Cpt. John "Soap" MacTavish

Task Force 141

Task Force 141 Landbase – Location Classified

It had been four months since Chemo came back with Intel from Anya that Makarov was planning something that needed a vast shipment of weaponry and armor. It has been four months since they met Anya face to face, because she started to realize that the only way she could contact them was by herself and her own terms.

Throughout those four months, they had made extraordinary strides from Anya's Intel. They had snuffed out many safehouses of Makarov's accomplices, and killed a sizable amount of soldiers in his military arm. However, their progress should have been… greater. There was an improvement in the results of each operation, there were times when the teams sent out returned victorious, but it was just… not enough. It was as if Makarov knew that they were all coming, using one operation as a diversion for the other.

However, they still had one problem. Makarov still acted almost singly, and although he had his own advisors, subordinates and allies, he never even gave the big picture to them. Anya almost always had to piece bits and pieces of information together to reach a viable conclusion, and it was still… shaky. They could have done better with Intel that was a little more solid.

Still, it was the best that Anya could do. It turned out that she was right, that Makarov still kept her at arms' length even though they had come to know each other rather intimately. But the fact that she was able to keep Makarov visiting her bed exclusively already revealed that Makarov might genuinely be interested in her as a woman. It was a breakthrough that everyone knew that she had to achieve in order to remain in the terrorist's good graces, because her responsibilities in his faction had grown larger and larger.

"I have discovered that as long as I act like myself, Makarov will be less suspicious of me…"

Those were the words that Anya had told MacTavish when she phoned back to the landbase using a secure line, along with the customary information regarding Makarov's actions that she was supposed to give them. She was supposed to call them again this week, but she did not do so, and he was getting worried. It was not like Anya to be late for anything.

"Captain, you gotta come see this," a random soldier's voice rang in his head, and he turned towards the direction of the owner of the voice. "Anya sent us a package…"

MacTavish rose from his office chair and went to the briefing room, where several amongst them, including Shepherd were already opening whatever she had sent to them. It was a thick envelope, filled to the brim with pieces of paper written in ink. Each and every single page was covered with whatever Anya has seen, heard or experienced, or so they seemed.

"Wait, how do we know that this is genuine?" Ghost asked. "It could be forged for all we know…" He was not being pessimistic, but it did not hurt to be a little more cautious.

"It's her," Shepherd answered a few minutes later, after a few leafs of paper were scanned with present samples of her handwriting they had in their database. "They're so small that I can't read them without glasses," he uttered beneath his breath as well, drawing a small bout of laughter from the rest of the boys. Having said that, he pulled out his reading glasses from his pocket and began to read whatever she had sent them. The rest of the papers were distributed around so that they could cover more material in less time.

Ozone was the first one who found something noteworthy. "Says here that Makarov's deciding whether to get an airbase in Xinjiang, China or Kazakhstan," he read, scanning through the small stack that he got. "Why would Makarov need an airbase for?"

Meat shrugged. "Beats me," he answered. "Maybe he wants to keep a few private jets?"

"Not likely," Archer replied. "That bastard's rich, but he doesn't use his money on himself. Almost always travel using forged passports, doesn't he?"

"I've got one that says that he's now buying off more and more generals in Eurasia," MacTavish said. That was not good at all. With more generals at his side, the greater his military power would be. It was already evident that most Russian military executives were already in league with him, but if even those from other governments would join him, he would be almost impossible to stop.

Airbases to the south of Russia, the corruption of military generals… All this meant that Makarov was getting more and more aggressive, and he would soon be ready to strike.

"Hey, listen to this," Ghost announced when he came across a piece of paper written in red ink while the rest were in blue or black. "'By protecting his own power so jealously, I think that Makarov seeks to place himself as an autocratic leader of Russia. By no means is he a thug as we've all thought he was. He is educated and refined, he knows how to run a country to suit his own needs, and he will if he can.' Wait… wasn't Makarov a soldier all his life?"

"Negative, Riley," Shepherd answered. "He graduated from Frunze Military Academy, where only the best of the best entered. He learned Russian and military history there, along with several languages. In short, Makarov was trained to be a leader, and he's being a damned good one right now."

MacTavish sighed and rubbed his temples. "This means that we're all in deep shite if Makarov gets what he wants," he concluded. He did not even what to imagine what kind of mess the world would look like if that even happened.

"That's why we're here to stop him," Shepherd told them all. In fact, it was the very reason of the foundation of the Task Force 141. "Well boys, you know the drill. Verify all forms of information consolidate them and brainstorm. I want an op proposal done within two days."

