14:00:12, after getting nothing from Farah, Alex, Silence Team, the flight crew, the air marshals, and the ANA Commando Corps for more than half an hour since their arrival at Rossiya Airlines Flight 407's crash site, Laswell gets an MQ-9 Reaper up in the air for immediate observation. Only to be horrified by their fates, courtesy of Task Force Rogue and the Marine Raider Regiment.

Laswell: Drone feed's coming up in a sec', boys. Kilo 1, Echo 3-1, come in. Kilo 1, Echo 3-1, do you— *gasps* *covers mouth* Oh, my God!

Sandman: Alex, Farah, noooo!

Truck: Jesus Christ!

Grinch: God dammit! Fuckin' Frost killed them! We know he did or was at least involved!

Captain Price: This has got Task Force Rogue written all over it.

Kyle: Paul Jackson, Jason Norris and the entire Marine Raider Regiment have definitely got their signatures on them as well. They've hated them since Georgia. And Task Force Rogue could be the reason why the world caught on with this crash a lot quicker than possible.

Laswell: *clears throat* They've done more damage in 1 month than the Inner Circle did in 7 years without Makarov. I have no visual on Silence Team, though.

Captain Price: They're dead, Kate. The Rogues have begun cleaning house. But if they can get this close to them, then they're not far away. We need to beat them at their own game and make them all pay for this and Mazar-i-Sharīf.

Laswell: I agree, but with my countrymen not convinced to join the war for civilization as we know it, Task Force Rogue has become the least of our concerns. I'll explain the rest in person shortly. MI6, F.S.B. and I haven't finished working yet, but we will be very soon.

Ghost: Understood, Watcher. Did we get that backup we requested?

Laswell: Affirmative. Baseplate's Alpha Team and the British S.B.S.'s Bravo 3-0 will regroup with us this afternoon.

Soap: The Quiet Rangers of London? Great find.

Captain Price: They better be.

18:30:17, Hindu Kush, Afghanistan, Task Force 141 touches down in a C.I.A./F.S.B. black site airfield and meets up with Watcher and Nikolai Abramovich there. With Alpha Team ft. Red Coat just slightly behind them.

Nikolai: *smiles* My brothers.

Kyle: Nik!

[Kyle and Nikolai laugh and hug]

[Captain Price and Laswell lightly kiss]

[Soap shakes Laswell's hand]

[Kyle and Laswell hug]

Captain Price: *hugs Nikolai* How ya doin', comrade?

Nikolai: Better now, Captain. Fucking Ultranationalists and Americans.

Captain Price: Word travels fast, huh?

Nikolai: Only if they want it to. Who are they?

Captain Price: MacMillan and his boys.

Colonel MacMillan: How ye holding up?

Captain Price: Still here.

Kyle: Cypher, Gaz, Ridley, Wallcroft, Griffen, Burns.

Cypher: Garrick, Ghost, Soap.

Ghost: Sir.

Soap: Sir.

Red Coat: So you're the pretty boy who approved Roach's murder?

Soap: An unfortunate tragedy that still haunts me today. You must be Red Coat. Good to finally meet you, sir.

Red Coat: Don't call me "sir". I work for a living.

Laswell: Alright, Red Coat. Ease up. Roach's death wasn't our fault, and that's the truth. Come in now. Time's not on our side here.

Now that Laswell's best of the best has some additional support, she can begin sharing what the three friendly agencies gathered.

Kyle: What'd you three get on Task Force Rogue, Kate?

Laswell: Not enough to prove anything, I'm afraid. There were no fingerprints, any DNA (deoxyribonucleicacid) on Farah's body must've been wiped, and her orifices were filled with sand. Bullets were also clean. If this was Task Force Rogue's doing, they covered their tracks well.

Nikolai: I'm going to miss Farah.

Kyle: May Farah, Alex and everyone else with them rest in peace.

Laswell: They're being buried in the Afghan Armed Forces' main cemetery now. But like I mentioned before, we have bigger problems than the Rogues.

Nikolai: Makarov?

Laswell: Yes. Makarov is cooking up something big to let Russia know they've lost World War 3 and convince them to go nuclear. The Kremlin won't be stumbling around in the dark for long. And with Task Force Rogue's media stunt, the United States won't be sending any foreign aid anytime soon. That ship has sunk.

Kyle: Sick fucks are gonna get the U.K., Australia and Canada wiped out. How long until the Inner Circle alerts Moscow?

Laswell: A week. Maybe less. We're on the brink, boys.

Soap: Price.

Captain Price: Yeah, Soap?

Soap: We had Makarov right in our fuckin' hands.

Captain Price: I shoulda killed him when we had the chance.

