Oh god what's happening

Jade took his hand for a strong handshake from him, “Colonel Vargas! Pleasure to meet you.” 

“Nice to meet you. I’ve heard good things about you from Laswell.” He sounded delighted.

"Call me Jade, Sir. Have the others arrived?"

“You’re the first one to arrive. I believe the others will follow shortly.” Nodding to the Mexican, Jade glanced over Alejandro's shoulder to see a man in the driver's seat of one of the LUVs, who was looking at her as well. 

The ex-MI6 instinctively lifted a gloved hand and waved kindly to him. The man seemed to question her gesture as his expression turned into confusion, nervously waving back at her.

Looking back, Alejandro smiled at her, "That's my second-in-command, Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra. You can wait inside if you want to have a chat."

That sounded great. From the looks of it, Rodolfo seemed like a nice friend and ally to have. "Sure. I'll see you inside." 

Jade moved her legs to the side of the car, opened the side door and sat on the middle row, looking at the sergeant. "Hello there. I’m Jade." 

"Hola, Jade. Rodolfo Parra." His gentle voice greeted her, twisting his body to face her.

"Nice to meet you.” She took a glance at his gears. “So Rodolfo, how long have you known the Colonel?" Jade questioned as she tried to make a conversation. Knowing your allies would prove useful in the future (not in a blackmail sense, that's for sure). 

"I've known the colonel since even before my enlistment. We both grew up here, so it's only natural that we’re close.” According to Laswell, Alejandro and his team were locals of the city, so that confirmed it. “All we want to do is to protect our home. We share the same goal, same spirit.” 

"Same enemy?”

"That as well.” Rodolfo replied. “You’ll see for yourself very soon.”

About half an hour after her arrival, another sound of an aircraft landing caught her attention. Jade watched from the window as the engines died down, and when the rear door opened, she could see two figures of men walking out into the tarmac. 

One of them she recognized as Sergeant John MacTavish; his muscular figure and the iconic mohawk were a dead giveaway. He’s the one who hand-shook Colonel Vargas, while on his right, there stood the man himself.

“Lieutenant. Laswell says they call you Ghost.”

“Actually, I believe he prefers to be called–”

“That’ll do.” 

Jade giggled involuntarily at their interaction. Was it just her or did Ghost get bigger since the last time she saw him? He’s looking like an absolute tank in those heavy gears of his, and that mask…

“Is that who they call Ghost?” Rudy’s voice interrupted her thoughts. He was looking outside the window as the three men walked towards the vehicle. The Mexican’s voice sounded eager but she could tell from his face that there was a tinge of nervousness on his face. 

“Don’t worry, Rodolfo. He’s a friend.” A terrifying-looking friend. “You’ll be glad he’s on our side.”

“Shepherd’s contractors are inbound to reinforce, they’re bringing hardware. They’ll need room.”

“My base is your base.”

“Good, now where’s Hassan?”

“Cartel safe house, ten clicks from here. Get in.” 

The SAS operators stepped into the vehicle, sitting on their respective seats along with Colonel Vargas who was riding shotgun right beside Rudy. “This is my second in command, Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra.”

“Tengo miedo de los fantasmas…” The colonel grinned in amusement at his subordinate’s retort, before looking back at the men. 

“You two were the last ones to arrive. The team is now complete.” 

Soap raised his eyebrows at Alejandro’s statement, looking at Ghost, “The last? You mean there’s more than us?” 

“Ya miss me?” 

The sudden feminine voice startled both men. They instantly looked back at the source of the voice, recognizing the ginger, who was leaning in between their seats with her elbows. 

“Creepin’ Jesus, Jade! Where did you come from?!” Soap didn’t manage to hide the surprise on his face, his hands looked like he was about to give her a good punch, while Ghost looked to the front, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

“Fucking hell, Midget– Why are you here?” 

There it was. She actually doubted whether or not the man under the mask is the same one from the man she met three years ago. Seemed like he was indeed the very same Ghost; same gravelly voice, same foul mouth, and the same nickname. 

Looking at their reaction, though, Jade inquired, “Wait, Kate didn’t tell you boys I’m coming?”

“No? We were told there will only be us, plus the Shadows.” Soap answered her question, still looking back at the MI6 agent.

