Yuri was lost in thought again.

As he stood near by a lone burn barrel, the strong, putrid smell of oil could easily be smelled, however it didn't bother him. He pulled his hands out of his coat pocket and placed them in front of the blaze in an attempt to keep warm. All the while around, countless soldiers were carrying out the day's duties.

He found himself staring into the flame, trying to clear his mind and lose himself in the dancing flames. However, nothing could keep his mind off of what Makarov was doing, despite his best efforts to put it out of his thoughts.

"As if I shouldn't be there too.." Yuri said to himself in his head, narrowing his eyes. "I have just done as much as him, why shouldn't I be denied what I've rightly earned?"

Despite the warmth of the flame, Yuri still felt the cold bitter feeling of jealousy flowing inside him. He had always found common ground with Vladimir Makarov from the day they had met. They came from similar upbringings, believed in the same values, served in the military as soldiers and fought in war. They were still fighting, only now it was a much different conflict.

Despite all these things, Yuri accomplishments seemed only minor to Makarov's. No matter how hard he wanted it to change. He was always in his shadow, like a younger sibling overshadowed by his older counterpart.

Yuri shook these thoughts out of his mind. "Its pointless complaining like a child. I don't need to prove anything or impress anyone..."

It would still feel good however.

He continued to watch the flames in silence, contemplating in silence. Until being interrupted that is.

A gloved hand landed on his shoulder, and he looked to see a man his age and height, covered in head to toe in cold weather fatigues. His light brown hair and soft eyes seemed to smile at Yuri. It was a face that didn't take him long to recognize.

"Anatoly." Yuri said with a rare smile.

"Yuri," Anatoly repeated back, grinning. "Yuri, Yuri, always in a hurry!"

"Thats me, the one and only," Yuri replied, "Its good to see you again, I thought you were assigned to Afganistan?"

"I had thought the same," He said. "But it seems that my talents and skills have brought me here, working directly under Zakhaev himself."

"You? Working for Imran himself?" Yuri asked, skeptical. "Doing what, debugging computers?"

"Its not just computers Yuri!" Anatoly snapped. "For your information, this 'army' that we call ourselves is mostly made up of men who either dropped out of school or had no formal education entirely! And only rare few actually know the ins and outs of fiber optics, communications, networking, binary-

"Okay, okay, I get it." Yuri said, waving him off. "Your the personal techie for our commander."

"I prefer technical adviser..."

"All the same." Yuri said, dismissing the subject. "I'm sure your work keeps you busy."

Anatoly sighed. "It keeps 'us' busy, unfortunately..."

"Us? Who-

At that moment, a man carrying what seemed to Yuri to be large containers of some sort. The man carried one in each hand, and the expression on his face showed fatigue.

As he approached, the man dropped the cases to the ground, landing in the dirt with a thud. He then sat down, catching his breath and taking his winter cap off to wipe the sweat from his brow.

The impact of the cases seemed to set Anatoly off in alarm. "Don't just drop them Viktor! The shock will damage them!"

Viktor didn't seem to hear Anatoly as he began to light a cigarette, taking a break from what Yuri could see was painful and tedious work.

"You carry them up and down ten flights of stairs then." Viktor snapped. "I don't give a shit about your precious computers."

"If I carried them, then I would be doing all the work!" Anatoly fired back. "Besides, I don't have the strength to lug this stuff around and install it!"

Viktor scoffed. "Well then I suppose you better start benching..."

Yuri gave a slight grin. "Being a pack mule not suit you Viktor?"

Viktor gave Yuri an icy look, then look at him with a small smile on his face. "You can relate, I'm sure."

"Unfortunately, I can." Yuri replied, walking over to shake hands. "Its good to see you too old friend."

"You too." Viktor replied, giving a firm handshake.

"So," Anatoly started, smiling as he always did. "What brings you here? Or rather, what brings Makarov here?"

And just like that, Yuri set of mind was back on Vladimir Makarov. Already, jealousy was already beginning to pulse back into his veins.

