You were standing next to Makarov and Nolan when you reached up and scratched your neck. Your heart sank as your fingers brushed against your necklace.
Fuck.
You ripped your necklace off and crushed it under your heel. The boys looked at you confused. "There was a camera in my necklace. Price has been watching me the whole time. Knowing him, I'm sure the 141 is on their way already-" Makarov grabbed you by the shoulders; he was clearly angry.
You looked up at him wide-eyed. "You're talking about Captain John Price and his task force? You are a part of Task Force 141?"
"I've been a part of his team for about 4 years now. It's the reason I was at the party tonight under a different name. We were sent undercover to see if you were attending the party. You looked up to him and he looked lost in thought, conflicted.
"Этот больной ублюдок" (That sick bastard). Nolan's words dripped with venom. You furrowed your brows in confusion; they were keeping something from you. Makarov redirected your attention to him.
"A gas leak didn't cause your house to blow up. There were bombs planted underneath the floorboards of your house." You looked at him in disbelief but didn't say anything, letting him continue.
"A covert operation led by the U.S. special forces knew that we were all going to be at your house for your 18th birthday. Your parents, Nolan's parents, and my father were in the house when they detonated the bombs. Nolan and I had just walked out the door when the house exploded. The explosion had thrown us across the lawn. I had tried to run back, but Nolan pointed out the men that came out. They were American; at least the man who spoke was. We thought you were still inside. We thought you had died along with our parents." Your eyes grew wide as he finished.
"We were targeted because of our fathers." Makarov sighed and looked away. "Yes, but I've been looking for answers to why they targeted all of us...It just doesn't make sense." You furrow your brows and ask him what he meant.
"Our fathers had arrived at the house an hour before all of us to set up the decorations; the bombs had already been planted, so why not detonate it then? Why wait until we were all home?" Your heart sank as you thought about it. Why would they wait? Who wanted all of you guys dead? Was it just a loose-ends thing?
"Price was involved with the explosion." You were taken aback by the sudden statement.
"What? No, that can't be true. Your wrong. Price couldn't have been involved." He lets out a small sigh. "After that night, I swore to myself that I would find the people that were involved in the attack. It took a while, but I finally got a list of the people who were involved in what happened that night. John Price was one of them." You felt a lump in your throat.
"Price was the one who comforted me, who supported me through everything. He was the one who made me believe I had a family again. He was like a father to me Vlad." Makarov saw the way your eyes shifted, you didn't seem like you anymore. The girl who spent her whole life with 141 resurfaced. You felt torn inside, at a crossroads between the two lives you lived. Deep down, your heart ached. You needed to know why Price kept this from you.
"How could he? How could he pretend to care about me while being responsible for something like that? I trusted him. I looked up to him, followed his lead without question for years, and now I find out that he played a part in killing my family and separating us." He took a step closer to you and slowly wrapped his arms around you.
Being enveloped with you felt like the closest to heaven he would ever be. He held you as tightly as he could as if somehow he could make up for all the lost time with a single embrace. He could feel the warmth of your body, the rise and fall of your labored breathing, the beat of your heart against his chest, the curve of your body fitting into his, and the softness of your hair as he ran his fingers through it. "I have to go back; I need to know why. I need to know if he has always known who I am. I need answers."
He holds you a little tighter, "No."
You pull away from him, "Vlad I need to know. I spent four years of my life with him. I need answers. Maybe I can find out why they waited."
"Life gave us a second chance, and I can't lose you again, Y/n. If I'm speaking truthfully, I don't want you to leave, but if this is what you want, then I won't stop you. Just please come back to me." You reach up and cup his face, you can tell how much you leaving is troubling him. In all honesty, you didn't want to leave either. You finally found your family again.
"Is there a way I can contact you once I finish?" He pulled away from you and walked to his desk. He opened a drawer and reached into it, pulling out a small phone and tossing it to you.
"It's a secure line. Call me when you are ready or if anything happens. I'll be waiting."
"Are you guys going to leave? It's not safe here anymore." He tucked back a loose strand of hair that was in your face.
"Yes, Nolan and I will figure things out. I'll let you know where we are when you call. You embraced him one last time, reaching up to plant a kiss on his lips. When you pulled away, he grabbed your arm and brought you against his chest again. "I love you." You smile against his shoulder and whisper it back to him.