“Huh.” Smacking her lips, she smiled at both of the SAS, “Looks like I was an afterthought in her mind. Someone needed to watch over you guys.”

Ghost scoffed, “We don’t need you to watch over us, Midget. Just don’t be a burden to us.” 

“I promise I won’t.” 

The sound of Alejandro clearing his throat interrupted their conversations, the three Brits finally looking to the front and finding both Mexicans had been observing their banters with amused faces. “You guys seem familiar with each other. That’s good.” The older of the two spoke. “You speak Spanish?” 

“No.” Soap answered.

“A little.” Jade answered.

The lieutenant remained still.

“You will.” 

—

Las Almas was a beautiful city, she must give credit where it’s due. Splashes of colors painted the walls of the houses and buildings that looked like they were stacked together along the elevation of the hills. The place was lively with children running around, cars roaming around, locals walking together, shops and carts scattered across the streets. 

Soap had been on edge since he saw the armed soldiers. Every corner she glanced to, Jade saw another pair of them guarding the town. The men continued to converse between themselves, how the city was currently ridden with guns and soldiers-turned-Narco. 

“Why not you?” Ghost inquired towards Alejandro, regarding his disaffiliations with the Narcos.

Alejandro's eyes glanced towards Rodolfo, “We grew up here. They call us Los Vaqueros… Cowboys. We love this place, and we will die fighting for it.”

His words tugged a string in Jade’s heart. Las Almas was indeed a nice town, and an even nicer place to stay. She could already imagine the parks, the cafes, the cozy restaurants people would visit and share memories with. What would be the best food that this town could offer? Which family would host the best party? What band could light up the whole street with musics and festivities? Jade could safely say that Alejandro and Rudy already knew the answers to those questions. 

As their convoy turned around the corner, Soap glanced at a small child buying a balloon who had a Narco holding a gun by his side. 

He turned to Ghost, “Kids, guns, and balloons… that’s a new one.” 

The way the masked man just sat there in silence had Jade holding her laugh in. 

“Narcos use generosity to win over the people.” Alejandro replied.

“Even the children?”

“Especially the children.” Rodolfo confirmed as he stopped near an alleyway, where a yellow police line had been placed. They observed through the window as two dead bodies laid on the bloody cobblestones, covered with white cloth full of writings on it. 

All the passengers of their vehicle eyed the scene, “What’s on those sheets?” 

“Narcomantas…”

“Cartel clothes.”

“Messages from El Sin Nombre. Warnings, marking territory.” Alejandro’s voice was full of genuine concern. Jade observed his face from the rearview mirror, wondering how many bodies had been covered with the Narcomantas this week alone. 

That moniker caught Ghost’s attention. “Who’s Sin Nombre?”

“El Sin Nombre. The Nameless… Leader of the Las Almas Cartel.” 

Jade leaned her body forward, putting both of her forearms on either side of Ghost and Soap’s seat.

“Where can we find him?” 

“You can’t. No one knows who he is. But he is everywhere. And this is a challenge. But Los Vaqueros like challenges.” Alejandro smirked, looking at his friend, who shared the same sentiment.

That feeling seemed to extend towards the back of the car as Rodolfo retorted, “With your mask, you will fit in well here, Ghost.”

Jade couldn’t hold back her laugh anymore. She blew raspberries on a volume that was proven concerning to Soap, looking as he stared back at Jade with a very concerned look. His hands made a gesture, indicating she needed to stop what she’s doing immediately.

Ghost’s eyes thinned beneath the darkness of his mask, looking at both Rudy and Jade on the rearview mirror with a dangerous gaze.

 “Oy, calmada.” Rudy quickly dropped his grin when his joke didn’t land with the humongous Brit. 

Jade was still giggling on the back, prompting Ghost to turn his head agonizingly slow towards her.

“Ehem.” She cleared her throat to regain her composure. Once Ghost turned back to the front again, Jade tried her luck, whispering in a low voice where only he could hear it. “That was funny though.”

Ghost turned his masked head towards her again, her bait clearly worked. “What?” Her shoulders lifted up in a shrug.

“Checkpoint. It’s the army. Turn right, we’ll go around.” Alejandro’s voice alarmed both of them. Military cars blocked the streets and the cars that were travelling, checking the drivers for ID’s. 

“Why?”

