Chapter Text
Captain John Price watched the constant flurry of snowfall from the darkening sky as it finally hit the light of the scattered streetlights that dotted the village. He and the team walked down an icy road in the town of Luster in Norway, wrapped in heavy coats, snow boots, hats, scarves and gloves. The Captain took the front, smoking a cigar with Ghost following closely behind, while the other four were in a group. They were there to meet Laswell and a recruit Price had picked. Someone he had known once upon a time, and had heard stories of her success in the British and Norwegian Armies.
So here they were, in her hometown, to recruit and run over the recent mission with Laswell.
The five entered the village's local pub, where traditional Nordic folk music played softly in the background. A fire roared at one end of the building in a stone fireplace. A TV hung above the fireplace, showing what seemed to be a Norwegian News channel. Every occupant in that room had their eyes glued to the screen, with expressions ranging from disturbed to angered to fearful. The atmosphere was thick and filled with dread; it was all too apparent as if you were walking into a brick wall.
Only a few people bothered to look up at the newcomers, but their glances were brief; the information on the TV seemed much more critical. Keeping his curiosity at bay for the time being, John focused on why they were there in the first place. His eyes scanned the establishment until he saw Kate sitting at the bar, almost out of sight. The two smiled in greeting once their eyes met, and Price approached her, the others following and taking a seat around the bar. They ordered themselves drinks as their Captain spoke to the American.
While the Captain took a sip, he couldn't help but notice that even the bartender seemed wildly distracted by what was on the TV, evident from the lack of effort he was putting into drying the glass in his hands. Following his gaze, Price decided to try to understand what the foreign news channel was telling them.
He watched as the woman continued talking in her native language before the screen showed a video from a phone. The footage was unsteady at times, as if the cameraman was being pushed or running, but Price got a general idea of what was happening. It looked to be some protest—at least, he thought before noticing guns and weapons.
Not a protest, then. Well, not a peaceful one.
People were holding up signs again in a language he wasn't familiar with. However, he didn't recognise it as Norwegian. It wasn't until he saw a symbol on one of the signs that he became interested in it.
The Hammer and Sickle.
He turned to face the bartender, an older man who was tall and large but had a friendly face. He called for him to come over, gaining his team's and Laswell's attention. They watched him curiously, wondering what he wanted since he still had a drink waiting to be drunk. The Norwegian man came over and looked at him expectantly. Price pointed at the television and asked the question:
"What's that all about?"
Upon hearing his query, the man seemed slightly nervous, unsure whether to tell the Englishman something. An expression of conflict crossed his features before he looked around to ensure no one was listening. He didn't want to stir things up with what he'd heard. Leaning in a bit closer, the rest of the team mirrored his movement in hopes of getting an ear in on (what they assumed to be) gossip.
"That is Finland. As we speak, there are riots, robberies and executions taking place. The place has gone into chaos. You saw it, didn't you? The Hammer and Sickle. They're trying to take over again; they've always tried getting Finland to join them. Somehow, they have, and I have no idea how, their government is smarter than that." His accent was thick, but Price could understand if he listened carefully. Hearing his words, a thought immediately flashed through his mind. His eyes flickered to Ghost, who had an element of knowing about his gaze.
'They have rats,'
Price didn't express his thoughts to the man opposite him but instead asked another question.
"Why isn't this on our news? I've not heard about this at all, have you?" he said, looking at Laswell, who shook her head, frowning in confusion at the information she was hearing for the first time.
"Sweden and Norway were threatened. If we asked for help elsewhere, they'd attack with nuclear weapons," the anxious waver in his voice was easy to notice as he gulped at the thought.
"Finland doesn't have nukes, though," Soap said hushedly.
"They do now; they allowed them not long ago." With that, the man pulled away, making it clear he was done with the conversation as he returned to drying. That confirmed that Finland had a traitor in its government, maybe more. Price made eye contact with each of his teammates before swallowing the rest of his gin in one swig.
"Can't we do anything?" Laswell questioned, uneasy and feeling uneasy with the whole situation.
"As of right now, no. We can't risk it. If Finland can't fight back and matters get worse, we'll have to, but it's going to be a messy ordeal," Price watched as his friend's face shifted from slight optimism to complete disappointment. Her head moved downward, her eyes glancing at her watch before looking up and around as if looking for someone.
"That girl of yours is taking her time," Laswell commented, suddenly reminding Price of why they were even there in the first place. He checked his watch, too, only to see that she was late. Somewhat unusual for her.
"Who are you waiting for?" the bartender asked again. "Is she from here?"