You turn out of his embrace, walking towards the elevator. You stop in your tracks when you glance down at your dress. "Do you have any extra clothes?" Nolan smiled as he showed you where the bathroom was. You changed into all-black tactical gear before Makarov walked you to the elevator, handing you a silenced pistol and a throwing knife before pushing the button that would take you to the lobby.
"Be safe my love." Your heart warmed, and you smiled.
"I will."
The elevator doors closed and began to descend. You wondered how you were going to get back to the hotel; if Price had been watching through the camera, then the 141 was likely looking for you. As the doors parted, revealing the lobby below, a gruesome tableau unfolded before your eyes. Lifeless bodies sprawled across the floor, and the acrid scent of blood hung thick in the air. Wincing at the metallic tang, you cautiously stepped onto the scene. Among the fallen, you noticed a body with a throwing knife embedded in the neck—a signature of Ghost.
The echo of closing elevator doors reverberated through the lobby as you observed them ascending to the fifth floor. An immediate realization struck — that must be where the team was. They were likely heading down to the lobby, needing a keycard to access the sixth floor. Anticipating their move, you swiftly maneuvered to a nearby closet, carefully shutting the door behind you. From the concealed space, you strained to hear their voices. Soap's muffled tone reached your ears, expressing urgency.
"We need to find that bloody keycard; she could be up there."
Ghost nodded in agreement. Price's voice echoed through comms, updating them on the situation and revealing that Makarov had destroyed the camera. They were too late, and you had been moved elsewhere. Price ordered them back to the hotel, leaving Soap to curse in frustration.
"I hope she's okay. I can't imagine what that bastard is doing to her."
Yuri tried to reassure Soap, "Y/n is a fighter; she can hold her own. We just have to be patient. Let's rendezvous with Alex."
Their footsteps faded into the distance, leaving you in a moment of solitude. Confusion clouds your mind. Why hadn't Price shown them the footage from your necklace? More questions lingered, but you pushed them aside as you emerged from the closet, determined to navigate through the enigma that surrounded you.
You made your way to the hotel, keeping an eye from across the street as Price, Ghost, Soap, Alex, and Yuri left the premises. The absence of Gaz didn't go unnoticed, and a sense of suspicion lingered. Dressed inconspicuously in civilian clothing, they all piled into a car and drove away, leaving you wondering about the whereabouts of Gaz.
An hour passed, and you spotted Price returning alone, exiting an Uber. Questions buzzed in your mind. Where was the rest of the team? You trailed behind him as he walked into the lobby. Following suit, you entered the hotel with your keycard in hand. Sliding it against the door, you waited until you heard the familiar click of the lock disengaging.
As you cautiously pushed the door open, you moved quietly through the suite. You made your way to the makeshift office he made for himself when you guys first arrived. You slowly pushed the door open and he looked up from where he was sitting behind a desk. The small lamp on the table illuminated his face. You had your pistol pointed at him, tension thick in the air. Price eyed your clothing and scoffed.
"You've been cozy with the enemy," he remarked, his tone accusing. You tightened your jaw, ready for confrontation.
"How long have you known?"
"You need to be more specific than that," he calmly stated. You scoffed, frustration etching your voice, "How long have you known who I truly was? How long have you known that I was Y/n Belov!" He drew a deep breath.
"I've always known. Ever since I saw your name on the list of potential recruits, I knew it was you," he admitted. Your breathing grew heavier, and tears welled up as the weight of his revelation settled. From the very beginning, he knew about your true identity. He knew that you had survived that explosion. He knew that he played a part in the tragic death of your family. Every moment of comfort, every tear shed over memory loss – he had always known he was responsible for it all.
"I shouldn't have put you on this mission. I knew he would bring your memories back. My lust to kill him overshadowed what I knew would happen." As the words left his mouth, something snapped inside you. "You were going to use me against him? To flush him out so you could kill him?" you laughed hysterically. "You are one sick son of a bitch to kill my family and try to manipulate me into killing my boyfriend."
"The plan wasn't for you to kill him. Before the mission, I told the team the truth behind who you were. They knew everything, your real identity and who Makarov was to you. The actual plan was for you to draw Makarov out and Gaz would take the shot and kill him while he was off guard. I didn't account for Nolan being the one to approach you first and the plan went south." Your ears started ringing but you let him finish. "The team was hesitant at first, they didn't want to betray your trust but they knew Makarov was worth it. None of us wanted a man like him to find his way back into your life. We did it to protect you." His justification sounded feeble as you started laughing, the sound bordering on manic.