“Some troops are in the pocket of El Sin Nombre. Like I told you, he is everywhere.” Rudy and the convoy then turned right towards another block.

“Cartel is hiding Hassan in a village across the river. Let’s hope he’s still there.”

–

Arriving at the village around the outskirts of Las Almas, Alejandro spoke to his radio in Spanish, to which Jade translated in her mind as a call to get ready. All the soldiers then opened the doors of the vehicle, stepping out into the grassland. Sounds of rifles and guns loading immediately filled the air, accompanied by Spanish chatters among the soldiers.

While the Brits secured their gears, Ghost suddenly started, 

“Stay close, Midget. Don't run off like you did.”

That nickname made her cheek twitch, making her turn around towards the masked man. “Run off? I did not 'run off', Beanpole.”

“Yes you did, in Verdansk– What about now? You still have your own mission from Laswell? Or from MI6?” The man walked slowly towards Jade, clearly imposing his larger frame in front of her smalled one. “Strange how I didn't get any prior knowledge about your involvement in this mission – like three years ago.”

Their chatter started to turn heads in the group. Soap, who took notice of this tried to warn them. “Guys…”

“It was different.”  

“How so?”  Ghost questioned sternly, mask leaning down.

Soap rolled his eyes in surrender.“Here we go…” 

“You had your mission in the Armistice. I had my mission to retrieve the files that Zakhaev had stolen. We just happened to be on the same road.” Jade defended.

“I will never trust an MI6 black agent with hidden interests to cover my back.”

“Said the bloke who hides behind a mask.”

“Enough!”

Alejandro’s shout snapped Ghost and Jade from their arguments. They looked around, finding all eyes were on them the entire time.

“Lieutenant, I don't know what issues you have with Jade, but we are about to go find Hassan, and we can't do this smoothly if we are not working together. Comprendes?” The colonel voiced his thoughts in a tone which allowed no room for excuse. Both Brits read his intention clearly, though, seeing as they distanced themselves. 

“…Yes, Sir.”

“My apologies, Coronel.”

Alejandro didn’t reply further, only continuing to converse on his radio in Spanish all the while the Brits continued to prepare their gears. 

After a few minutes of preparation, the group finally arrived in front of the house complex where they suspected Hassan’s whereabouts. Just before their entry, Jade whispered behind Ghost, who stood in front of her.“If it’s any consolation to you, Beanpole. You can gut me if I suddenly turn out to have my own mission.”  

“That’s a promise, then.”

---

“Phoebe MacTavish! Get your wee feet here before I pick your legs off of that floo–! Oh, Hello there.” A new voice came from in front of him, revealing herself to be an old woman with dark brown hair, though with white strands and the same quizzical brow that reminded Price of Soap. She looked strong, nonetheless, wearing a green shirt and knitted vest with a towel hanging from one of her shoulders, obviously to dry the little girl after a session of swimming in their estate’s pool. 

Price stood back up, greeting the lady. “Mrs. MacTavish.” 

The old woman looked at his attire up and down, and Price swore that he saw the gears rotating inside her mind. She looked down at the girl and gave her the white towel, “Phoebe. Go inside and dry yourself. Find your Da, Aunt Rachel, and Uncle Hugh, too. Tell them to meet me at the front door, yeah?” The little girl nodded and ran inside, disappearing into the house as Price heard a faint yelling from the same child, calling for the stated family members. 

Now, the lady in front of him walked closer to the doorway, face to face with him. She’s undoubtedly no taller than 5’7”, a height that might have been receding as time went by, but you could spot a proud MacTavish wherever you see one. Price offered his hand for a handshake as she accepted. “Captain John Price from the 22 SAS Regiment.” 

“Joan MacTavish.” She replied. Price noticed the name as the name on Soap’s file as his guardian, with the relation being marked with ‘Aunt’. “What brings you here, Captain?” Her face looked neutral like it wasn’t the first time a soldier with a full dress uniform knocked on this wooden door. 

Just before Price could say what he wanted to say, a deep voice called to her. “Mum?” One woman and two men with a frame similar to him showed up from inside the house. One man was around Ghost’s age, one was around his age, while the woman in a bun looked older than him, though looking very vibrant and professional. All of them had the same thick eyebrows – Family traits, he supposed – and clearly looked like honourable but firm Scottish people. Upon seeing Price, though, their faces changed from confusion to realization. 