Colonel MacMillan: *sarcastically claps* Congratulations, Task Force 141. You're a glorified band of fucking idiots.

Sandman: You think you could've done a better job than us, old fart?!

Colonel MacMillan: I would've killed that monster instead of handing him over to a three letter agency. EVEN if that'll cost me my career. Could the three of you make that sacrifice?

Cypher: Doubt it. They are a bunch of double-crossing pitiful excuses of Americans, after all.

Red Coat: Roach and Burns would've done the same if they were on that chopper with you.

Captain Price: What? Why are you— Oh. Right.

Burns: Heh. Must be a senior thing. Just to help you out, I remember my part and Roach's in stopping the Wembley Stadium Siege perfectly.

Red Coat: So do I. *sighs* Couldn't have been any prouder.

The expanded Task Force 141 then remembers what happened during the Wembley Stadium Siege. August 1st, 2020 - 11:59:05, London, United Kingdom, Sergeant Gary 'Roach' Sanderson (Richard Madden) was still an S.B.S. Operator and on vacation in the British capital when it occurred.

He and Lance Corporal Marcus Burns were in the Goldwood sports bar having lunch and watching the 2020 FA Cup Final there since they were too busy to get tickets before coming to town.

6 YEARS AGO

LONDON

[British Crowd cheers]

Roach: Yes! Come on, boys! Kick those Chelsea arses!

Burns: *laughs* Man, I'd get my arse kicked by the S.A.S. so hard if they found out I'm an Arsenal fan. Good thing I enjoy watching them secretly.

[P226 MK25 fire]

[British Crowd yelps, screams and cries]

Burns: What the— THAT'S GUNFIRE!

British Crowd: WHOA! OH, MY GOD! BLOODY HELL!

Roach: You thinking what I'm thinking?

Burns: Yeah.

Roach: I have tactical gear in my car, Marcus. You need some?

Burns: No need, Gary. Ever since the Piccadilly Siege, I have never left home without my black ops uniform and equipment in my car.

Roach: Let's move.

Without a shred of fear or hesitation, Roach and Burns got to their cars, geared up, and drove to the Wembley Stadium to help. But getting there was not easy because a traffic jam forced them to park their vehicles 400 yards away from the AO and continue on foot.

Luckily, Captain Price and Staff Sergeant Kyle Garrick spotted them, and their car was almost at the end of the blockage and the straight shot to the Wembley Stadium.

Captain Price: *honks horn* Oi! U.K.S.F.?!

Roach: Affirmative!

Captain Price: Get in! We're inserting as well!

[Roach and Burns get on board]

Kyle: I'm Staff Sergeant Kyle Garrick. This is Captain John Price. S.A.S.

Burns: Same. Lance Corporal Marcus Burns.

Roach: Sergeant Gary Sanderson, callsign: Roach. British S.B.S.

Kyle: Now we have a fireteam.

Captain Price: Three S.A.S. Operators and a Sailor in a tac vest. Still not enough.

[Roach shakes his head]

Laswell: Watcher to Bravo 6, security confirms gunfire and explosions in the stadium with multiple fatalities and injuries, over.

Captain Price: Copy, we're close now.

Laswell: Be advised, Kingfish and his men may still be inside. If he's there, you bring him out ALIVE.

Kyle: Roger that. Where's medical?

Laswell: First responders will not enter until the scene is clear. The Third Floor VIP Lounge may be Kingfish's next target.

Kyle: Bloody Hell.

Laswell: You said it, Kyle. Soap and I are 10 Mikes out. Let's bag this asshole. Out here.

--

Flashpoint Part 2

1st August, 2020 - 12:15:04

Sgt. Gary 'Roach' Sanderson

British S.B.S., British S.A.S.

Wembley Stadium, London, United Kingdom

--

Captain Price: *honks horn* Come on! HURRY THE FUCK UP! PEOPLE ARE DYING IN THERE!

Kyle: Makarov threatened Heathrow Airport and he hit Wembley Stadium instead.

Roach: Captain Vladimir Makarov, huh? If he's here, then no one in this car is ready to dance with him.

Captain Price: Good story, Sailor.

Roach: It's not a story. It's the truth. You think the S.A.S. are the only ones who know about him?

Burns: Jesus. Look at this. He's a fuckin' madman.

Roach: To tell you the truth, between the stabbings, violent arguments, junkies, teenage pregnancies and bloated land whales raised on a diet of deep-fried pizza, a good terrorist attack would be a welcome fucking distraction here.

Kyle: Was that a shit attempt at a joke?

Roach: This is the military, not a charity. Where do you think the sickest sense of humor comes from?

Captain Price: Finally! Fuckin' hell!

Kyle: Civilians are everywhere.

