Holidays! Hope you all had a good Thanksgiving. That is if you even bother celebrating it ;)

Chapter 21 - Soldiers Make Great Actors

A man of decent height with dark, broad features stared profoundly towards the Echo commander, Camilla Bernadette, and Darkhorse team leader Samson Dresden, with his new commander, John Price, standing nearby. Thorsten Lemann had unfortunately passed shortly after the seemingly successful find in the Tulum copper mine. His death immediately signaled for Price's debrief and promotion into the Darkhorse commander. All eyes were on the espresso skinned man with deep brown eyes and a stern expression.

Camilla finally shot her sharp eyes up in the man's direction. "Mr. Derek Brown. Are you all ready?"

"Yes, ma'am." He replied firmly, a faint southern accent laced his words.

"Good. Physically and mentally?" She asked.

He paused momentarily in thought before answering. "Yes, ma'am."

Camilla murmured something quietly before continuing. "As you see here, we have two of your fellow Darkhorse team before you here today. Team leader Samson Dresden is your superior, and your commander is this older...gentleman, John Price. You respect them and listen to anything they tell you. You'll meet your other co-workers shortly once we dock and return you all to Mexico. Understand?"

Price sent her a quick quizzical stare as Derek nodded.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Terrific. So I'll be giving you a quick debrief before Price takes over to fill you in on everything you'll be handling from here on out. Any questions?" She questioned with keen eyes.

"No, ma'am."

She nodded in approval before she returned to speaking. "Name: Derek Brown. Birthday: September 14, 1987. Height: 185 cm. Weight: 88 kg. You were born and raised in Elberton, Georgia. Once you graduated high school you joined the military and seeked your calling in the United States Marine Corp. from there, you became a soldier in the 2nd Combat Engineer Division. Anything sound incorrect thus far?"

Derek shook his head. "No ma'am. You have it all down."

She sniffed and looked back down at her tablet. "After four years serving the Marines as a combat engineer, you were in close enough proximity of an I.E.D. one of your fellow engineers had unsuccessfully dismantled resulting in your discharge after receiving a nasty leg injury. That took place in Afghanistan. Afterwards, during your medical evaluations, they discovered you were suffering from migraines."

"Yes, ma'am. Needed skin grafts and tissue reconstruction afterwards. Migraines are scarce, but I'm all better now." He commented smoothly.

"Well, enough to become employed by TTF. We love misfits. Especially unwanted ones." She muttered as she glanced up and met his eyes. "Welcome aboard. Your commander will take over from here and fill you in with the necessary information. Good luck . And Price, I need to speak with you an Samson once you're finished up here."

"Copy that." Price affirmed with a raspy voice before glancing at Derek Brown. Once their eyes met, Derek gestured his head at the old man. "So, Brown, I think you'll highly enjoy yourself once you get your feet wet. You've joined us at an interesting time."

"How so, sir?" Derek asked.

Samson had to sigh with an exhausted exhale. "Things are getting hairy. We've taken on the task of uncovering information on a growing drug lord threat in Cuba. The Vasquez family. American government didn't want to get involved with it all because there wasn't too many variables contributing that would make Vasquez appear to be a much bigger problem than anticipated."

Derek looked over the men with growing concern. "So where do I come in?"

Price intertwined his slender, but defined, arms over his chest. "We needed some more specialty within our group. Someone who could sap enemy equipment, deactivate explosives, repair damaged gear, and breach thicker structures. There's been some news of an upcoming event that we need to get in to. You're going to assist us with this little project. Camilla needs us, so we'll find you afterwards to get you necessarily prepared. For now, start getting acquainted with some of the Talon crew onboard this vessel."

A thought suddenly occurred to Samson. "But before we go, is there something you'd rather go by other than your birth name?"

"Like...a nickname?" Derek questioned with a wide-eyed expression.

"Yep." Samson confirmed,

The combat engineer rolled an imaginary object around in his mouth as he pondered. "Well sir...I went by 'Thumper' in the Marine Corp."

"Thumper it is then. Go see if any of the crew needs a set of extra hands and we'll see you shortly." Samson replied.