"He's..." Yuri started, trying to find words.

"Let me guess, hes out reading again, right?" Anatoly guessed. He shook his head. "I swear, I wonder when that man finds time to eat..."

Yuri shook his head. "No, not that. Hes..."

He glanced up at the colossal stone castle that dominated the area, towering above the men.

"He's in a meeting."

"And I expect them to be in pristine condition when I receive them."

"They are." Zakhaev assured. "Top of the line."

"And the weapons? When will I have them?"

"At the same time with the helicopters." Zakhaev promised, his steel gray eyes staring intently at his guest. "Everything will be to your standards and beyond, I promise."

Khaled Al-Asad played with his shot of liquor before downing it in a second. Makarov never took his eyes off of the man. He had chosen a traditional military dress uniform for his visit, his chest adorned with numerous medals, most of which he had probably hadn't earned. Still, it made him look the part.

Al-Asad gave a confident smile. "I see. Then my uprising should be smooth and swift. Once I come to power, I am sure to support you as a brother, provided some deals are kept."

Zakhaev raised a hand. "You need not worry. I am a man of my word, and my word will be kept."

Al-Asad gave a curt nod, and raised yet another shot of liquor. "A toast! To such a beautiful revolution!"

Makarov watched, glaring in silent disgust. In his eyes, this man was nothing but a useless fool with no sense of what war really was. Just a game he could use to satisfy his need for power. But a even such a man had his uses, or that was Zakhaev saw at least.

However, Makarov was inclined to disagree.

"Tell me..." Makarov said, not taking his eyes of Al-Asad. "What do you intend to do with the country once you've won power?"

Al-Asad eyed Makarov like he had told a joke. "What do you mean? Rule like I intend to of course."

"I once heard a man say those exact words." Makarov replied, studying the Arabic man before him.

"Vladimir." Zakhaev said, eying him with caution.

"Until I found him. Dead." Makarov said simply. "I find it quite remarkable what a single round fired from over half a mile can do to a man."

Al-Asad grinned. "So you fear for my safety? Do you think I once I take power, I will have it swept away?"

"Power is a weapon, one that everyone wants. Put it in the hands of a mastermind, and stopping him becomes an impossibility. Put power in the hands of a madman, and stopping him becomes a priority..."

Makarov glanced up at Al-Asad. "...Put power in the hands of a fool, and stopping him is child's play."

"Makarov, that's enough." Zakhaev tried again, but to no avail.

A sinister smile curled at the corners of Al-Asad's mouth. "Such arrogance from a man who has never known what real power feels like."

"And such foolish and arrogant notions of a man who's own dreams of glory will be his undoing." Makarov spat back, venom in every word. "You expect the world to just leave you alone once you take power?"

"Vladimir!" Zakhaev roared, quickly silencing the room.

Makarov closed his eyes and sighed. "It's pointless convincing him otherwise..." He muttered to himself.

"I apologize for my lieutenant's words." Zakhaev said. "He has a problem of speaking his mind and then more."

Makarov rolled his eyes. "A talent I have found you do as well..."

"You should get some rest." Zakhaev said, approaching Al-Asad. "The accommodations we've prepared for your visit should be to your liking."

Al-Asad scoffed. "I should expect no less..."

Zakhaev turned to his son. "Victor, would you mind escorting our guest."

Victor rolled his eyes in displeasure. "If I must..."

As the two began to leave the room, Makarov got up and was about to exit as well, until Zakhaev said otherwise.

"You can stay." Zakhaev ordered, causing Makarov to freeze. He glanced silently out of the corner of his eye before turning around.

Zakhaev waited to make sure Al-Asad and Victor had left and were out of earshot before speaking.

"Your glibness does you no credit." Zakhaev said with a glare. "Do you think I like tending to that man's every whim like a servant, only to have you ruin any chance of a partnership?"

"Last time I recall, I believe you told me to speak my mind when facing an enemy." Makarov countered, pacing the room. "Or has that changed since I last saw you?"