"Solvi Elden." The Norwegian's form seemed to deflate even more when he heard the name, a mixture of sorrow and pity swirling in his blue eyes. His head was cast downward momentarily before shifting his gaze toward the Englishman somberly.
"Oh, Solvi. She... she has not had a very good week. " Hearing this, Price's face twitched into a frown of puzzlement. The man hesitated, like he was debating whether he should continue talking. He tutted before following through. He moved a bit closer to avoid anyone listening.
Aside from Finland's somewhat concerning state, Solvi and her family had also been the talk of the town, and many were devastated by the news.
"Her mother and father were killed last week. She found them. And her brother has disappeared... poor boy's only 15," the man said, his expression downcast as he placed a glass down. He seemed to zone out for a moment, staring aimlessly at something under the counter; however, he regained consciousness and proceeded to inform his customers of Solvi's potential current whereabouts. "The funeral was today. She may have forgotten about your meeting."
Price's face visibly sank at the news. Rethinking whether to let her join or not after experiencing something so tragic. Price knew Solvi well, considering she was in the Norwegian Cadets and would occasionally visit during Annual Camps back in the UK.
He still remembered the first time he met her. She was rather shy but willing to do anything with some encouragement. It seemed she thrived over the years, overcoming her timid nature and achieving the rank of Sergeant in the British and Norwegian Army, even earning herself a spot in the SAS. She had mentioned her family to him several times and even met her father once. The man stayed silent, saddened by the news, before nodding.
"Okay, thanks mate," he replied, burying his head in his hands as the bartender left to serve another customer. His heart broke for Solvi. There was no way he could let her join after going through this.
"John? Are you okay?" Kate asked, peering at him sympathetically. Instead of answering the question, Price chose to change the subject entirely.
"Any sign of Shepherd?" the British Captain asked, and Laswell stared at him. Startled by the sudden question, she sighed and turned her head to stare at the wooden worktop with an expression of disappointment.
"Totally off the grid,"
"Well, we'll find him," Price responded. he wasn't too concerned about him at the moment, knowing the coward would be hiding out somewhere for a while.
"No, we've got bigger fish...," Laswell suddenly perked up, gaining everyone else's attention. "I've done some digging on the Russians," the woman admitted, and Price gave her a pointed look.
"Well, that's a dirty job,"
"Ultranationalists ambushed that convoy, John," she warned, but the man wasn't hearing it.
"Kate, it's over," the Captain quickly responded; however, he wasn't entirely convinced that it was. Laswell straightened her posture and faced her friend correctly.
"No... It's not. They're working with someone,"
"Who?" the captain asked, intrigued by this sudden news. The woman pulled out a photograph before placing it face down and sliding it across the table to Price, who picked it up instantly and turned it over to see who this mystery person was.
"We don't know his name," Laswell said as Price looked over to his team, his eyebrows raising in mock surprise. A sudden thought crossed his mind as he glanced at the TV screen, stroking his moustache and beard thoughtfully.
What were the odds?
"He's not new," he said before sliding the photograph over to Gaz, who took a look before passing it on to the next person until it ended up with Bromley. Ghost looked over to his Captain, a particular look in his eyes.
"Who is he?" The American asked, her brows furrowed in curiosity as Price leaned closer to tell her the name. Seeing that stony, serious look in his eye made it clear that this guy was bad news, maybe even worse than Shephard. She'd never seen him like that before.
"Makarov," Price's tone was grave, making Kate's jaw tighten in anticipation. What had this guy done to make Price so worried? Before Kate could respond, the bar's door slammed open, hitting the wall violently and gaining everyone's attention.
Two redheads.
One male and one female appeared, laughing as they pushed and shoved each other around with grins, ignoring the disgruntled stares they earned. Most of the bar's occupants had returned to their work, but the two were still under the watchful eye of most of the team, especially Ghost and Soap. The two noticed the young woman first as she quickly saved a framed photograph swinging harshly from the twins' entrance.
She glared at them as she held the frame still before entering, her gaze lethal. The two men noted her striking ice blue eyes, which pierced those they assumed were her friends, as they messed around loudly.
She looked exhausted, judging by how red her sclerae were and the dark circles that had formed underneath her eyes. She also seemed to be in pain, which was evident from the way she would wince now and then. While Simon didn't think too much of the newcomer and turned back around with a disinterested look in his eyes, Johnny found that gaze to be terrifying and did not want to be on the other end of it. Her hair was platinum blonde and looked very soft and delicate, made into braids. It was a vast contrast to her thick, black attire.