Derek nodded in understanding as Price and Samson turned in search of Camilla who they quickly spotted off near the top deck railing. She motioned for them to speed up their strides. Once at the top, the men waited patiently for her words to slip out between parted lips.

"How is he? Brown?" She finally inquired.

"He'll do." Price responded.

"Good enough." She straightened her posture. "As you two know a tad bit about, Ricardo Gomez has contacted us again. He was invited to a cocktail party Arsenio and Fernando Vasquez are hosting at their villa in Cuba. He's willing to get some of your men in there...for a price of course."

Both Price and Samson perked up. "A party? What will you have us do?"

Camilla blinked a thoughtful stare in their direction. "We need more information. We've updated the American government with the recent findings from the copper mine. They need more information before the U.N. can get involved. That's where all of you come in."

"Cut to the chase Bernadette." Price demanded flatly.

"You need to work on your patience, you grumpy, old man." She barked back causing Price to grumble with disinterest. "You know how this 'Hernandez' name is starting to surface all over the place now?" The two men nodded. "Those crates in that mine had 'Hernandez' stamped all over them as the sender. And get this, Gomez has informed us that Vasquez, especially Arsenio, is starting to become rather enraged with recent unfortunate events that have been plaguing their business. There's some rumors Hernandez is starting to pull-out some of their cartel due to all of this unwanted attention Vasquez has been is going to be desperate for a new supplier."

"Did Gomez tell you all of that?" Samson questioned with intrigue.

"Most of it. But my team and I did some research ourselves. Trying to get any kind of lead on this 'Hernandez' family. We've been digging through police reports and crime records hoping to stumble upon something of value. Turns out, 'Hernandez' is a pretty common name. But...with the help from the Rodriguez girl you all stumbled upon, we were able to find something of interest. Take a look." Camilla pulled out the tablet before them and uploaded some pictures and documents onto the sheen screen.

Soon enough, a picture of a man with profoundly, dark eyes, a cunning smile, earlobe length hair, three tear-drop tattoos by his left eye, and a deep scar that ran across his neck, appeared before their faces and onto the screen.

"Well, would you look at that." Samson muttered with awe as Price gawked with observant eyes.

Camilla shrugged. "Alberto Hernandez. Just was on trial on a case of homicide involving a prostitute. He matches the physical description Rodriguez provided you all. Perhaps it's a coincidence, perhaps not. But either way it's a potential valuable find." She shot a finger into the air as if a thought occurred to her. "But shortly after his trial, Gomez contacted us with information about the party Vasquez is hosting in Cuba. Then, to top it off, this Hernandez supplier is apparently becoming wary of maintaining business ties with Vasquez and the rumor of Vasquez losing the contract is all but coincidence."

Price was nodding smoothly. "Right. So what about this cocktail party ordeal and how my men are potential 'guests'?"

"I was just getting to that." Camilla cleared her throat. "As I said before, Vasquez will be desperate for a supplier, and...well, let's just say we vaguely know of a supplier from the U.K. that Vasquez may be willing to strike a deal with. We need one of your men to go in as a representative for the 'Danbury' supplier in the U.K. All of this will obviously be staged, so that means once we get what we need, we're pulling you all out to assign you to a new problem after we hand off Vasquez to the U.N...I hope your men can act."

Soap picked at his nails with his combat knife and watched Rico closely as she polished her rifle and ridded the surface of any dirt or dust. On occasion, she would glance up at him and smile faintly. He was too lost in thought to be aware of all of his surroundings. Recent events that had just unfolded brought a tidal wave of chaos and uncertainty. This once seemingly inadequate drug cartel fiasco had evolved into a multi-billion dollar business trade, with Vasquez as one of the head distributors and a sea of mysterious contacts, buyers, sellers, and resources sitting shortly below.

She looked back up at him and had to finally raise a brow. "You alright? You seem to be stuck on a staring fit."

Realizing where his line-of-sight had been resting, he let his eyes widen slightly and his lips part. "Do what?"

"I asked if you were alright. You've been staring at me for the past five minutes."

