Cpl. Maria Allen

75th US Army Ranger Regiment

Fire Base Phoenix, Afghanistan.

"Allen, you're up!"

Maria heard her name being called by Sergeant Foley. They were being run through the training course to be selected into Shepherd's prima donna team. Of course, her participation was only cursory. She had been recruited into the Army Rangers because they needed a translator that spoke Arabic. She had proved her use in Syria when she first joined. However, in Afghanistan, she was almost useless because the lingua franca there was Farsi.

"What am I up against, sarge?" she asked Foley, getting ready for her turn.

"If you can get into the thirties, you're in," Foley replied. He then pointed towards General Shepherd, their field commander, who was overlooking at the observation deck with two other men. One had a handlebar mustache with a bucket hat while the other had dark hair in a mohawk. "They are the ones that you'll need to please."

"Who are they?" Maria furthered. "They look… very serious."

Foley chuckled. "Oh, they are," he said. "Both of them survived the second Russian Civil War and lived to tell the tale if the stories are true. Saved the world and all that jazz."

"Still, if they're working with Shepherd, they're cannon fodder like the rest of us," Maria commented. Shepherd was known amongst the Rangers to have been the one to throw everything he had against his enemies without caution. That was why she had to learn quickly to defend herself and fight back during missions, a translator who could not carry their own weight was of no use to him.

"Right you are," Foley said. He then got closer to her and spoke in a low voice. "Look, there's no pressure or anything, Allen, but they're also looking for someone who can speak Russian. If you say… fall a bit short, they're willing to overlook it."

"The next thing you're telling me is that they're going after Vladimir Makarov himself," Maria deadpanned with a chuckle, only to see Foley drop his jaw. "Sarge…" Foley's reaction made her uneasy. It was only a joke but judging by how Foley reacted to what she said, she knew that she was right.

Foley sighed. "Nothing ever gets past you, Allen," he said, shaking his head. "If anyone asked, I didn't say a word."

A bell rang, and Maria dashed into the course without hesitation. She knew this course well. As a woman in the military, she already had to work harder than the others. She could sweep through every corner blindfolded. Many thoughts ran through her head as she shot target after target. Chief of them all, was if she made the prima donna squad, would she get a raise?

The main reason she joined the US Army Rangers was that they offered a sign-on bonus. She used it to pay off her student loans the moment she received the money, thinking that she would not last long amongst their ranks. Six months later, she was still there as one of the few women that made the cut. She did not expect the outcome, but she had grown into the life of active duty. Just like how she never expected to graduate from that expensive, prestigious university of hers, she never expected to have found being a soldier as a career choice.

The bell rang again when she finished the course. "Twenty-eight seconds!" Foley announced from the other end. She made it, just barely. "Shepherd wants you on the observation deck, Allen!"

Maria walked up to the observation deck and gave Shepherd a salute. "At ease, Corporal Allen," Shepherd said. "These are Captains John Price and John MacTavish," he introduced her to the two other men. The one with the mutton chops and bucket hat was Price, and the one with the mohawk was MacTavish. "Gentlemen, Corporal Maria Allen. She's been our resident translator throughout Syria until we came to Afghanistan."

"Pleased to meet you, sirs," Maria greeted.

"How is your Russian, sweetheart?" Price asked her. For some reason, he did not sound at all condescending when he addressed her that way.

"I spoke Russian at home," Maria answered in Russian. "I studied Arabic and Mandarin in university as well." Her eyes wandered and she found the ice-blue ones of Captain MacTavish. For some unexplained reason, her mouth went dry. She could not help but just... stare at him. He was not only tall, but well-built with a certain gravitas about him.

"Why did you speak Russian at home?" MacTavish asked her while uncrossing his arms. He had a pronounced Scottish accent. She could see that he was looking at her the same way she did him. The second time their eyes met, she felt as though everything else melted away, and he filled her mind until she had the strength to look away.

"My maternal grandmother is Russian and didn't speak English," Maria explained plainly. "I grew up speaking it with her and my mother." Her eyes did not leave MacTavish's, and she knew that his did not leave hers as well.

MacTavish nodded when their eye-contact broke. "Price?" he asked, looking towards Price.

"Well, since she made the cut, she's coming with us." Price answered. He then turned to Maria. "You're gonna need a call-sign, where we're headed. You'll be Anya."

Anya?

"Sir, with all due respect, that's the second most common Russian name there is," Maria said with disbelief. She thought that being in the prima donna squad would mean that she would have a cooler call-sign.

"That's because you already have the most common one already," Price said, sounding very pleased with himself, winking towards MacTavish, who shook his head in mock defeat.

Shepherd nodded in response. "Congratulations, Allen," he said to Maria. "You're the first woman recruit in Task Force 141."

"Welcome to the team, lass," MacTavish offered, and shook her hand. Their eyes met a third time and this time, eye contact had been relatively normal, much to Maria's relief.

"Thank you, Captain."