"Ah, there she is," Price said, a small smile on his lips, a warm look entering his eyes when he saw her. Rising from his seat quickly, the movement caught her attention, especially when six other heads turned to look at her simultaneously.
When she realised she was being stared at intently by so many people, Solvi stopped and stared back, frowning slightly at the unknown people and their odd behaviour. The banging headache made it hard to think and see correctly. She could tell they were all in the army by their physique, posture, and dress. One stood out the most, though, and that was only because he was wearing a mask with a skull piece... indoors, too—a strange garb.
Even sitting down, she could tell he was tall and most likely had a large build. She could write a whole novel on that broad back. It wasn't until she recognised one of them that she felt more at ease. The young woman squinted through the dim light and pain, unsure if her eyes were deceiving her. She stepped closer as Price moved into the light, and her face lit up, a mixture of happiness and surprise. Pushing any sign of pain and discomfort away to warmly welcome an old friend.
"Captain Price? What are you-?" She began but stopped midway, and Price knew right there that the memory of their phone call a couple of weeks ago had wiggled its way back into her mind.
"Åh faen!" - (Oh fuck). She brought her hands to her face.
"Captain, I'm so sorry. I completely forgot," the Englishman came over, shaking his head as he placed his hands on her shoulders for reassurance, a slight, playful smirk on his face. Glad to see her again. He noticed her English had improved since the last time he saw her; however, there was still a fairly heavy accent there.
"Hey, hey. It's fine, don't worry about it. Someone filled us in on what's been going on, and besides, you're here anyway," he nodded to the bartender, who smiled weakly at her. She smiled back at him, giving him a nod as thanks. "I'm sorry, Solvi," Price said before pulling her in a hug. Solvi blinked, suddenly feeling tears in her eyes...
If she were to cry now, it would've been the first time since her parents had died and her brother had gone missing. She hesitantly hugged back, appreciating the kind gesture. No one's hugs had satisfied her yearning for comfort, but here Price was, instantly satiating her sad, lonely soul. She wished she could've stayed a little longer in his arms, maybe even cry a bit but two immature twats had to ruin it.
The idiotic drunk pair had decided to bother Price's team in broken English, and Solvi was finally at her wits' end with them. They had already made the day worse than it already was, and they weren't helping this headache, which they most definitely caused. Well.. that and the lack of sleep.
She broke away from Price, an irritated scowl on her face as Cuyler tried to grab at the masked man's skull piece. Linnea was trying to talk to a dark-haired woman who glared at her coldly. Both seemed in significant discomfort, and the masked man was visibly annoyed that Solvi thought he might punch Cuyler, which she wouldn't be opposed to.
Before anyone could do anything else, the blonde woman stepped between Cuyler and the masked man, slapping Cuyler's hand away from Ghost's face and pressuring him to move away from the man's personal space.
"Hva er galt med deg?! Hold hendene dine for deg!" - ( What are you doing?! Keep your hands to yourself!) The woman scolded the young man before her, who only gave her a scornful look. His once mocking expression turned into a nasty sneer now that his green eyes were focused on her. She could see the hatred for her in them, but was unsure why she was receiving such resentment from him. It was only a recent thing she had noticed, these looks he would send her way, and she'd tried to get answers but didn't have much luck. Even Linnea wouldn't help, and she had been more reserved lately.
She didn't back down, though. The two glared silently at each other, making the surrounding people watch them warily. It was Linnea who pulled the two out of their death stares.
"Kom igjen, folkens... stopp." - (Come on, guys... stop) she said, chuckling nervously, the white blonde and redhead turned to face her, their hardened expressions never faltering as they gazed darkly upon their friend and sister. Cuyler then faced Solvi, who, in turn, looked back at him.
"Faen av!" - (Fuck off) The ginger spat furiously, his breathing heavy. His outburst caused Solvi to pause in astonishment. He had never spoken to her like that. Her expression was a mixture of confusion and disbelief as she tried to calm the anger inside her. Her blue eyes stared him down as he stormed out of the building. Solvi caught a glimpse of him taking his inhaler out of his pocket. His twin sister was quick to follow after him, the ginger briefly made eye contact with Solvi as she passed with an unreadable expression. The blonde woman tilted her head ever so slightly and scoffed incredulously, her lip curling as her eyes lingered on the entrance.
"What was that!?" Ivan questioned, who was just as flabbergasted as she was. The woman only grumbled in return, waving her hand in dismissal before noticing what was on the TV. "Ivan, turn that shit off, it's ruining the mood," she complained as she took the empty seat beside Laswell. The bartender rolled his eyes but did as she said. Getting comfy in her seat, she gently massaged the temples of her head in hopes of calming the raging headache.
