This was it...

No turning back now.

In the truck with him sat Yuri, both of them in juggernaut armor. He assumed it would protect them. It should. It was virtually bullet proof. Now aside from that, he could hear one of Makarov's mercenaries ordering them to leave the truck.

Yuri looked to him with worry on his face. "You sure this armor will protect us?"

"It'll buy us some time." Price answered flatly before going on the comm to speak to his eye inside the building. "Nikolai, are you patched into their system?"

"Working on it." Nikolai responded. "My Arabic's a little rusty."

That's when they opened fire on the truck, and bullets peppered the door. Yuri glanced at the holes then back at Price. "Looks like they know we're here."

Suddenly the corner of Prices helmet flickered before a video feed started to play. He could distinctly see Makarov in the image. Nikolai annouced, "I've tapped into their security feed. Makarov's in the atrium on the top floor."

"This is it. Makarov doesn't leave here alive." He then picked up his machine gun and started to get it ready. "Get ready."

Yuri pulled on his helmet, hiding his face away from view, then tapped ready on the side of it. They both stood up and got to the door.

"This is for Soap."

With a strong kick, the door flew open and they walked out guns ablaze. The mercenaries didn't stand a chance as a revenge fueled Price gunned them down without a second thought about it. They were helping Makarov, and that made them enemies.

As they drew closer, Nikolai noted, "Makarov's got a small army in there."

"It won't help him." Price assured. "Take control of the lifts so he can't escape."

"I'm on it." Nikolai stated.

When they made it inside, they fought their way up the escalators as civilians were running about in desperate attempts to escape.

"Nikolai, where's Makarov?"

"Still in the atrium, but he's on the move!"

"Don't loose him! We're almost there!"

At the second floor, they continued to shoot out the mercenaries, pushing for the lifts. To which, Nikolai told them he was sending on up. When they got htere, Price felt a slight bit edgy with the knowlodge that he was drawing closer to his target. Another feed came on in his helmet showing Makarov with a few from his inner circle.

"Makarov's moved to the restaurant, same floor! He's got a large security detail with him." Nikolai informed.

"What kind of opposition is waiting for us?" Price asked.

"Forty-plus foot mobiles! SMGs and Assault Rifles." His friend answered. Then there was a thumping sound that Price reconized all too well. "Enemy choppers closing on your position."

"One is heading for the roof, probably going for Makarov." Price guessed. The other came level with the elevator and opened fire. Without second thought, both Price and Yuri fire at it. "Shoot it down!"

When the older managed to hit the rotor, he thought it was over. As did Yuri. The Russian lowered his gun. "Good shot."

But their luck was in short supply, the helicopter veered towards the lift, crashing into it as Price could only manage to shout, "Look out!"

Knocked on the floor, Price distantly watched as Yuri tore off the flaming pads and helmet, throwing them in random directions. He then proceeded to pull the padding off of Price. "Our armor's shredded!" When he was free of the armor, Price stood up on weak knees. He could feel the elevator lurch as Yuri continued, "Nikolai, we need another lift!"

"Copy, on it's way."

The lift shook again, just as another lift made it up. Yuri shot the glass and jumped to it. He turned back to Price. "Jump!"

No more time, Price launched himself off the burning lift just as it fell, and barely made it to the other. He took a second to collect himself before standing. If he missed, he would have a long trip down...

"Makarov's chopper just touched down! He's heading there now!"

"He's not getting away!"

Be careful, they're setting up barricades!"

That's when the door opened, and Yuri threw in a gernade. And with that they were on the move.

"Watch yourself, Yuri! Your armor's gone!" Price warned.

They moved through the floor, shooting down the mercenaries as they went. Then they reached the restraunt. He could see him! He wasn't about to get away! Not now! In a matter of moments, Makarov was up the staircase.

Before he could chase him, a helicopter shot at them, the windows exploded and the floor tilted downwards. Everyone started to stumble, falling out of the building! Price had just enough time, barely. He grabbed a reneinforcement pole before he met the same fate. His assault rifle, well that was history. The helicopter continued up to the roof, to pick up Makarov he guessed. He turned to see Yuri, impaled to the floor by a metal rob, his hands grasping it in feeble attempts to free himself of it.

"Yuri..." Price started towards him, but the younger shook his head.

"Leave me!" He demanded. "Don't let him get away!"

Getting to his feet, Price casted Yuri a sorry look as he ran for the roof, leaving him behind.

Yuri meanwhile, continued to grip the rob, pulling it out of himself in a poccess that was slow and aggonizing. He couldn't let this be his fate. He needed to go after him.

Price ran up to the roof just in time to see Makarov board and it take off. But he didn't stop running, he wouldn't give up yet!

Somehow he could feel a familiar presense, one that fueled the fire in his heart to keep going. He launched himself off the ledge, grabbing onto the landing grip of the chopper. In the cockpit above him, the pilot looked down and was about to kick him off, but he knocked his foot away and punched his face before pushing him out. The co-pilot whipped out his pistol, but too late. Price knocked his hand down as he pulled the trigger, shooting the control panels, then pulled his knife and stabbed him in the throat. Pushing his body out afterwards. Now with the controls on fire, Price grasped the joystick to control the decent. But it wouldn't work, he and Makarov still crashed to the roof.

... "Price... wake up..."

Pain speared him like shards of ice as Price opened his eyes to find himself staring at his own reflection in the glass. Blood was dripping from cuts on his face and staining it red. Then in front of him, he could see the crashed helicopter in front of him, Makarov was limping away.

Just a meter in front of him was a desert eagle, his last chance to kill him. With his left arm in too much pain to move, he resorted to his right to drag himself towards it. Makarov saw it as well, and started towards him to get it. Just as he wrapped his fingers around the barrel, the terrorist stomped on his hand in order to take the pistol. Craddling his own left close to his torso, Makarov took aim on him. "I'll see you in hell" seemed to repeat itself in his mind.

"Goodbye, Captain Price..." Makarov near whispered, voice horse.

But before he could pull the trigger, a bullet struck him in the shoulder! Price looked over to see Yuri, now free of the rod aiming at Makarov, ready to finish it. But his hesitation only killed him in the end, Makarov shot him down without any second thought.

Despite the loss of his life, Yuri's sacrific wasn't in vain. It provided just enough time for Price to scramble to his feet and tackle Makarov over. He hooked his fists at the Russian's face before his eyes caught the sight of a cord. He spent no time in wrapping it around Makarov's neck before gripping it in his fists so he could push it down to the glass. As he pulled the man up, he latched the cord to make a noose before he slammed him down into the glass. It shattered underneath, letting them fall as Makarov screamed. When the cord prevented him from falling any more, Price was sent falling to the atrium floor as the noose proceeded to strangle the man.

He pressed his lips together as he stared at the body for a long moment, then pushed away from the edge and leaned against the wall. Exhaust and pain hindered his movements as Price pulled out his pack of cigars and then a lighter before he proceeded to smoke as he watched Makarov's body swaying limply by the cord. The distant sound of police sirens came to his ears. He puffed the smoke of his cigar as he sighed heavily.

I can't believe it... Price thought distantly. "It's over..." Finally over...