He let his shoulders relax as he shook his head clear of any distractions. "No, I'm fine. Just dwelling on all of this Vasquez shite." He sighed and stared down at the combat knife he held in his hand. "Shite just keeps hitting the fan. I'm starting to wonder at what point do we realize we bit off more than we can chew."

She blinked at him and closed her mouth, letting the rifle balance gently in her palms. "I don't think any of us here even had one figment of an idea of exactly how large Vasquez has become." She shrugged. "TTF never would have even let us get this far if they had known everything."

His light eyes rolled back up to find her. "The more we learn, the more names we come by. It's all over Europe. Got one seller in the U.K., two in Italy, another in France and Spain, two in Russia, and there's even a chance it's spread into Africa." His thumb felt the ridge of the knife. "These fuckers are experts at their profession. There's a reason all of this was left unbenounced to us. It's because they covered their arses and put incriminating facts onto competitors."

"So what then? Now that you've been promoted to a team captain, you clearly are permitted to more information sharing than I am. So where do we stand in all of this?"

"Well," he sat back against the chair, "I can tell you we have immersed ourselves into waist-high shite. Now we're stuck in the middle. There's speculation that they're on to us, in the sense that they now have become aware that the recent troubles they've ran into were all caused by the same group of people, which happens to be TTF."

She lowered her brow with concern. "You make it sound like they know exactly who we are."

"Not yet, they don't" He replied as he pulled at his mouth in a stressed manner. "The point I'm making is that these cocksuckers know how to put the pieces together and they have done that a long time ago. They're on edge, they're extra cautious, and I think now is the best time to back out and get the U.N. involved." He exhaled through his nose. "But perhaps I'm being too much of a coward to fully commit."

"I don't think being well-aware of the situation and consequences make someone a coward." She brought herself up from the ground, bringing her rifle with her. His eyes followed her as she stood. "So you think this is about to explode?"

He paused momentarily to think before responded. "Do I? Aye. But that might be from me making judgments based upon my past experiences. I would be a liar if I said I wasn't paranoid."

She nodded slowly. "Everyone here can understand that."

His eyes remained focused; they were always so reflective and observant. It was obvious his mind was full of a plethora of thoughts. Once she began to make a gesture indicating her movement for the entrance to the tent, he stopped her. "Leaving?"

She stopped in her tracks to look over her shoulder at him. "You know what I need? To clear my mind. I'm going to set my rifle down and go for a walk." Her eyes glimmered in the light from outside. "Want to join me?"

His head perked up at the invitation; it was compelling and welcoming. Bringing himself out of the chair, he nodded at her. "Sure."

Smiling at him, she moved for the outside world with him following shortly behind. Once to the tent she shared with the other women, he waited patiently for her outside while she went to return her APR back to its case under her cot. He scanned the bright space around him and felt the sun's rays warming his body. She was quick to return to his side, where he gestured for her to lead the way.

Moving past the tents and out into a clearing, she motioned towards a distant hill. "Great view of Merida up there. Lovely little spot. I found it the other day."

"Getting accustomed to the area?"

She shrugged. "I'm enjoying the warm weather. But I'm also getting bored with the same scenery. I'm not loving the camp too much."

"Too bland for your preference." He commented.

Blinking at him, she smirked. "Yeah, I guess so. I suppose my main issue is the space we have to work with in camp. It's much more cramped and I feel like we're stuck in this little bubble. So…"

"So you wander off without telling anyone where you went off to." He stated with his deep voice. He met up with her eyes before she rolled them and looked straight ahead.

"I'm detecting that tone you get."

He smiled faintly. "What's the tone?"

"The tone has this underlying, cheekiness to it." She shook her head. "Like you just think you're so smart and clever."

"I actually know I'm smart and clever."

She glanced back at his face only to be met with a delicate smirk which she could tell he was trying to keep hidden. "Some people refer to that as condescending."

He had to chuckle. "Right."

"Might explain why Shorty is spiteful towards you." Her smile remained shining blissfully on her face. He could see the corners pulling at her pink cheeks.

"She's probably just jealous."

Rico had to take a moment to laugh. "That is exactly it. I believe we just discovered the source of the problem between you two." She brought herself up the hill, letting her legs do the work and her upper body hang over the center of her gravity.

