#sheppard

The blast had knocked the wind out of you, but the eerie silence afterward was worse. Dust clouded your vision, and the faint smell of smoke lingered as you struggled to orient yourself. Price’s voice was the first thing you registered, low but firm.

“On your feet, now.”

You coughed and blinked, his hand already pulling you up before you could respond. The ache in your side was sharp, but adrenaline shoved the pain aside.

“Are you hit?” he asked, his eyes scanning you for injuries.

“No, I’m good,” you lied, your voice hoarse.

He didn’t buy it, but there wasn’t time for an argument. The corridor ahead was barely intact, crumbling debris blocking the way you’d come. “We’re cut off,” Price muttered, glancing at the rubble. His expression darkened as he keyed his radio.

“Ghost, Soap, Gaz, do you copy?”

Static.

Price grimaced, slamming his radio against the wall. “Damn it.”

You adjusted your weapon, stepping closer. “We’re on our own, then?”

“For now.” His tone left no room for doubt. “Stay close and keep your eyes open. We’re not out of this yet.”

Elsewhere, Ghost, Soap, and Gaz were pacing the extraction point, their movements tense and restless.

“They should’ve been here by now,” Soap said, glancing toward the horizon.

Gaz checked his watch for the third time, shaking his head. “Something’s wrong. They were farther ahead of us to just go radio silent like this.”

Ghost stood apart from the others, his arms crossed and his gaze fixed on the direction you and Price had last been seen. “We’re not leaving without them,” he said, his voice low but resolute.

Soap frowned, his usual levity nowhere to be found. “We don’t even know where to start looking.”

Ghost turned to him, his tone razor-sharp. “We start where we lost them. Move out.”

You and Price moved cautiously through the ruins, the air heavy with tension. The facility had been abandoned for years, but the explosion had stirred something—or someone—awake.

“Feel like we’re being watched,” you muttered, gripping your rifle tighter.

Price nodded, his gaze darting to the shadows. “We are.”

A flicker of movement to your left made you freeze, and Price’s hand shot up, signaling you to stay quiet. The faint click of a safety being disengaged was all the warning you got before the first shot rang out.

“Cover!” Price barked, shoving you behind a metal beam as bullets tore through the air.

The firefight was chaotic, the attackers relentless and precise. These weren’t amateurs—they moved with calculated precision, forcing you and Price into a defensive position.

“Who the hell are these guys?” you shouted over the noise, your back pressed against the cold metal.

“Don’t know,” Price growled, reloading his weapon. “But they’re not here by accident.”

Just as you peeked out to fire, a sharp pain exploded at the back of your head, and the world went dark.

Soap and Gaz followed Ghost back into the wreckage, their movements careful but purposeful. The damage was extensive, the aftermath of the explosion making navigation difficult.

“You think they’re still in here?” Soap asked, his voice unusually quiet.

“They are,” Ghost said firmly.

“What makes you so sure?”

Ghost paused, kneeling to inspect a small object on the ground. He held it up—a bloodied knife, unmistakably yours. His grip tightened, and he stood without a word, his focus unwavering.

Gaz exhaled sharply. “We’ve gotta move fast.”

When you woke, your hands were bound, and a splitting headache pulsed at your temples. The room was dimly lit, and the faint sound of voices echoed from somewhere nearby.

Price was beside you, his head tilted forward as if he was unconscious. You nudged him with your shoulder. “Price,” you whispered urgently.

He stirred, groaning softly as he lifted his head. His face was bruised, a cut on his temple still bleeding. “You alright?” he asked, his voice rough.

“Could ask you the same,” you muttered.

Before either of you could say more, the door creaked open, and heavy boots entered the room. Your stomach twisted as the figure stepped into the light, their face unmistakable.

It was none other than General Shepherd, the man responsible for countless betrayals in the past. His presence here was impossible—and yet, there he stood, a cruel smile tugging at his lips.