Captain Price: Alright, check your shots. We'll have a lot of unknowns inside.

Kyle: And Makarov?

Captain Price: You heard the order. R.O.E. (Rules of Engagement) still stands. We take him alive.

Kyle: Stop! STOP!

[tires screech]

[British Female 2 yelps]

Captain Price: Get outta here! Go!

Kyle: Bloody fucking Hell.

[car horn blares]

Kyle: Watch it! WATCH IT!

[tires screech]

Kyle: Close one.

[sirens wail]

Captain Price: We're still in one piece.

Burns: Watch it!

Roach: If we were truly smart, we would end Kingfish the moment we see him and say he went for a weapon. All these stupid office politics.

[tires screech]

[thud]

Kyle: Fuck. Fuck!

Captain Price: Keep your head in the game, Sailor!

Burns: This is chaos!

Captain Price: Yeah, it's what Makarov wants.

Kyle: Police up ahead.

Burns: They got here fast—

[AK-74M UUK fire]

Kyle: They're killing civilians!

Roach: Get down!

[bullets ricochet]

[bullets hit]

Roach: Moving out and returning fire!

[L86 LSW SOCOM fire]

[C8 SFW fire]

[M249 Para fire]

[C8 SFW fire]

Kyle: Clear for now!

Roach: Inner Circle Operators posing as police?! I knew we weren't ready for Kingfish!

Burns: They'd have access to the VIP area.

Captain Price: It's on the third floor. Let's move.

[C8 SFW fire]

Captain Price: Contact! Top o' the stairs!

[Operator 1911 fire]

Captain Price: Targets up top!

[Frag Grenade detonation]

[British Crowd yelps, screams and cries]

Roach: Stairs, clear! Company in the Concourse!

[L86 LSW SOCOM fire]

Roach: Three Tangos down!

Burns: DOWN! STAY DOWN!

After getting ambushed in the Underground Driveway, Bravo 3-1 (Roach), Alpha 6-6, Captain Price and Kyle counter-attacked and started saving lives in the Concourse as they made their way to the Third Floor VIP Lounge. With Roach leading the way and getting the most kills, and Burns being a human shield for fleeing civilians the most while Bravo 6 and Bravo 7 focused on advancing quicker in order to get Makarov before he could disappear.

Captain Price: Watcher, Bravo 6. We're internal and pushing to the VIP area! Be advised, Inner Circle is posing as police, over.

Laswell: Copy. All police on target are considered hostile.

Captain Price: (on comms) Roger that! (off comms) Keep moving through the Concourse! Forcing up!

Burns: RUN! GO!

[L86 LSW SOCOM fire]

[Commando Dagger hit]

Burns: GRENADE!

[Frag Grenade detonation]

Burns: CHEEKY BASTARDS!

Kyle: Fuckers are using grenades!

Roach: Grenades equals multi-kills, Garrick! What did you expect?!

Burns: C'MON! LET'S GO! LET'S GO! GET TO SAFETY! RUN!

[Smoke Grenade detonation]

Captain Price: Smoke ahead! Be careful!

Roach: Thank God I keep thermals with me.

[L86 LSW SOCOM fire]

Roach: Smokescreen, clear! Cut through the souvenir shop! It's safer!

Captain Price: Shop, copy!

Burns: RUN! GO!

Roach: Concourse ends here! There's a staircase!

[AK-105 fire]

[Saiga-12 fire]

[L86 LSW SOCOM fire]

Roach: Run! GO! Two Tangos down at the bottom of the staircase!

Captain Price: Third floor's our target! Taking point!

[PP-19 Vityaz fire]

[AK-74M UUK fire]

[Five-seveN USG fire]

[S.A.S. Dagger hit]

Roach: Two more down in the middle of the stairs!

Captain Price: Copy. Next floor, Bravo.

[Five-seveN USG fire]

[C8 SFW fire]

[Captain Price angrily snarls]

Roach: Two additional Tangos down at the top of the stairs! *checks British Male 2* Christ! Civilian down! Be more careful next time, you dumb shit!

Captain Price: Yeah, whatever. Kyle, on me. Hooley.

Kyle: Watch your mouth with the Captain, you cockroach. *gives Captain Price Tactical Breaching Crowbar*

Roach: Get up and get outta here, ma'am. Run!

Burns: VIP Lounge should be on the other side of these doors.

Captain Price: *pries doors open* Then let's get in there.

[Kyle holsters Captain Price's Tactical Breaching Crowbar]

5 minutes of survivor rescuing and terrorist murdering later, this particular flashback is about to come to a close. As Bravo Team would then task Roach and Burns to secure the Third Floor VIP Lounge and exfiltrate on their own while they went after Kingfish/Czar 9-0 Actual.