He watched her rear work before finding the back of her head. "The source being her inability to accept I'm better than her."

"In every way, shape, and form, right?"

"Aye." He replied. "Especially the athletic portion of me. That really grinds her gears."

They reached the top of the hill in time for Rico to emit an amused giggle. "You know, I had you all wrong."

He approached her with curiosity. "Oh?"

"Yeah," she nodded with a smile. "Here I was thinking you were this modest, sweet guy, but in actuality, you're this pompous ass."

"Hey now, I'm just trying to fit in around here." He responded. Each of their tones came out in an entertained and teasing manner.

She smiled widely before crossing her arms under her breasts and peering off towards a nearby tree. She gestured her head at it. "That's a beautiful Jacaranda tree." The tall tree was flourishing in purple-tinted flowers.

"Good way to change the topic." He followed her stare and met up with the charming, blooming tree. He nodded his head in agreement. "It is a rather nice tree."

Looking back up at him, she shielded her eyes from the sun. "So how is this 'captain' status treating you so far? I can tell being captain for two days has already made you power-hungry." A smile grew across her face again.

"You know, I'm starting to wonder if both of our tones are ever going to get the chance to not come out facetiously."

Her eyes gazed up at him. "Well, you are trying to 'fit in', remember?"

"Ah, right. Almost forgot."

She chuckled at him. "The tone is still present."

His full lips curved into a faded smirk as he gestured his arm out towards the tree. "Want to sit?"

Pondering over it briefly, she finally agreed. "Yeah, that sounds nice."

The two of them ambled towards the tree before allowing their rears to find the grass. Both of their eyes found the distant canopy and peaks of Merida. Birds took to the sky and bugs buzzed around in the horizon. Taking a moment to absorb everything, they sat silently.

After a short moment had passed, she looked at his profile. "So, is it nice right now not having Price watching your every movement?"

Keeping his eyes on the distant image, he bobbed his head. "It is rather pleasant not having him swooping around like a hawk." He finally peered over at her. "I enjoy the old man but it's still nice to get a break from time to time from his commandeering presence."

"He's so intimidating."

"That he is." Soap sighed. "But I have him figured out now."

"So you've already solved the mystery of Mr. John Price?"

"Aye." He replied before glancing at her. "This may come as a surprise, but he's human like the rest of us."

"Oh thank God. I was beginning to worry that he was an incognito Terminator."

He chuckled. "Well, he may be human but he still does have those robot mechanics."

She peered back at the skyline as his eyes found her chest again, causing his thoughts to shift quickly away from the image of Price and onto something much different. He found her soft face again and locked onto her eyes which were back to staring him down. The man had hoped she didn't manage to catch him in the staring act again. Thanks to Trevor, he was now aware of how bad he had become with little to no practice over the past six years. His profession as an elite soldier didn't require him to become acquainted with women, rather, taught him how to be disciplined, obedient, and focused on a goal. But his current short-term goal was not focused on Vasquez and the drug cartel, rather something else.

Her eyes had caught the tail-end of the trail his light irises had taken and were now locked onto his face. From afar, he appeared rough and battle-hardened. Bearing rugged features, scars, and a stare that could kill. But as one neared, his expression softened and his features rounded, giving him a very kinder sort of appearance. His eyes were warming and relaxing, his lips and skin-tone gained color, and his attractiveness became apparent.

She bit her lip and tucked her knees under her dainty chin as a tingling sensation began to relish in her core. She couldn't ignore how apparent their privacy had become.

He noticed her shift in posture, and the energy field around her seemed to emit a sparkle. "You cold?"

"No. I'm fine." She had to move her eyes away from his as she sighed. "Just thinking."

"About what?"

"Just everything going on."

He let a brief interval of stillness fall between them as he gazed into her face to get a read off of her. His brow relaxed in thought. "I know what you're thinking about."

Her eyes widened in wonderment as she glanced at him. "Oh yeah? How sure are you?"

He gestured his head at her. "Pretty sure. I recognize these mannerisms from somewhere."

She could only blink at him in confusion.

"You're getting coy." He leaned in slightly. "You've gotten bashful only one other time."