“Well, isn’t this a sight?” Shepherd drawled, his voice calm but laced with menace. “Captain Price and his little protégé. I almost missed you two.”

Price’s expression hardened, his hands straining against his bindings. “Shepherd,” he spat. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

Shepherd chuckled, crouching in front of you. “Supposed to be, yes. But you know how hard I am to kill.”

He turned his attention to you, his gaze unsettling. “And you… You’re new to this little game, aren’t you? Shame you got caught up in it.”

“Go to hell,” you snapped, earning a sharp slap across the face.

“Careful,” Shepherd said, his tone icy. “You’ve got spirit. Let’s see how long that lasts.”

Back with the team, Ghost was unrelenting in his search. Every clue, every faint trail, he pursued with singular focus. Soap and Gaz followed, their determination matching his despite the growing tension.

“You’re pushing too hard,” Soap muttered as they moved through another corridor.

Ghost shot him a glare. “Not hard enough. We’re running out of time.”

Gaz stepped between them, his tone calm but firm. “Focus. They’re counting on us.”

They pressed on, the weight of the situation pressing heavily on their shoulders.

Hours blurred together as Shepherd’s men interrogated you and Price, their methods brutal and relentless. The room reeked of blood and sweat, and your body ached from the repeated blows.

“You’re wasting your time,” Price growled, his voice hoarse but unwavering. His words were met with another strike, but he refused to give them the satisfaction of a reaction.

Shepherd smirked from the corner of the room, watching the scene unfold with detached amusement. “You always were stubborn, John. I’d say it’s admirable, but really, it’s just pathetic at this point.”

“And you’re still a snake,” Price shot back, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.

“Call me what you like,” Shepherd replied, leaning against the wall. “But while you’re here playing the martyr, your team is walking straight into my trap.”

Your heart sank at his words, and you exchanged a glance with Price. Neither of you spoke, but the unspoken dread was clear in his eyes.

Meanwhile, Ghost, Soap, and Gaz had tracked you and Price to an abandoned compound deep in the forest. The perimeter was heavily guarded, patrols moving in precise formations.

“Bloody fortress,” Soap muttered, lowering his binoculars.

Ghost stayed silent, his gaze fixed on the guards. His mind was racing, calculating the risks and weighing the odds.

“We’ll have to split up,” he finally said.

“That’s suicide,” Gaz argued.

“It’s the only way to cover ground quickly,” Ghost countered. “We don’t have time to play it safe.”

Soap sighed, his usual humor nowhere to be found. “Fine. But if we screw this up…”

“We won’t,” Ghost interrupted. His tone left no room for debate.

Inside the compound, Shepherd received a report from one of his men. His smirk widened as he turned back to you and Price.

“They’re here,” he said casually, as if discussing the weather. “Right on schedule.”

Price tensed, his muscles coiled like a spring. “If you hurt them—”

“What?” Shepherd interrupted, stepping closer. “You’ll stop me? From where you’re sitting, John, you’re in no position to make threats.”

He crouched in front of you, his expression darkening. “And you… You’ve got a choice to make. Help me bring your team to their knees, or watch them die one by one. Starting with him.” He nodded toward Price.

You glared at him, your resolve hardening. “Go to hell.”

Shepherd’s smile faded, replaced by cold fury. “Wrong answer.”

Outside the compound, Ghost led the team closer, their movements silent and precise. They’d taken out a few guards without raising the alarm, but the tension was suffocating.

As they approached the main building, Ghost stopped suddenly, his hand signaling for the others to freeze. He’d spotted something—a faint light flickering in one of the upper windows.

“That’s them,” he said quietly, his voice like steel.

“Are we going in loud or quiet?” Soap whispered.

Ghost’s grip tightened on his weapon. “We go in smart. And we don’t leave without them.”

Back at the compound Shepherd gives an order, his voice calm but deadly: “Bring them to me. Alive. For now.”

At the same time, Ghost and the team breach the compound, the sound of gunfire erupting as chaos unfolds.

To be continued…