Update number two! This is the super long one. Stick with it, if you can! I promise it will all be worth it!

Based upon the mission - 'Crew Expendable'. I've tried to find the dialogue as closely as I can but obviously some things are different! xxx

It took another two weeks before they got a sniff of some action. He hadn't even been aware that it was happening until he had found himself sat inside a hercules chopper somewhere over the bering strait. There were seven of them. Price, Gaz, Lola, himself plus Wallcroft, Griffen and Clark.

"Bravo Team." Price's voice came into Soap's ear. They all wore headpieces so that they were able to communicate in the thick of the action. "The intel on this op comes from our informant in Russia. The package is above a medium freighter, Estonian registration number 52775. There is a small crew and a security detail on board."

"Rules of engagement, Sir?" Gaz asked.

Price looked up at the team. "Crew expendable."

"Oh, I just love it when you talk dirty to me, Captain." Lola grinned up at Soap from her seat beside him as her voice floated through his earpiece.

Price gave a gruff laugh in response before lighting the cigar in his mouth, he gave a long drag as he closed his eyes. Soap watched the smoke trickle out into the thick black sky. It was raining, hard. The water beneath them lurched frighteningly. He had never really been a fan of the sea. Too unpredictable. He was glad he was in the helicopter. Lola nudged Soap with her elbow. The SAS uniform suited her. The black trousers were practically leggings, the jacket was tight and form fitting and the vest that they wore to carry their grenades, flash bombs and ammo hugged her tightly. Even the chunky combat boots that they had been issued seemed to elongate her already long legs which were stretched out in front of her. She wore her hair in a high ponytail which only served to highlight her high cheekbones, wide cat-like eyes and those perfect lips.

"First bit of action." She smiled. "Ready?"

It was off putting that she was so calm. Prior to Price's briefing she had been talking to Gaz about his daughters – the eldest one had her first boyfriend, Gaz wasn't happy – while she had cleaned the MP5SD laid in her lap. Soap had watched her. She hadn't even glanced down at the gun as her fingers had dismantled it. It was second nature. As eager as he was to begin his first SAS mission, he was more excited to finally watch her in action. He now believed, without any doubt, that she was good at this job. He just wanted to see it for himself.

"As I'll ever be." He grinned in response.

"That's the spirit, Travis." She laughed.

"Travis?" Price asked, fixing his eyes on the pair.

"Travis Bickle." Soap responded. "Taxi Driver." He pointed at his head. "The lads seem to think I got my inspiration from Robert De Niro."

"It's better than before." Price regarded him, coolly, as was his way. "You looked like a hippy." He threw the cigar out of the chopper and into the night. Lola laughed loudly at his remark. "Masks on."

Beside him she pulled her mask down, threading her ponytail through the straps at the back of her head. He stared at her. It was finally dawning on him that she was about to throw herself out of the helicopter and come face to face with men who would kill her in an instant. And she wasn't even afraid. He heard her laugh tinkling in his earpiece as he pulled his own mask down. He wasn't afraid for his own life. Not really. You learnt not to think about your own mortality after so many years of putting your body on the line, but the feeling that he had as he watched her move towards to door of the chopper was something completely different. He was worried for her. The feeling alarmed him. He had served for twelve years and he had never worried for the safety of another person before. It was a terrible realisation for him. One, because he felt awful that he had never truly cared about the lads that he had served beside, and two, because he didn't want to worry about her. Not because he didn't like her, he liked her a lot, but mostly because this job was going to be hard enough when he was only caring about keeping himself alive. Now he was going to be watching her back too. The helicopter steadied itself and Soap saw the freighter beneath them. Lola turned to him and gave him a thumbs up. He returned it with as much enthusiasm as he could muster before watching as she rappelled down the rope that led to the deck. He readied himself and followed her down. Steadying himself against the rocking motion of the ship, he moved up towards a window of the control deck. He quickly counted five guys standing on the other side of the glass.

"Weapons free." Price's voice echoed in his ear.

The SAS bullets tore through them in seconds.

"Bridge secure."It was her voice.

In his haste to get himself into position he hadn't looked to see where she was standing. She was next to Price. His eyes focused in on the glimmer of blonde against the grey backdrop of the ship's steel.

"Hold your fire." Price commanded. "Gaz, stay in the bird till we secure the deck. Over."

"Roger that."