She swallowed hard as she pondered over his words. "Well...aren't you just the perfect little detective."

He shrugged. "That or you're obvious."

She had to crunch her nose up. "You're not one to talk, Mr. Tit Gawker."

He looked ahead and smirked. "Right. I guess that means my gig is up."

Her lips pursed as she slowly brought herself closer. Immediately, he felt her presence nearing. Soap sat silently with a placid stare as his heart began to pick up its pace. Once she was close enough he turned to face her; she froze from the movement. Their noses were inches apart as they stared deeply into their blue-hued orbs.

Not wanting to blow the moment and allow for her to turn away, his large hand rose up to find the side of her face. His fingers moved some fallen hair out from her eyes as she blinked up at him. He looked down at her lips before bringing them into his. Her eyes fluttered closed as his lips caressed against hers. The softness persuaded her into parting them to permit his tongue entry. His tongue felt around her mouth and danced with her tongue. A soft mutter emitted from her mouth into his.

He turned himself completely towards her as a hand landed against the ground to balance his weight. He began to push into her, as her upper body went back, his free hand lowered from her face and braced her arm to pull her in. Her upper back found the trunk of the tree as the kiss intensified and their hearts continued to race. His lips parted from hers as they moved towards her neck to plant and lace her skin with damp breath and moist lips. She bit back a moan as her breathing picked up at the feel of his tongue brushing against her neck.

Both of his arms were now adjacent to the ground, hands keeping him in place, as his chest began to press against her. Her hand ran through his hair as she bit at his ear. Growing aroused, his hand moved away from the ground and began to fondle her left breast. She rose her hips up in attempts to press her pelvic bone against his erection that she knew was beginning to push against his pants. Feeling her trying to move closer, he straightened up to look her in the eyes as his arm lifted her up and moved her back completely parallel to the trunk of the tree. She was quick to open her legs up and bring him in closer.

Before their lips met again, she whispered near his ear. "This is fun."

The way she said it made the ends of his mouth curl up in excitement as he began to press up against her pelvis. She couldn't resist grinding into him; back and forth against his shaft that continued to push harder and harder into his pants.

Suddenly, Soap's pocket began to ring softly and vibrate against his thigh. They both froze and pulled back to look at each other just before Soap's hand found the indention of his phone in his pants. They both straightened up as he removed the phone to glance at the number. It was Price.

Answering it, he spoke into the device. "Yes?"

He immediately heard the old man's raspy voice. "Soap. How are things holding up on your end?"

"Just fine, sir."

"Good. We got our combat engineer. We should be back by 1900. Make sure the entire camp doesn't have a meltdown before we get back."

"Why would that happen?" Soap questioned with mild intrigue.

"Because Reggie and Shorty know I'm not there."

Soap had to chuckle lightly at the reply before letting his brow lower in minor concern. "Right. I'll stay on them."

"Also," Price began, "we need to have a brief discussion over some matters."

"About what?"

"About a recent event that just unfolded that involved some Darkhorse members. You in particular. Actually, just you."

Soap sat silently for a moment as he glanced at Rico who was now cocking her head at him.

"And what would those events be pertaining to, sir?"

Price cleared his throat. "It was something Camilla brought to my attention. We'll discuss it later once we return. As for now, make sure no one is getting injured or convicted of any crimes."

"Ok?" Soap said with confusion in his words.

"Stay sharp." Price commented before hanging up.

Soap brought the phone down from his ear and peered at the screen with a flattened brow.

"What was that about?" Rico asked softly.

He could only blink at the screen before putting it away. "We need to get back to camp. I suddenly have a feeling in my stomach that is telling me we should."

She stared into his face for a moment before opening her mouth to speak. "Alright. You're the captain now. So what you say, goes." Her tone was back to containing those teasing words.

His eyes found her and her faint smile. "Hm. Well, maybe we finish up what we started here then we can-" He suddenly paused in thought.

Glancing around with bewilderment, she felt obligated to say something. "What's wrong?"

He craned his neck and peered over his broad shoulder towards camp. "Do you smell smoke?"

Realizing what he said, her eyes widened slightly. "Yes. I do. What is that?"