"Kalad Al-Asad is our ally and your friend." Zakhaev reminded him. "It would be wise to remember that."

"What good is he anyway?" Makarov replied. "Give him two, three months, the U.N will have him ousted or assassinated. Why lend him our help?"

"Because we share many enemies. And we'll need his help distracting one of them."

"This again..." Makarov said in a bored tone. "Haven't I made this clear, the Americans-

"The Americans are doing exactly what I intend them to do. Just like Al-Asad."

Zakhaev closed his eyes and sighed, listening to the commotion of men outside.

"There is a reason why I call you here as well Makarov. Something of great importance that is essential to this plan."

Makarov eyed Zakhaev with curiosity. "What do you ask of me?"

"To do what you best." Zakhaev replied, handing him the folder. "Acquire the impossible."

Makarov opened the folder's contents, paging through and skimming it's pages. He only had look over a few pages to realize what Zakhaev had given him.

"These are schematics..." Makarov said to himself. "Schematics and a shipping manifest for-

"A nuclear bomb." Zakhaev finished for him. "One that you are going to acquire."

He couldn't hardly believe it. "For what purpose?"

"An offering to Al-Asad."

Makarov closed the envelope in a heartbeat. "I refuse to give that man such power."

"He wouldn't have control of the weapon itself." Zakhaev explained. "Only possession."

"And you expect him to hold the country hostage with this weapon, is that it?"

Zakhaev said nothing. To Makarov, it was all the answer he could need.

"This coup' Al-Asad intends in enact, will spark a major within the west, and an American response is only the most logical one. They will invade."

"And you need a weapon to deter them..."

"The bomb is being moved by rail tomorrow." Zakhaev explained. "Can you give me what I ask?"

Makarov picked up the folder and glanced up at his leader, commander and superior.

"It will be done."

"And then that's when It got so cold, I swear I was frozen in place!"

Yuri smiled at Anatoly's story. "It was pretty damn in cold in Afghanistan, especially up in those mountains..."

He shuddered. "I don't miss does times."

Viktor nodded, throwing his third cigarette into the flames. "Agreed."

Anatoly smiled, until he glanced behind Yuri, his expression quickly changing.

"Yuri."

Yuri glanced behind, finding himself staring at none other then Vladimir Makarov himself.

Anatoly gave a wave a small smile. "Long time no see Maka-

"Your 'meeting' go well?" Yuri asked, studying the folder Makarov's hand.

Makarov looked at him for a second before turning to Viktor and Anatoly. "You two busy?"

Anatoly opened his mouth, looking at his stacks of hardware. "Well, I kind of-

"Good." Makarov looked at Yuri, handing him the folder. "Because we have much work to do."

Yuri looked at the folder, standing silent in shock at what Makarov had handed him. Only one thought went through his mind.

"Impossible..."

A glow from a dimly lit monitor illuminated the room. A young blonde haired woman looked at the screen without blinking an eye.

A large figure behind approached her.

"M'am." A man said, his voice thick with a British accent. "We've received word from Nikolai. The weapon is being moved by railroad tomorrow deep in northern Siberia.

"Just as the Intel suggested." The woman replied, not taking her eyes off the monitor. "And the bad news?"

"We believe someone else is going after it too." The man answered. "One by the name of-

"Vladimir Makarov?"

The man paused. "Yes..."

"I've been studying his file..." The blonde said, staring at the picture of the man they spoke of. "Quite a complex person from what I've observed..."

The man chuckled. "You find him complex? That's a first. I thought you found everything and everyone boring and simple."

"So did I..." The blonde replied. "But even I can be wrong..."

"SAS is lending us their support, we leave in the hour."

The blonde closed her frost blue eyes, smiling to herself. "And here I was, getting so bored. This Russian should be interesting."

"He intends to steal a nuclear weapon..."

"Then we shall have to steal it before he does." The blonde replied, a spark in her eye. "I hope this Vladimir Makarov is more of a challenge then the last."