"Who is this?"

"Prisoner 6-2-7." He answered lowly. "I'm coming for you, Makarov."

The terrorist's raspy voice responded. "Haven't you heard, Price. They say the war is over."

"My war ends with you."

"Like it ended for Captain MacTavish?" Makarov chuckled. "Tell me, Price. How long did it take him to die?"

With his jaw tightened and fist clenched, Price didn't answer. He begun to wonder if he gripped the phon any tighter, would it snap in his hand? For a long second, he fought to calm himself, looking to the black journal and dogtags on his desk. Soap's possessions. It made his heart tear just thinking of the life leave him. Then, fingers tightly grasping the red marker, he circled Makarov's location; Hotel Oasis. The Arabian Penninsula. If it weren't for the three and a half months of tracking then they probably wouldn't have the place.

"I've dystoried your world piece by piece." Makarov continued. "It's only a matter of time until I find you."

Voice like stone, Price replied. "You won't have to look far." And with that, he put the phone down and stared back at the map. "You might not have to look at all..."

He stood up from the desk and left his quarters, going straight to the hanger. The one place where he knew Nikolai would be. Of course, he found him, doing a check on a pavelow. When he saw Price coming, he smiled kindly.

"What did he say?" He asked, uncapping a bottle of water before taking a swig.

Price sighed, still thinking about the conversation. "Which one? MacMillian or Makarov?"

To this Nikolai did some off shoot of a spit take. He was about to exclaim something while he had water in his mouth but instead ended up choking on the liquid and letting it spill out past his lips with a string of Russian curses. After a coughing fit on the water he inhaled, he managed to finally say, "ARE YOU CRAZY? YOU CALLED MAKAROV?"

Price shook his head. "I might as well be. It's not that he knows that I know where he's currently hiding."

"What did he say?" Nikolai questioned, though wasn't exactly sure he was willing to hear the answer.

"I told him I was coming after him, and he tried to make me loose my composure..." Price sighed. "'It's only a matter of time until I find you', he had said." He himself was impressed with his immitation of Makarov. "I just said he wouldn't have to look far."

"In other words he now knows we're after him." Nikolai reworded.

"He would have found out anyways." Price pointed out. "The bastard's been able to run and hide for too long. We need to put an end to it."

Nikolai sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead with a gloved hand, and leaving some grease in the process on his face. "Where are we flying?"

"Hotel Oasis." Price answered. "In the Arabian Penninsula."

Four months almost up...

Soap found himself getting more and more nervous as the days passed. Price probably was close, right? He had to be! It was already January! And in 10 days, his time would be up! On midnight January 22nd, he would be demon spawn if Price doesn't kill Makarov.

And, indirectly, he sort of cheated...

He had made locating Makarov just a little easier for Baseplate, messing with their equipment and such to give them an easier time tracking him. Though his influence was small, it still could be used against him. He needed to cover his trails to be sure that Diabolo didn't figure out.

But it was only a matter of time now until he was found out...

I know, short chapter. Didn't know what the write. So what's the next best solution to the problem for me? More TIIIIIIIIIIIIME SKIIIIIIIIIIIIPS! I think you guys know where this fic is headed. Or you think you do. Just wait and you'll find out.
So yeah...
Any guesses? Let me know.
And see you guys next chapter.