Soap brought himself up from the ground and looked out over the landscape. "Son of a-I think the fucking camp is on fire."

Quickly bringing herself onto her feet, she followed his eyes. "Seriously?"

He tapped her arm and started to amble off swiftly. "Let's get back."

They both jogged off back the way they came and for the camp where they spotted a faded stream of smoke climbing towards the sky.

Once they reached the camp, they immediately noticed the front panel of a tent was on fire. Soap ran up to a Talon member who was gesturing with irritation.

"What the fuck is going on?" Soap demanded deeply.

The man looked back at him with an annoyed expression. "Reginald-your dumb pilot-made a flamethrower out of a blowtorch and a can of air and lit the damn tent on fire."

Reggie suddenly became visible as he threw his hands into the air. "I did not!"

"Yes you did!" The Talon soldier yelled back.

"It was Shawn testing out my flamethrower but it wasn't me!" Reggie shouted.

Shawn instantly shot Reggie a look of disapproval. "You fucking ass. No I didn't. I fucking watched you light the corner of the tent on-"

"Enough! Just put the fucking thing out! Price is going to wring all of your necks when he gets back. Now move your fucking arses." Soap ordered, voice carrying over everyone's words.

Rico had to place a hand over a widening smile at the image of Reggie staring blankly at Soap as the man from Talon sighed loudly and paced off in search of a hose. Soap had to glare at Reggie at he stomped for the slender man.

"Oh hey!" Reggie said with a wide grin. Soap's large hand found the back of his neck as he squeezed tightly. "Um. Ow."

"What the fuck were you trying to do?" Soap questioned lowly.

Reggie crunched up his nose and brought his shoulders up. "Making a homemade flamethrower."

Soap let go of Reggie's neck and pushed him off towards where the Talon member had ran off to. "Well, go help put out the fire, you bloody eijit."

"Ask politely…"

"Fucking GO!" Soap yelled at him.

"Fine!" Reggie replied before ambling off in search of a water source.

Shorty and Trevor watched the scene unfold as someone began to hose the tent. They shared a bag of popcorn and munched with content.

"Price is going to murder all of us." Trevor stated calmly.

"Oh well. At least we will all die laughing." She replied in entertainment.

As the tent received a blast of water and the flames began to disintegrate and fade away, the front end caved in and went flat against the ground. Soap had to place his face in a palm while a few others watched the mess unfold.

Once the ordeal began to gain some mild form of promising sense of organization and resolution, Soap grabbed everyone's attention.

"Alright. Everyone, get your fucking arses over here, now."

"Ask politely…" Reggie said a second time.

Soap simply shot daggers towards Reggie as the Talon member from before tossed a thick blanket over the smoldering tent.

"We got to clean this catastrophe up this instant. I don't want Price getting back and instantly be welcomed by a singed tent. So, we're all going to gather up and straighten the disaster out, erect a new tent, and pretend none of this happened. You all copy?" Soap spoke sternly after everyone in the immediate area came together.

"Heh. Erect." Shawn commented lightly.

"Copy?" Soap asked a second time. The growing seriousness in his voice caused everyone to nod swiftly in understanding. "Good. Now let's act like we all know how to be civilized and well-rounded individuals, and clean this shite up."

With that, everyone scattered to put up the hose, clean up the destroyed tent, and replace the tent's bones with a new canopy and new footings. And it was all done by the time Price and Samson returned to camp with the new team member. Thumper was quickly introduced to everyone, his warming, white smile left everyone pleased with the addition.

"Yay! More diversity!" Reggie cheered from his spot near Trevor.

Thumper peered at him and had to chuckle lightly. Samson immediately shook his head while Price shot Reggie an annoyed stare.

"Well, there ARE a lot of whities here…" Thumper commented as he looked over everyone's face.

"The Scotsman was the closest thing we had to a black man, he unfortunately wasn't ghetto enough." Reggie stated with his usual tone.

Thumper immediately looked towards Soap with a grin. "This one?"

"Reggie. Shut up." Soap barked. "No one here is tolerant of your bollocks right now."