Price remembered that Soap was not the first MacTavish in the SAS. In fact, there was another member of the family, Oliver MacTavish, who died in the line of duty a decade ago. Price remembered the way Soap had told the story of Ollie, his cousin, bringing his little arse to the SAS base  - however unpermitted it was – and how Price had busted Soap multiple times for applying with a fake age. 

“Rachel MacTavish.” The eldest one spoke.

“Hugh MacTavish.” The elder man said, followed by the younger.

“Scott MacTavish. That was my daughter, Phobe.” They all shook hands with Price. 

He repeated his greeting, before Rachel started,

“I've seen the likes of you before. I recognize that beret even from a mile away." She said firmly. "Out with it."

The captain's breath hitched as he cleared his throat, preparing himself to deliver the news. And so, he began.

"On November 21st, our target had placed an active bomb inside the underwater tunnel that connects the UK and France. During our attempt to defuse the bomb, the target sneaked from behind our line of sight…"

The whole family's face changed, Joan's eyes looked glassy with tears seeming like she knew of the incoming words.

"And I regret to inform you… that Sergeant John MacTavish has died in the line of duty."

Ghost, without his mask and black face paint around his eyes, and Gaz with their dress uniforms and beret could only stand from the base of the stairs, watching and hearing as Joan's cry of anguish tear through the morning sky. 

"Oh Lord. Johnny. Johnny. My baby, Johnny." Joan repeated his name like a chanting to the sky. "Why must You take him so soon? Why must he join Ollie so soon?"

The whole family hugged their mother as she wailed, her knees looked like it was giving up. Gaz gritted his teeth to strengthen himself, not wanting to break down to cry himself. 

As the family cried, Price could only stand still, letting the news sink in for the family. His job as the leader of the team was done, at that point. He delivered the news to his family. 

"The bomb…Did he defuse it?" Hugh questioned in the middle of his sobs. 

"He–" Price swallowed, remembering the way Makarov had killed him. "We were both defusing the bomb, John guiding me along the way as he was the demolition expert."

"He protected me, Sir. Our target was about to shoot me, before John stopped him - and got killed instead. The target ran away, but me and Sergeant Garrick managed to defuse the bomb thanks to his prior guidance, saving thousands of lives underneath the 30-mile underwater tunnel." Price answered as Rachel looked up at his face, anger and denial filling her in an instant. 

She raised her hand in such a way that Price knew that she was about to slap him. Price still opened his eyes, fully welcoming the slap before her hand stopped. 

Rachel bit her lips so hard that it might bleed, lowering her arm.

"...Why does it have to be Johnny? Why do you get to live and he doesn't?" She barely whispered in a shaky voice, going back to wiping her face again. “Why Johnny…?”

And Price asked that question every single hour ever since his death. 

Why Soap, and not him?

—

The MacTavishes requested for Soap's body to be sent to Scotland, where they held a memorial at the MacTavish estate to which they promptly honoured. The number of family members participating was not that many, considering only the immediate family attended. Price, Soap, and Ghost joined them, and even escorted the family as they travelled to the crematorium.

After the whole procession finished – that took the entire day – the family finally had possession of the urn containing Soap's ashes, and they invited the three back to the estate, where they now sit inside the guest room and tea in front of them with Joan and Rachel, his urn placed on a table beside Joan.

That was the day they learned that Soap was actually the son of Joan's late husband's younger sister. Soap's mother – her sister-in-law, died when she birthed Soap, while Soap's father died during an accident in a factory before his own birth. 

Soap had been raised by his uncle's family since his infancy, growing up in the MacTavish house as a strong and firm Scott under the wing of the eldest brother, Oliver. 

"He's always wanted to be like Ollie, that wee kid," Rachel told them after holding a photo album containing photos of Soap when he was a baby in his late uncle's arms, a photo of him and his older cousins playing with mud, photos of his graduations from school, and photos of him passing the test to be a part of SAS along with his cousin, Oliver. "Said he didn't want to go to school. Just visit the army base every day. It's what he dreamed of."

Ghost, still in his dress uniform, felt the most vulnerable in that room - Without his mask, in front of Johnny's family. He also had been in agony for the past day, because he'd failed to cover Johnny's back. He had one job at that time, and he failed, catastrophically. He only sat there with his hands joined in his lap, not daring to look at the family in the eyes. 