They all saluted Shepherd as he left the briefing room, and got to work. "Ya know, the Intel this time seems to be a little… conceptual," Chemo commented. "It's all 'bout planning and shit like that…"

"Means that Makarov's on the drawing-board again, trying to figure out his next step," Ghost added. "Did Anya say anything about any op anywhere?" No one gave a positive answer. It only meant one thing, that there was a bottleneck in Makarov's operations. This gave them more time to plan and less time to react to any of his attacks. However, it also posed a danger: there would be so many possibilities that they could never be sure which one would happen in real life.

Cpl. Maria "Anya" Allen A.K.A. Ultranationalist Codename "Anya"

Task Force 141 / Ultranationalist Terrorist Cell

Paris, France

"What do you think of the plan, Anya?" Makarov asked Anya as they were having coffee in a quaint roadside café looking at the Eiffel Tower. "An airbase in Kazakhstan to further our operations… It will go almost undetected by the Americans, and still it would be close enough to Russia and is not as high profile as China."

Anya chuckled and took a sip of coffee. "First of all, you were never subtle at all," she teased him on his decision not to choose the airbase in Xinjiang, looking into his heterochromic eyes, making the almost always tight line of his lips break into something softer. "However, with the expansion of our… assets, we will need a suitable place for them to call home." She was talking about his recent purchase of helicopters and fighter-jets, all of them enough to strike the Eastern Seaboard of the United States if he ever wanted it. His personal army had grown not only in size but in firepower as well.

"Imagine, up in the mountains, where the sun shines the brightest," he continued, his voice now dangerously close to her ear. From afar, they looked like lovers whispering sweet nothings to one another, and she noticed how two passing women giggled at one another at the sight of them. "There would be the cornerstone of our success."

"Your success," she argued. "Once your plans for a better Russia are done I will retire and become a lecturer in a humanities school."

Now, Makarov actually laughed. "Anya," he chided her softly. "You are a woman of great ambition, surely you can see what the world has to offer to you."

She smiled, saying, "The world has already offered me a chance to work with you," and once again, she could feel his eyes on her, his gaze were now the one that she saw back in his Moscow apartment… "I would do everything for a greater Russia, and I will follow you to that end."

"Trust me, all is within sight," he reassured her, taking her hand in his and kissed it. A natural flush spread all over her fair face and she looked away from him, still smiling shyly. He then moved to kiss her forehead, and moved to the crook of her neck to inhale her scent. "I will come to you tonight," he whispered into her ear. "I have another meeting to attend with Viktor, Anatoly will bring you back to the hotel."

"Good luck," she wished him and walked towards Anatoly, who already stopped his car at the nearest parking spot.

Diary of Maria Allen

Operation Honeypot, circa 2015.

Page 123

I have been sent to Makarov's side for the fourth month, and I think I already have a grasp of his personality as an individual.

Vladimir Makarov is not like Imran Zakhaev, who is inspirational in his own ways; Zakhaev only used his power to get where he wanted to be and the fact that he was supported by the likes of Batkin and Makarov himself, who's a man who commands the respect of thousands because he knows the lowest common denominator: their pain, their suffering, that the government has marginalized them in their own quest for power. He himself had been forgotten by the Red Army when the Soviet Union fell, that is his bone of contention with capitalist Russia. Makarov surpasses Zakhaev because he uses that pain to bind himself to his people, and that's why more and more Russians side with the Ultranationalists.

It's true that I no longer run operations for him as a sniper and support agent, what I do with him is to plan with him pieces of his plan that he'd assigned me to. But there are such times when we are alone; Makarov refuses to talk about anything regarding our work. He often asks me about my past, and I tell what I can to him. Almost every time, he seems just… fascinated by my formerly mundane life.

I know that as a honeypot, this is my mission, to use sex to coax him. However, with Makarov, sex is just one part of the mission, it's not an end. The Intel that I am able to send back happens to be whatever he asks me to do, and what I could find out from the others. I must now be deadly honest to myself... It has been four months since I've left the 141 on this goddamned operation, and I've been sleeping with him for about a few times a week. To say that I'm not attracted to him physically is a lie. I really am. When we're alone, his charisma shows more than ever... He is attentive to a woman's needs and wants, that's all I will allow myself to say, and well, I appreciate that.

I guess that a woman in my place has two faces. One to show her targets, to make them believe that she is what they see her as, and the other is her real face… I have no other choice. Since I have discovered that Makarov responds the best when I act more like myself, and not some bright-eyed new recruit only out to please him, I will only be Anya when I'm alone with him, the Anya that the boys back home know… even if I don't really know who am I supposed to be these days. I told 'Tavish that too when I called back the last time I could. He took it rather well, luckily...

I guess that's all. I'll write more when I can.

HAN: I apologize for the lack of action in these few chapters, because I feel like at this stage, Makarov is planning whatever he needs to do in MW3, and we all know that these kinds of plans, of world domination take time. I'm already making in real, real short, teehee. Can a guy really take over the world in 8 months time? We shall see. Heehee. Do tell me what you think of this so far!