War of Hearts

Chapter Thirty-Six - Crossroads

Price, Farah, and Gaz were locked in a room with Andrei Nolan in a remote corner building of the Urzikstan Liberation Force base. Hex and Ghost had finally made their way back to the team gliding their way through and feeling light as a feather. Laswell was posted outside the door waiting patiently, and Soap was rather impatiently pacing back and forth. As the sound of footsteps on dirt and sand approached, he snapped his head up to the two of them, not allowing himself a moment to process the state they were in before he ran up to Hex to blurt his regrets. "Please don't hate me, I thought I was doing the right thing, I thought- "

She yanked him into a hug and cut off his stammering apology. A shaky sigh of relief sounded over her shoulder as she pulled him close. "You know I could never hate you. It's okay."

He squeezed her so tight he might have left bruises, forcing a strained noise out of Hex followed by a laugh. When he pulled away he was gave a cautious and curious look to her and Ghost. "And you guys are...?"

Ghost nodded. "We're good."

His eyes lit up with intrigue, but he forced himself to be satisfied with that answer for now. Laswell pushed off the wall and strode over to them, placing a compassionate squeeze on Hex's arm.

She smiled her appreciation at the gesture, and asked, getting right back to business, "what's the state of play with Nolan?"

Laswell huffed. "Little less conversational than he was."

The door opened behind her and Price stepped out with a satisfied smirk as he entered the conversation. "Yeah, more the silent type now."

Farah walked out behind him, looking around before locking eyes with Hex and rushing over to her, placing a firm grip on her shoulders while looking her up and down. The concerned expression asked all the questions for her, and Hex answered with a reassuring nod.

Gaz popped out last and shook his head. "Well, they're at war with the world, that's for sure. He's got blind faith in Makarov."

Laswell pulled out Nolan's phone. "Makarov needs him, been contacting him non-stop. He knows something's wrong. I intercepted their comms. Nolan may have gotten quiet but his radio and phone speak volumes. They're delivering someone or something to an abandoned Soviet prison complex."

"Where and when?" Gaz asked.

"Siberia. Tomorrow."

The air seemed to stiffen around them. Price's face became hardened. "This is our shot at Makarov."

"There are no guarantees he's there..."

"We'll take that chance."

"I knew you would."

Price looked to the group. "I want everyone in on this. When we gear up in the morning, get C4 and dry gear."

Soap huffed and leaned over to Hex. "We're gettin' wet."

She smiled. "So is Makarov."

The next morning

Soap and Farah took position on a snowy hill at the edge of a rocky treeline to scout and provide cover. "Bravo 7-1 to Watcher-1, I'm in position with Kilo. Bravo's in the water."

"Copy. Where's our incoming?"

"Convoy approaching Southeast, four vehicles."

"Any sign of Makarov?"