"Squad on me."Price kicked through the steel door leading to the control room and they filed in behind him and moved quickly down towards the ships bowels.

"Stairs clear."

Through another door and around a corner. A voice echoed through the hall. Soap stared down the range. The guy was hammered, barely able to keep on his feet. He fired off two shots and the body hit the deck.

"Last call." Price said gruffly.

In any other circumstance, Soap probably would have laughed. Lola passed in front of him. She moved like a cat, her body coiled up, the gun in her hands raised. Waiting.

"Hallway clear."

She moved down towards the door from which the drunk man had appeared and her rifle went off twice. Sleeping crew. She had dispatched them quickly and without hesitation. It was a weird image to digest. The blonde ponytail, the butter wouldn't melt face, the dangerous killer.

"Sleep tight." He heard himself say.

He couldn't see her mouth, but he was sure she was laughing.

"Crew Quarters clear. Move up."

They exited the quarters and moved back outside. The rain was thick and heavy and immediately soaked through Soap's jacket.

"Forward deck is clear! Greenlight on Alpha. Go!"

Soap watched as Gaz, Griffen and Wallcroft moved into position with the rest of the squad. They had moved onto the main torso of the ship. It was crowded with shipping containers, cars, trucks, crates containing ammo and guns. Ahead of him he watched as the squad weaved between the obstacles. He kept his eyes trained on the blonde ponytail.

"Got two on the platform." Gaz said.

"I see 'em." Price responded. Soap focused on the two figures on the bridge. "Weapons free."

"Roger that."

Two shots were fired.

"Target neutralized." Lola said.

Four shots, four kills. They obviously hadn't been lying when they had said that she was a talented shooter. She dispatched of the enemies quickly, precisely. They pushed further. Ahead of him Soap could see the main control tower. Beneath that would be access to the guts of the ship. If the package was going to be anywhere, it was there.

"We got company." Gaz called. Soap heard the shots before he saw the tangos. Passing through one of the empty containers, he watched as the crew flooded onto the platform above them. They were armed to the teeth and had no qualms about letting the bullets fly. Soap grit his teeth as he heard the metal of the container being ripped apart by their ammo. He needed to stop thinking about her and what she was doing. She was clearly more skilled than he had thought. If he didn't focus on himself he was going to be shipped back to Credenhill in a body bag. This wasn't a game anymore. This was real life. Real enemies with real bullets. He shook his head. She would be fine. She had made it six years. She had undoubtably undertaken worse missions than this and had survived. He had to get his head in the game.

"Hammer Two-Four, we got tangos on the 2nd floor."

Soap fired at the crew. He hit one and watched the body hit the floor. It felt good. The familiar surge of blood coursed through his veins. In his worry for Lola, he hadn't even taken the time to consider that this was his first mission with the SAS. He was doing it. He had made it. The surge in his blood allowed him to take out another guy.

"Copy, engaging."

The 2nd floor was set alight by the chopper. The bullets suddenly stopped flying.

"Bravo Six, Hammer is at bingo fuel. We're buggin' out. Big Bird will be on station for evac in ten."

"Copy that."

The squad surged forward towards the platform, ahead of them was the main infrastructure of the ship. They would be able to reach the cargo bay from there.

"Wallcroft, Griffen, cover our six. The rest of you on me."

He followed Price as the squad converged on the door. Ahead of him, Gaz reached to the shotgun strapped to his back.

"I like to keep this for close encounters." He laughed.

Soap grinned. "Too right mate."

Lola appeared to his left. She was wringing the water out of her hair. "Join the SAS, he said. It'll be fun he said." She narrowed her eyes at Price, who laughed at her. "Why is it always raining in Russia?"

"Bet you wish you'd gone for the Travis now, don't you?" Price said.

"This isn't GI Jane, Soap. I'm not about to do a Demi Moore and shave my head." she glared at him.

"I think you'd suit it."

"And I think you're full of shit." She laughed, pushing him with her shoulder.

"Want to know what I think?" Price growled. "I think you both need to shut up and focus." He moved towards the door. "On my mark." He swung it open with minimal effort. "Go!"

Lola was in first, followed by Gaz and his shotgun, Price, Clark and then Soap.

"Check your corners."

They rushed through the corridors.

"Check those corners!" Price barked.

Soap moved up, swivelling his head right and left. Lola was still at the front of the group. Don't worry about her, he told himself. She's fine.

"Clear left." Her voice appeared.