Before anyone could say anything, Samson furrowed his brow and stared at the ground. "Why is it so muddy through here?" He asked as he peered up at the group.

Everyone fell silent as they all pondered deeply over a potential excuse.

"I had to bathe Gretel again. She got dirty." Rico was quick to make the statement.

Samson nodded slowly as Price looked over the damage.

"Looks like you were having trouble figuring out how to keep the water contained to one space." Price observed with a flat tone.

"Well, she is a bit energetic." Rico replied.

Price sniffed and scratched his nose before looking towards Soap and motioning for him. "Follow me, son. There's something we need to discuss."

Soap blinked after him while he followed the old man's footsteps. "Alright...lead the way."

Samson trailed the two men and after a short walk, the three of them entered the briefing tent.

The old man sighed and took a seat as he began to skim through a set of papers out before him. Samson found a comfortable spot near the corner and shot Soap a content stare.

Price finally looked up and narrowed his eyes at Soap. "There's been a problem that has surfaced. And I just want to address it now before it potentially develops into a bigger problem."

Soap swallowed hard. His thoughts immediately went to him and Ricochet. He grew nervous that somehow someone discovered them and had given them up. Knowing the penalties and the rules that TTF had established, he knew that if his actions were discovered he could be into some deep trouble. But he couldn't figure out how anyone would have known.

"What happened?" Soap finally asked, not quite knowing how to word the question.

Samson sighed. "Look, I'm not good at addressing problems. I hate doing it. I personally don't have a problem with what you did. But the rest of the TTF does."

Soap's eyes looked from Samson to Price with confusion. "What did I do?"

Samson stared with warm eyes as Price decided to speak up. "You paralyzed someone from the waist down, son."

Somehow that news made him settle down a bit. He felt like he could talk his way out of this problem, but not the things he had started with Rico. "Well, shite."

"And another needed to visit the dentist to get his jaw realigned." Price commented as he looked down at a paper. "Oh, and another needed to set up a plastic surgeon appointment, whereas the other needed to get his knee popped back into place." Price lowered the paper with faint smile. "Sounds like something you'd do."

Samson nodded. "Yeah, no good. We don't condone civilian injuries. However," he straightened his posture and raised a finger. "Once I heard about it, I immediately asked for more information.

Everyone obviously defended your actions. I don't think you did anything wrong. They had it coming. Unfortunately, TTF doesn't quite understand that, and they only look at the major details, forgetting to consider every variable. Typical. But they're just giving us a friendly warning. We've covered your ass. No big deal."

Soap nodded and exhaled through his nose. He didn't have much to say.

"Just...avoid breaking someone's lower back next time. The other injuries are…more justifiable. But paralysis...it's harder to wave off."

"He hit me with a chair." Soap stated.

Samson couldn't help but smirk. "Again, they deserved it. But just watch it next time. Because there will most likely be a next time. Just save the permanent damages for the bad guys."

Soap understood the dilemma and didn't see a need to press for more information.

Before he rose to leave, Price looked up and shot him an intense stare. "One more thing we need to cover. We need Weiss in here as well. There's an event coming up that will be requiring you two to collaborate together."

"Oh?" Soap raised a dark eyebrow. "How so?"

Price waved him off. "We'll get to that in a second. First we need Weiss in here."

Samson straightened his posture to leave the tent in search of Rico. Soap and Price were left alone where they immediately immersed themselves in small talk until Samson returned with the blonde-haired woman.

Rico entered the tent after Samson parted the entrance. She looked over the three men's faces and had to wonder. "What's the news?" She inquired without hesitation.

"Sit." Price motioned towards an empty chair.

She paused momentarily before taking a seat near Soap. Both of them stared towards the old man who watched them closely from over a desk.

Price abruptly sighed and leaned forward. "Ricardo Gomez got back in touch with us. Says there's a cocktail party coming up that the Vasquez brothers are hosting at their villa in Cuba. We need to get you two in there."

Rico immediately rose her hands up. "Hold the phone. You want us two-" she pointed towards herself then Soap, "-to walk right into the hornet's nest and are expecting us not to get our heads blown off on the spot?"

Samson was quick to reply. "Well, yes and no."