"Got a migraine?" Laswell asked, gaining a squinty-eyed look from the young woman. Solvi only nodded before she heard something being moved in front of her. She cracked an eye open to see a pack of painkillers, and she subconsciously smiled.
"Thank you...,"
"Laswell. Kate Laswell," That was a name Solvi had heard before.
"Ah, you're the famous 'Laswell' that Price mentioned on the phone. It's nice to meet you," Solvi said, offering the American handshake, which was taken gratefully. Solvi then popped out two pills as Ivan placed a glass of water next to her. She quickly took the pills before looking at Price.
"I take it this is Task Force 141, then?" the platinum blonde asked, nodding to everyone else, catching a few eyes, and smiling.
"It is. Let me introduce you to them. Here we have Gaz, Soap, Ghost, Monty and Bromley," he pointed to each one, and Solvi got herself familiar with their nicknames. She could see herself becoming good friends with a few, but one person gave off a very uninterested aura. The man with the skull mask. He'd be a difficult one to befriend, that's if he wants to be friends. He wasn't the type to have them. Her eyes lingered on him before turning her attention back to the Captain.
"And what mission do you have for us?" the young woman asked as she picked up the glass with her left hand. She sipped the cool liquid as Price pushed a large brown envelope toward her. She dragged it closer and spun it portrait before picking it up.
"Just so you know, our plans may have changed. Something else has come up. Something a lot more important," Solvi watched the paper dubiously as it was pushed over to her before her eyes flickered back to the envelope. She took out the contents and took a moment to skim through the documents about a man called Shepherd—a U.S. General who had gone into hiding after being revealed as a traitor. Solvi subconsciously turned her lip up in a sneer as she scanned the documents, taking in all the crimes he had committed.
"Asshole," she murmured to herself as she stared distastefully at the words before her. She began putting the documents back in the envelope as Price started talking again.
"Our original plan was to go for him, but we believe we have bigger problems for now. This guy, right here," Price said, tapping at the paper. Solvi briefly met his eyes, taking note of their uneasiness, before slowly moving her hand over to the photograph and turning it over. She had brought the glass of water to her lips again, only to pause halfway when her icy blue eyes lay on the man's face in the picture. That face was hauntingly familiar to her, and it wasn't a familiarity that filled her with warmth; it shouldn't anyway, considering this was a wanted man. But she had seen him before. She was sure of it.
Suddenly, a memory flashed through her mind, and he was there. It made her nauseous.
It was the day she found her parents.
She was driving to their house, and she had taken a turn. A black van was just leaving the road. She remembered making brief eye contact with the passenger, who had looked directly at her, too. She remembered how uncomfortable she felt under his gaze, like he was the predator and she was the prey.
If all that was enough shock initially, the next bombshell hit her like a truck, and she almost felt her heart give out. Her face went sickly pale, and the glass slipped from her hand, spilling its contents onto the counter before bouncing onto the floor and smashing into tiny pieces. The loud noise gained the team's and Ivan's attention.
"Solvi?" Price questioned, his face quickly changing from confusion to concern once he saw the young woman's panic-stricken expression. He stood up, making his way over, and Ivan did the same. "What is it? What's wrong?" However, he received no response, her mind still trying to comprehend what she thought she might have uncovered.
"Solvi, you need to talk to us. What's wrong?" Price pressed further, entirely baffled by her sudden, bizarre behaviour. There was another brief moment of silence and a motionless Solvi. That was until Kate reached a hand forward and gently brought the photograph down. She covered the man's face, the motion breaking the blonde-haired Norwegian from her trance. Price was about to question her again, but she beat him.
"I saw him," she stated robotically. She lifted a finger to point at the paper before gulping down saliva. A concoction of emotions began to rile up within her.
Anger, sadness, grief.
There was that hollow feeling of dread eating at her heart.
If only she had gotten there earlier.
She heard Price mutter a soft, 'what', as he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "He was there... The day I found them dead," her voice cracked and she sucked in a breath as she tried to calm her emotions but it wasn't working. "It was him!"
"Makarov's here? In Norway?" Simon finally spoke up, seemingly surprised by her words. Solvi met his eyes. Makarov. She nodded her head slowly before turning her gaze back to Price. With a grave expression on her face, the older man patiently waited for her to speak.
"It's starting to make sense now...," she muttered absentmindedly before addressing the Captain.
"I think I know what he's up to,"
Word Count: 3962