And the rest is history.

[doors open]

Captain Price: Special Forces!

Kyle: Hands! Show your hands!

British Paramedic 1: First responders! Don't shoot!

Captain Price: How did you get in here?

British Paramedic 1: Security! Security let us in.

Captain Price: Who are you with?

British Paramedic 1: Please, we are trying to save lives.

British Paramedic 2: Shit! This man's going into shock! You, *points at Kyle* soldier, he needs help stat!

British Paramedic 3: Guys! These people need to get to a hospital now!

[Kyle checks British Male 3]

Burns: Gun!

[GSh-18 Tactical fire]

[bullet hits]

[Kyle painfully grunts]

[L86 LSW SOCOM fire]

[C8 SFW fire]

[P226 MK25 fire]

[C8 SFW fire]

Burns: All five X-Rays down!

Captain Price: Staff Sergeant, you broken?

Kyle: Just the plate. I'm good. *exhales* Can't believe these medics were deep cover Inner Circle.

[Roach helps Kyle up]

Burns: Checking the medic bags. Cover me. They're full of explosives, alright. This WAS their next target.

Captain Price: Bravo 6 to Watcher, explosives located in the VIP area. No sign of Kingfish yet, over.

Laswell: Copy, make it safe. First police responders have set up a cordon, so Makarov will have to exfil fast. We're 5 Mikes out. Don't let him escape, John.

Captain Price: Never, Kate. See you soon.

Burns: Underground Driveway's his best escape route now.

Captain Price: Agreed. Burns, Roach, secure the explosives, then get yourselves home.

Burns: Copy. Getting to it now.

[doors open]

Roach: Handle Kingfish with extreme caution, gents. Work your magic, Burns. I'll establish security.

Burns: Cheers, mate. Incomplete mastery of Explosive Ordnance Disposal, don't fail me now.

Roach: You can do it. Just don't rush like a certain Captain I know.

Burns: *chuckles* Damn.

Back in the present, while the business relationship between Bravo Team, backed by Metal Team, and Alpha Team ft. Red Coat is tense, and Hotel Team feels caught in the middle, everyone is still able to put the differences aside once Watcher receives fresh and actionable intel from her C.I.A. co-workers and British and Russian counterparts.

Captain Price: I shouldn't have stopped you.

Soap: It was the right thing at the time, Cap'n.

Ghost and Red Coat: At the time.

Grinch: Hey, Red Coat, shut the fuck up.

Kyle: More like Turncoat. You were always more Yank than Brit, just like Baseplate.

Red Coat: Well, not all callsigns define one's actual self. Do I need to remind you all of how Soap got his callsign?

[3 second pause]

Red Coat: Didn't think so.

Captain Price: Enough reminiscing. Roach may have had his uses, but he was a useless, cocky little shit at the end.

Gaz: Cocky little shit? Don't make me fucking laugh.

Colonel MacMillan: Him a cocky little shit? That's a bit rich coming from you, John.

Captain Price: Are you sure about that, Mac?

Soap: Now hold on.

Ghost: Sirs, calm down.

Colonel MacMillan: Don't you fucking dare. Roach offered himself up to the S.A.S. just to keep Red Coat in the Special Boat Service. And I swore to God that I would find a way to bring him back to where his heart, mind and soul truly belonged and keep the FUCKING government from touching them again.

Captain Price: You want me to put you back in the fucking wheelchair, old cunt?!

Colonel MacMillan: TRY IT!

Cypher: Yeah, try it, Captain Britain! We dare you!

Wallcroft: We double dare you!

Griffen: We triple dare!

Burns: We quadruple dare you!

Ridley: We quintuple dare—

Soap: TASK FORCE 141! STAND the FUCK DOWN! WE GOT BIGGER PROBLEMS TO WORRY ABOUT!

Ghost: WE ARE HERE TO OPERATE! NOT TO ARGUE!

Laswell: Soap and Ghost are right. I just got a lead on Makarov's payroll.

Colonel MacMillan: At least some of you got their heads out of the clouds.

Captain Price: What good is the Inner Circle's money, Kate?

Laswell: We follow the money, we find the man, John. We have a name and a location.

Captain Price: Okay.

Nikolai: I will get my aircraft ready.

Captain Price: Bravo, Hotel, Metal, you watch your backs. I'm starting to regret bringing in reinforcements.

Soap: I'm not. We need the extra hands, sir.

Ghost: Boss, we ask for help when we need it all the time. This is no different.

Kyle: *sighs* They're right. Road to Hell or not, MacTavish and Riley are right. *shakes head*

Sandman: Sir, we got this. Truck, Grinch, you still with me?

Truck: Hell yes, Sandman.

Grinch: You know it, Sandman.