"Clear right." Gaz called.

"Hallway clear!" Price said.

"Move up!"

"Stairs clear." The voices bounced back and forth in Soap's ear. Lola, Price, Gaz. Lola, Price, Gaz. She had been joking about her hair when they had been outside, but now they were back in the thick of the action her voice had taken on a hard edge.

"We've got movement right." She called, firing off two shots into the distance.

The bogey returned fire and Soap ducked as the enemy bullets began to ricochet around the confined space. The rest of the squad had moved into position and were advancing upon the shooter. The sound of Gaz's shotgun punctured the air until the returning fire stopped. Soap's heart was beating faster than he had ever known. As the squad advanced further towards their intended destination, everything seemed to blur together and his primal instinct kicked in. It was the easiest way to be while engaged in combat. Overthinking something was the quickest way into an early grave in this game. If you just allowed your body to do what it was programmed to do, everything seemed to just flow.

"Flashbang, out."

He had once tried to describe what the job was like to some of his civvy friends from back home. But he couldn't. It's not that he didn't want to. It was just... if you hadn't done it, you couldn't know what it felt like. No amount of descriptive words would ever change that. He thought about it now as the squad pushed through a barrage of bullets from the crew. They were advancing on the package, that much was clear and to their credit, the men aboard the ship who had been tasked with protecting it weren't about to just lie down and let them take it. He had somehow taken point as the squad manoeuvred around the shipping containers scattered along the platform. A cry to his left startled him and he reacted quickly. One of the crew charged at him, his gun level with Soap's chest. Instinctively, Soap grabbed the knife from his belt and plunged it into his enemies neck. The man dropped to the floor with a thud. The floor beneath Soap's feet turned crimson and slick with blood. Price moved ahead of him, Lola following. She turned to look at Soap. It was a wordless gesture but one which snapped him back into the present. She waited until he began to move before she turned back around.

"Stay sharp." Price growled.

"If the package is anywhere, it's in there." Gaz nodded towards the door in front of them. "So you can bet your bollocks that they're all in there just waiting to fuck us up."

Soap nodded, and reloaded his gun. From the corner of his eye he saw Lola's head turn towards him. It was infinitesimal but he saw it. Price kicked open the door. Bullets began to fly instantaneously.

He thought back to his friends from home. He remembered how disappointed they had looked when he had told them he couldn't describe what it was to face danger on a daily basis. He had tried, really, really tried, but no words could do moments like this justice.

It was the smell of the smoke in the air. The sound of gunshots. It was a feeling that every single movement mattered. One step too far and a bullet could cut you open. The bullets. So many bullets. Flying in all directions. It was the feeling of knowing that there was a man on the other side of that room who had you firmly in his sights. It was the feeling that somebody out there wanted you dead and if you didn't kill them first then they would get their way. How do you describe the feeling of watching one of your bullets split through a skull? The noise. The horrible thud. The crunch of bone. The screaming and crying. How did he describe that? Furthermore, how did he tell them that he loved it? His friends all stayed in the village, got 9-5 desk jobs... They wouldn't understand the feeling of sheer, unadulterated joy when you watched your bullet connect with an enemy. Nobody but the men, and women, who did this job would ever, ever understand the way it felt. He chose his targets carefully, picked them off one by one. Beside him, Lola's gun would pop periodically. He knew that she was taking down the runners on the platform opposite, he could see them falling from the corner of his eye. Below the platform, Price, Gaz and Clark were on the main deck taking care of the lads that Soap was missing.

"All clear?" Price called.

"All clear, Sir." Gaz responded.

He snapped back to reality, grateful for his own ability to give into his body and let it command him. It was a skill that he had learnt over the past twelve years and something that he was inherently proud of. He unloaded the empty ammo clip from his gun as the squad moved down from the platform on which they had been stood. Beside him Lola bumped her shoulder against him. He bumped her back. It was the smallest, most discreet of movements but it made him smile. She beckoned him towards the squad with a flick of her head. They were converging on a locked container.

"I'm getting a strong reading, Sir."

Soap and Lola arrived as Gaz pulled the doors open. Inside was a large metal container. "You might want to take a look at this."

"Hmmm, it's in Arabic." Price mused, stepping towards the mystery box. "Lola?"

She laughed. "I'm good, but I'm not that good. The flag on the back wall is Turkish though." She paused. "Do we have issues with the Turks?"

"Not that I know of..."