Soap peered over at the green-eyed man. "That doesn't sound reassuring."

"We need you two undercover. We need to acquire some final bits of information about Vasquez and their involvement with Hernandez before the U.N. has enough evidence to swoop in, allowing us to be taken off the case." Samson spoke with a calming voice.

Rico and Soap shot each other a quick glance before Soap picked back up where they left off. "Alright. So what's the plan? What will you have us two do and how are we most qualified?"

"I need a soldier in there who can handle any sort of obstacle-that'd be you, Soap-and I need someone else in there to help you blend in." Price spoke hoarsely.

"Blend in? How am I supposed to help him blend in?" Rico questioned.

Samson rose his hands up. "Here. Let us just lay out everything for you two." He inhaled deeply and took a second to gather his thoughts before continuing. "So, it turns out Hernandez is one of Vasquez's suppliers, and because of the Hernandez involvement, Vasquez has recently started dabbing into some human trafficking. And that right there explains what we found in that copper mine. Then...then we have Gomez who apparently received some invites to a cocktail party the Vasquez brothers are hosting in Cuba. A bunch of fellow gang members, contacts, suppliers, distributors...pretty much anyone who has some sort of business ties with Vasquez, will be there."

"And you want me and the lass here to just march in and play it off as if we belong there?" Soap questioned deeply.

"To an extent." Price began, drawing everyone's attention to him. "There's a supplier in the U.K. that Vasquez will be interested in striking a deal with due to his recent...troubles with his cartel. All of this attention Vasquez has received is scaring Hernandez away. Hernandez wants to cease business with Vasquez. So, Soap," Soap and Price's eyes locked onto each other, "I need you to play the role of a representative to the Danbury supplier in the U.K. We need you to establish faux business relations with Vasquez and obtain the last bit of information we need. That information will seal the deal and allow us to finalize all of the Vasquez bollocks we've gotten wrapped up in."

Soap nodded slowly as Rico lowered her brow. "So, where do I fall in on all of this?" She asked.

Samson looked at her with intelligent eyes. "You're acting as Soap's German wife. We need you practicing a German dialect and freshening up your skill with the language. Soap, you're now Michael Blair, and Rico, you're Agatha Blair, his lovely, German wife."

Immediately, Soap and Rico's face went blank before Rico was nearly shaking her head clear of any disbelief. "Wait one second! How much of this have you all already developed?"

"Pretty much all of it. Your invitations are already being forged." Price stated flatly.

Rico sat back against her chair. "We're so dead…"

Soap furrowed his brow in thought. "I'm still having some trouble understanding all of this."

"We'll explain more as the party nears. It takes place on a Saturday in two weeks. You two will be entering completely unarmed. But, we're working on setting up some of Talon's team throughout the area. Some will be valet, a few will be inside acting as waiters and waitresses, and we have a few working on posing as a pest control before the day of the party where they will then rig up cameras and hide the gear you'll be needing, Soap." Samson explained.

"Wait, what do I get?" Rico asked with growing awe.

Samson had to look at her in mild disappointment. "Sorry, hon. You're still going to be unarmed once you two get inside. It's much harder to hide a sidearm underneath a cocktail dress than it is to hide in a suit. We need you to distract the Vasquez brothers. Start up a conversation. They're known for loving the ladies."

"Seriously?" Rico said back with a growing attitude. All of the men looked towards her with mild confusion. "My role is German eye candy? Are we all high and no one told me?"

"Hey, hey...it's the best we can do right now. We need this to be as low-profile as possible. Soap needs to sneak off after you two obtain small radio earpieces from one of the Talon members posing as a waiter. Trust me, Echo and Talon are really developing this plan. We're going to make sure you're both safe. Plus the two weeks will give you both time to prepare and recharge." Samson commented. "We'll be on standby at all times in a neighboring district. There's a main stretch of roads that the villa extends from. I can assure you things will work out smoothly. So long as we have everyone onboard and fully understanding the circumstances."

Soap and Rico sat in silence for a moment, both feeling rather dumbfounded and overwhelmed by the information. They could only hope and pray that everything truly would transition smoothly, and without any damages.