"We're very thankful for John's service with us. He was the best there is." Gaz spoke, "John's memory will live with us."

"Thank you, Sergeant Garrick." Joan smiled as she looked up. "I heard you share the same quarters with him in the barracks. I hope he wasn't too much of a naughty boy."

The sergeant chuckled lightly at that, "Well. Soap wasn't someone who could stay away from mischief too long, but I assure you that he's an absolute joy and inspiration to be around." Hearing Joan's laughter cured a little part in Gaz, as the only thing he'd heard from her was the sound of her cry. He could at least pride himself in knowing that he could share Soap's merry nature.

As they share memories, Price finished his tea before he stood up from the sofa, followed by the other two. "Well. We must take our leave, Ma'am. Thank you for the tea."

"Anytime." Joan spoke as the soldiers started to leave the sofa, heading towards the main room and front door. 

"Which one of ya’s is ‘LT’?"

Rachel’s voice stopped the men in their tracks, particularly Ghost’s. All three men turned around, finding the woman holding Soap’s urn in her hands. Price saw how Ghost's face turned to that of a deer in a spotlight, so he put his hand behind Ghost’s back to lightly push him towards Rachel, but Ghost’s hesitancy was apparent in the way he slowly walked. 

“...That would be me, Ma’am.” Ghost’s deep voice rumbled softly as he looked down to Rachel’s height. The lady herself observed him up and down with a negative face that she could convince him that he was standing there naked. 

“Yer tryin’ so hard to make yourself look small for such a big man. It’s almost dreading.” She started, her hips shifting. “I’ve been the CEO of MacTavish Furnitures since my da’ passed away and Ollie decided to go to the army, and I read people like a book. For someone whom Johnny admired the most – and repeatedly spoke about – you don’t look like the LT I heard from him.” Ghost was starstruck at the statement. Soap, talking about him to his family? “I expected you to be cocky and exude pride in your steps, but all I’m seein’ is just a pathetic, sad bloke.” 

Ghost stood still at those comments. No one practically had ever roasted him this badly in front of his teammates. He wondered if he showed up in his other attire, she’d dare to say all this. But then again, if someone got to do it, he was glad that it came from an honourable woman of the MacTavish bloodline. 

What caught him off guard was her hands stretching towards him, holding Soap’s urn in front of his chest. Ghost looked down at the metal container, looking confused as he looked up again to face Rachel. He thought the MacTavishes were going to hold on to Soap’s urn, and they get to keep Soap’s dog tags. However, clearly, the current head of the family had other wishes.

“Take Johnny with ya. Being trapped inside this urn for eternity in this old house would be the last thing he wanted.” The woman started with a shaky voice, her eyes starting to brim with tears again. Seeing Soap’s character, Ghost could understand that completely. 

“He’s… the proudest he could ever be when he’s with ya’s." Rachel continued. 

"So I ask you, as our brother’s comrades, to hold on to Johnny – and free him.” 

Ghost’s eyes opened wide in surprise, still couldn’t fathom how fondly Soap must've talked about his teammates, especially him, to his family that they’d give him his ashes. Ghost lifted his hands to carefully receive the urn. 

After breathing deeply, Ghost stood straight, holding Soap firmly. 

“We will, Ma’am.”

—

The three of them walked towards the car parked just outside the MacTavish estate with Ghost holding Soap’s urn in his hands. They all took off their berets and entered the car, Price the designated driver, Gaz riding shotgun, while Ghost sat in the backseat. 

“So what do we do with him, Sir?” Gaz rotated his body to look at Soap’s urn on Ghost’s hands, same as Price.

Ghost contemplated in his mind, staring at the metal urn, before speaking, “Where’s Johnny’s place of birth?” 

Price answered immediately as he’s the one who took care of Soap’s documents. “Isle of Skye.” 

“Soap said there’s a beautiful cliff where he and his cousins used to go to play. Endless sea where the eyes could see.” Gaz added.

“Then that’s where we’re goin’.” Ghost spoke with finality. “And then we’ll let Johnny go.”

Price and Gaz nodded to each other. "Alright, Soap. Let's get you home." The captain started the car and stepped on the gas, beginning their journey towards the Isle of Skye.

---