"Subterfuge?" Soap asked.

She turned to him and shrugged.

"Baseplate, this is Bravo Six. We've found it. Ready to secure package for transport."

Lola moved inside the container, she ran her fingers along the bright yellow sign affixed to the front of the mystery package.

"At least we all know what this means." She muttered.

"Why would the Turks be transporting a nuke?" Gaz asked.

"Beats me." She mused. "He's going to make me learn Arabic isn't he?" She asked Gaz. "Y'know, just because I'm not busy enough." She grimaced.

"No time to remove the package, Bravo Six. Two bogies headed your way fast. Grab what you can and get the hell outta there."

Soap's head snapped up towards the Captain.

"Fast movers, probably MIGs. We'd better go." Lola told Price. She was already moving, leaving Soap stood in the container alone.

"Soap, grab the manifest. Move." Price barked.

He grabbed the folder and moved from the steel box. MIGs were bad news. Supersonic jet fighters that would quickly turn this ship into a watery grave for the SAS.

"All right – Everyone topside! Double time!" Price shouted.

Soap didn't need telling twice. He followed the retreating squad.

"Wallcroft, Griffen, what's your status?"

"Already in the helicopter, Sir. Enemy aircraft inbound. They've opened fire! Get out of there, now!"

Ahead of him, Lola turned her head. Was she looking out for him? Making sure that he wasn't left behind? As she turned back around it happened. The roar of the explosion was deafening and the heat from the flames hit Soap like a brick wall. The whole squad was thrown to the ground by the sheer force of the attack. He stared up at the ceiling, the image swirling as his eyes got used to the shock of the blast.

"Bravo Six! Come in! Bravo Six, what's your status?"

His back was wet. The ship was flooding. His vision was blurry. He had banged his head in the fall. He turned his head from side to side urging the picture to become clearer. The water spreading over his body was freezing.

"Shit! What the hell happened?" Clark shouted.

Soap turned his head left, beside him Gaz was getting to his feet. Soap willed his body to get up. He needed to move. The depth of the water was increasing by the second. Stand up, he told himself. You need to move. Everything went black, momentarily. He needed to move. He wasn't ready to die. Not here. Not now.

"The ship's sinking! We've got to go, now!" Gaz was screaming.

Get up. Get up, John. He thought of his mam and dad. They had nobody but him. He couldn't just give up. He wasn't supposed to die this way.

"Bravo Six! Come in damn it!"

The back of his skull felt like it was about to explode. He willed his legs to move. Willed his body to find its own strength and get up. He hadn't heard Lola's voice, yet. He needed to get up and see that she was safe. She was smaller, lighter than the rest of them. If the blast had sent him flat on his back, what had it done to her? He lifted his head up, momentarily. His vision blurred.

"Big Bird. This is Bravo Six. We're on out way out." A hand wrapped itself around Soap's. Instinctively he knew that it was Price. The grip was firm, solid. "On your feet soldier." His Captain dragged him up to his feet. "We are leaving!"

His brain swam. He stared at the gaping hole in the side of the ship. The water was flooding the cargo bay at an alarming rate. He had to push through the pain.

"Is he okay?!" Lola appeared in his line of sight, her face contorted with worry."PRICE." She screamed. "Tell me that he's okay!"

"I'm fine." Soap choked out. "I'm fine."

The worry passed from her face quickly and was replaced by the steely look of determination that he had seen so many times before.

"Stay behind me. Don't stop running." She grabbed his jacket and shook him. "Promise me that you're not going to stop running."

"I promise." He stared into her eyes. Those gorgeous green eyes. She was glaring up at him as if she didn't believe him.

"Just pretend that we're back at base and you're racing with me. You want to beat me don't you? Want to prove that you're faster than me?"

He nodded.

"Then prove it." She grabbed his hand and looked up at him imploringly.

"COME ON." Price growled.

She squeezed Soap's hand tightly before turning to follow Price.

"GET TO THE CATWALKS! MOVE, MOVE, MOVE!"

Soap ran faster than he had ever ad before. His skull throbbed in protest but he pushed through the pain as if it were nothing. He kept his eyes firmly focused on Lola. If he kept up with her, he would be safe.

"MOVE YOUR ASSES!" Gaz hollered. "COME ON, LET'S GO!"

They had reached the platform. The ship was beginning to tilt slightly. Soap pushed on. He had to follow her. Had to catch her. Above him, a loud bang signalled the arrival of more water. The pressure sent Soap skidding to the floor. Lola turned around and ran to him.

