He was glad someone remembered, because given all the commotion, he wouldn't have thought twice about it until they were clear out of the base. "Then there's no need to stay. Out the door, move!"

The three of them ran out of the hangar, back into the storm. It hadn't let up any and made it nearly impossible to hear each other without the aid of their comms. They ducked behind jeeps and kept out of sight of the Ultranationalists headed towards the hangar to provide back up a tad too late. They sprinted out of the base before a proper search could be made for them and made for the treeline, where they couldn't be followed by any vehicles.

"Detonate the C4!" MacTavish ordered. They had definitely cleared the blast radius by now. Scarab fumbled out the detonator and clicked down the button. Behind them, the thunderous explosion sent up a mess of flaming debris and a pillar of fire they could see between the trees. There were probably a mess of grenades and other explosives in that weapons cache that went off with the C4. It was a pretty satisfying boom.

Scarab dropped the detonator and leaned against a tree, holding her ribs. "That was almost crazy bad..."

"Yeah. Once we get on the helicopter, we should be able to take a look at your side," MacTavish said. He then tried to radio in Venom 1-2 for evac.

The response he received was less than helpful. "Negative, Bravo 6. The tail rotor was damaged in the wind while we were flying. We don't stand a chance in this storm until its fixed. Recommend you find somewhere safe to sit tight."

MacTavish groaned. Just his luck.

"They mentioned that after you got caught..." Scarab mentioned.

"Any chance that you happen to have a helicopter stored somewhere nearby?" MacTavish asked Nikolai with the faintest, fleeting glimmer of hope that they wouldn't be stuck out here.

Nikolai shook his head. "I was undercover, and I do not trust our chances going back to the base to commandeer a plane."

It was a long shot.

"Then I guess we'll need to find a place to hole up," MacTavish conceded.

His friend nodded. "If we find the road, we could follow it to the next town. It's about six kilometers, if I am not mistaken."

Almost an hour of walking... It wasn't ideal, but it was better than standing in this is monsoon with their thumbs up their asses. Before they left, MacTavish did a very quick patch job on Scarab's ribs, but the bandage probably wouldn't hold between all the blood and rain. Scarab swore up and down that she'd be fine and able to keep up.

To her credit, she definitely did. Despite having the scramble through uneven forest terrain for a bit before they could reach the road, and the fast jog that was set after the fact, she kept pace remarkably well. While they hustled along, he stayed close to better keep an eye on her. She was breathing a bit rapidly, but seemed fine otherwise. Occasionally, he talked to her, if only to make sure she was still cognizant.

"I knew you had some high PFT scores, but that was some impressive fighting back there."

Scarab swallowed and puffed a couple breaths before replying, "Thanks."

"Was it Muay Thai?"

"Not exactly. It's kickboxing though."

When they reached this town Nikolai mentioned, it looked like about half of it was deserted and parts were utilized as some sort of checkpoint before people drove towards the base. There were a few small patrols, but nothing too difficult to dispatch. They entered one of the empty buildings and set up a small space in a second floor room. While the rain continued to pour outside, MacTavish got Scarab to sit still while he properly addressed the cut with what basic first aid skills he had.

Scarab stripped off the upper portion of her uniform down to a plain black sports bra. The cut itself was a few inches below her breast and wasn't particularly deep, but the knife must've opened something because it was bleeding pretty consistently and was about as long as his hand. The little trauma kits that are issued only go so far, with a small collection of gauze pads, a pressure bandage, and sterile gloves. It'd be enough to hold things shut until they could get a medic to properly stitch the thing shut.

Once he had it cleaned and dressed, he sat back on his heels and assessed his handiwork. He had to loop the pressure bandage around her torso. It'd restrict her breathing somewhat. "It's not too tight?"

She shook her head and tenderly tapped at the dressing, cringing as she did. "No. Thanks."

Outside, lightning flashed and lit up the dark room. There was no telling when the storm would let up. The rain and wind only seemed to pick up. It was going to be a long night.

{—To Be Continued—

Summary of Plan B Chapters 7, 8, and 9

7. Fly to mission. Scarab gets caught in a tree. Dog encounter. They sleep in the church tower.
8. Wake up. They enter a building, get caught. Soap is captured. Nikolai dicks with him as an interrogator before relaying the new plan.
9. Scarab trying to save Soap's ass. Nikolai busts Soap out. Scarab is caught, gets in a weight fight. Gets stabbed. Nikolai plants C4 while they escape to the helicopter. Soap tends to Scarab's stab. Nikolai blows the shit up, and flies them out.

A/N: Ho boy. Where to even begin with this one? In the original version, there was not one, not two, but FIVE unnecessary flashbacks that padded the narrative. They included relevant details such as:
-Soap had a dog as a kid who died apparently.
-Literally the last five minutes of MW, specifically that Loyalist giving Price CPR.
-Christmas time with the MacTavishes.
-Halloween with the MacTavishes.
-MacTavish's older brother falling off his bike and skinning his knee.
As quality as that content was, I needed to cut it. For time purposes. Yes...