(Status Updates: Call-sign added, organization data updated)

Cpl. Maria "Anya" Allen

Task Force 141

Task Force 141 land base, location classified.

Price and MacTavish had returned to the Task Force 141 land base before Maria... no... Anya arrived. She left Fire Base Phoenix with Shepherd after all the documentation for her transfer had been settled. It was a wholly new start for her, with a new name. She did not know what to expect because no one knew much about this new organization that Shepherd had put together.

Throughout the flight, Shepherd had sporadically briefed her about her new unit. "The 141 is made of the best handpicked group of warriors on the planet, and now, Allen, you're making strides by being our first girl here," Shepherd told her.

"So, I'm not only the diversity hire," Anya remarked. "Good to know that sir."

"You made the cut, you've got the place, diversity hire or not," Shepherd said. "Our mission is to take down Vladimir Makarov. Ever since the death of Imran Zakhaev and his son, Makarov has taken the reigns of certain factions in the Ultranationalist party in Russia. He's a threat that needs to be taken down before he tears everything down."

Shepherd passed a file to Anya that detailed every single bit of information on Makarov that they knew. "So, Makarov's the prize?" Anya asked, leafing through the file. She noted that the file only contained Makarov's past activities, information that was already available.

"Makarov is no prize, he is a whore," Shepherd replied coolly, his voice filled with a hint if disgust. "He's a mad-dog killer working for the highest bidder."

"With Imran Zakhaev dead, who is the highest bidder?" Anya asked, still looking through the file they had on Makarov. "Didn't the Ultranationalists win the elections after the Second Russian Civil War?" If that were true, it would mean that the Ultranationalists would be turning on their own people if Makarov was part of the party to begin with. Nothing made sense.

Shepherd seemed to be impressed. "You've got a nose for politics, I see," he proclaimed. "But your file says that you were a language major in college."

Anya nodded. "Yes sir, I was," she replied. "It's a habit I got from my dad. He likes to piece everything together to form a cohesive story."

"You'll fit in very well here then, Allen," Shepherd concluded.

They did not speak until they landed. When the plane landed, Anya was greeted by two of her new teammates, one wore a balaclava, and another had a friendly smile. "You must be the new kid," said the one with the balaclava. "I'm Ghost, and this here is Gary Sanderson, we call him Roach."

Anya shook both Ghost and Roach's hands. "I'm Maria Allen, I'm… Anya?" She was still getting used to

Both Ghost and Roach chuckled at her introduction. "That must be Price's handiwork," Roach said knowingly.

"Ghost, Roach, give Anya the grand tour of the base," Shepherd instructed while he was coming out of the plane. "I've got a few things to discuss with Price and MacTavish."

"Price is on his way to your office, sir," Ghost reported. "MacTavish is on the training course. He'll swing by shortly."

"See to it that he does," Shepherd said and walked away.

"On the scale of 1 to 10, how much does Shepherd see you boys as cannon fodder?" Anya asked Ghost and Roach the moment Shepherd was out of earshot.

Roach let out a quick chuckle with Ghost harrumphed. "Well, your chances won't change because the boss doesn't, I expect," Ghost replied, getting Anya's meaning instantly. "Come on, we'll bring you to our course."

Anya followed Ghost and Roach into the base, which was essentially her new home. From what she understood, she was to be given a room with its own ensuite because they had not built the facilities for women. It was an arrangement that she would not complain about.

With Shepherd's instruction, their first destination was the training course. It was there when she saw MacTavish going through it at lightning speed. She was dumbstruck, much to Roach and Ghost's enjoyment.

"No one's that fast," Anya said in disbelief. She could see every single move he made, but at the same time, it was as if a mere wind had passed through. However, it was more than that, the way he moved was entirely different. She was sure that he made a flip or two, he was basically toying with the course.

"That's MacTavish for you," Roach commented. "He and Ghost are always at the top of the lists. They're literal monsters. What was your PB, Ghost?"

"17 seconds," Ghost replied. "MacTavish was 17.5."

The best among the Army Rangers was around the twenties if Anya's memory served correctly. She watched as Ghost waved to MacTavish, who approached them the moment he saw them.

"You'll get there when you grow a pair of longer legs, Roach," MacTavish teased, seemingly able to hear their conversation. "I'm glad to see that you're finally here, Anya."

"Thank you, Captain," Anya replied with a smile. Once again, their eyes met, but she had the sense to quickly avert her gaze.

"Shepherd wants to see you and Price, Captain," Ghost said. "We'll give Anya the grand tour." MacTavish nodded and left.

"I wanna be just like him when I grow up," Roach joked, rolling his eyes upon MacTavish's comment. Anya tried hard not to laugh, but a chuckle escaped her.

"I think I'll love it here," she proclaimed. From what she had seen so far, at least there was an atmosphere where at least everyone could take a joke around one another. Deep inside, she knew that she would have to continue the efforts that she carried amongst the Rangers to be of use to anyone, perhaps even more.