"SOAP GET BACK ON YOUR FEET. WE NEED TO GO!" She growled, grabbing his arm and pulling him up. "I'M NOT LETTING YOU DIE IN THIS STUPID FUCKING SHIP."

There was a determination in her eyes that frightened him. Had he completely missed the part of their story where she had began to care about him more than she cared about herself? She was staying with him at all costs, even when the rest of their squad were surging ahead and the ship was beginning to tilt at a dangerous angle. If he didn't force himself to run then he would die, and she would die alongside him.

"Watch your head!" She cried as one of the rafters buckled under the pressure of the straining ship. "Don't let go of my hand, okay?!" She fixed him with one last glare before she turned around. She pulled him behind her, forcing his legs into moving.

"GO! GO! KEEP MOVING!" Gaz shouted.

The rest of the squad were just ahead of them. Soap focused on them and grit his teeth in determination.

The catwalk beneath their feet began to snap and break. "IT'S BREAKIN' AWAY!" Gaz called. "LO, SOAP ARE YOU BEHIND US?"

"WE'RE HERE, GAZ." She screamed. "JUST FOCUS ON GETTING US OUT OF HERE."

It wasn't a lie. She was directly behind Price now. Her hand still wrapped around Soap's dragging him over the twisted metal.

"COME ON! COME ON!" Price called.

They entered a hallway. The pipes on the wall hissed furiously as they began to break away from the wall.

"WATCH THE PIPES." Gaz called.

They twisted and turned through endless corridors that all looked the same. Lola's hand remained wrapped around Soap's. He pushed through the pain. He had to get out. He had to make sure she was safe. That was all he cared about.

"Talk to me Bravo Six! Where the hell are you?"

"Stand by! We're nearly there!"

They moved up a set of stairs and out of the lower hall.

"Which way!? Which way to the helicopter?!"

"TO THE RIGHT! TO THE RIGHT!" Price responded to Clark.

"WE'RE RUNNIN' OUT OF TIME! COME ON! LET'S GO!" Gaz shouted at the group.

The ship was capsizing at a terrifying rate. Soap's legs pushed him on. He wasn't giving up. They exited through a door onto the deck. He had never been so happy to see the rain and ominous black sky. Objects rolled past them. She pulled him out of their path of destruction.

"Keep moving!" she called to him.

"WHERE THE HELL IS IT?!" Gaz cried.

The helicopter arrived. The back end opened ready for the squad to jump on. It wasn't going to be able to land. The ship was capsizing and there wasn't a firm surface for the wheels to set down.

"JUMP FOR IT!" Clark called.

Soap watched as one by one, Clark, Gaz and Price threw themselves into the safety of the heli. Lola let go of his hand and flung herself onto the chopper, landing on her feet. She turned to Soap. He only had one chance at this. Beneath him the sea lurched with a terrifying force. The ship was practically vertical now. If he missed this jump he would be done. There was no second chance. He focused on her face. The terror was evident. She was worried about him. Terrified that he would misjudge the jump and fall to his death. He took a deep breath and jumped. His hands made contact with the base of the chopper but his legs were hanging over the edge. Price lurched forward and grabbed his arms, pulling aboard with ease.

"Gotcha."

Price released his hands from Soap's arms. He rolled flat onto his back and stared up at the ceiling of the chopper.

"We're all aboard. Go!"

"Roger that! We're out of here. Baseplate this is Big Bird. Package secure. Returning to Base. Out."

Soap sat up and pulled his mask up. He shifted forward to the edge of the chopper and stared towards the ocean. The last remnants of the ship were being swallowed by the inky black water. He exhaled deeply and ran his hands across his head. Behind him he heard a sigh. He turned to look at Lola. She had her head bowed deeply, her hands covering her eyes. He stared at her until finally she moved her hands and looked up at him. Her eyes searched his face. She opened her mouth as if to speak but no words came out. He wasn't sure what he wanted to say to her. Wasn't sure what he wanted her to say to him. But something had changed on that ship. Something had passed between them. He had attempted to put his feelings to one side, forced himself not to think about her, not to worry about her. As he sat in that chopper, his breathing steadying from his brush with death, he knew without a shadow off a doubt that she had been attempting the same thing in return but as her eyes focused on his, he knew that she hadn't been successful.