"I should just kill you right now." You glared at him and he smirked at you. "I've had my gun on you since you walked in." You glanced at the dark space under his desk. "So why haven't you shot me?"
"Believe it or not, I care about you y/n."
"Bullshit."
"I never wanted any of this to happen. You have to understand that sometimes, in this line of work, we have to make tough choices."
"Tough choices? Is that what you're calling it? You blew up a house with five innocent people."
"There were three terrorists in that house that caused the deaths of thousands upon thousands of people. It was a difficult decision, but it was necessary."
"Necessary?! Taking innocent lives was necessary? You destroyed my life, you took my parents, ripped my memories away, and you dare to stay by my side all these years pretending like you didn't? You say there were three terrorists in that house but there were still three innocent kids and their mothers." He let out a deep sigh, struggling to find the right words.
"I've carried that burden with me every single day. I know there were innocent people in that house. I know I can't undo the past, but I've tried to protect you since then, to make amends in any way I could."
"Protect me?! You've been protecting me from the reality of what you did. How could you? I looked up to you and trusted you with my heart. I came to you countless times, grieving over a family I couldn't remember, and you consoled me all those times, knowing you had killed them! I can't even look at you without feeling sick." Price lost his cool and he began yelling.
"You don't know the pressure I was under, the choices I had to make that day. " You were staring at him with wide eyes.
"Oh, so you're the victim now? You get to play the tragic hero who sacrificed innocent lives for the greater good?"
"You're oversimplifying things! You can't possibly understand the weight of command and the sacrifices that are demanded for the greater good."
"Sacrifices? My entire family's lives were not yours to sacrifice! If it had just been my father I would have understood but you attempted to kill an entire family, the majority being innocents. You had a choice, You have always told me I had a choice, that I could draw the line where I needed to."
"And what would you have me do? Let emotions cloud my judgment? We were on the brink of war Y/n, I did what I thought was necessary to ensure that we didn't have World War Three, and I'm doing that now. I never wanted it to happen this way, but sometimes sacrifices have to be made for the bigger picture." Frustration was evident in his voice.
"You don't get to decide whose lives are worth sacrificing! You don't get to play god and choose who lives and who dies!" He finally snapped.
"If I had your mother might still be alive!"
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" He hesitated, taking a deep breath.
"I was tailing you and your mother that day. From the second you left your house, I was given a direct order to follow you. I had only left when our targets finally got to your house. It had only been the three of them. The bombs had already been planted...I had begged him to detonate it while you guys were still out. I had asked countless times and tried to reason with him, but he didn't care. He wanted all of you guys there; he wanted everyone dead...I stopped fighting him and went with the plan." He looked defeated, as if guilt had consumed him whole.
"Who?" He remained silent.
"Price. Who was in charge of that mission?" He glanced at you and then averted his gaze.
"...General Sheppard." Your eyes went wide in shock, and you took a step towards him.
"General Sheppard? But why? Why would he have been so hell-bent on making sure we were all there?" Price shook his head.
"I don't know. I wish I did, but I don't. All I know is that he was the one who gave the orders. He was determined to kill all of you at once" You were utterly confused you hadn't had the faintest clue on why General Sheppard would want your entire family dead. He had his main targets isolated so why wait?
"I'm not telling you this because I think you'll forgive me but I owe you the truth, even if it doesn't make up for my actions. I genuinely care about you, Y/n, and I never intended to hurt you. I wanted to keep you away from Makarov, I just wanted to keep you safe... Sheppard doesn't know you're alive... my goal was to keep it that way." His eyes were full of guilt as he gazed into yours. You averted your gaze, taking a deep breath.
"Now that I have my memories back, nothing will keep me apart from him. You can find someone else to manipulate into killing him." He laughed. "You'll realize soon enough that he isn't the man you once remembered him to be. People change y/n and that man is the embodiment of hell." You couldn't help but laugh at the irony. "You made him that way." Price could only smirk at your response; he knew you were right, no matter how much he wanted to deny it.
"You can't save him. We won't stop until he's dead so I suggest you think about your decision to join him." It was your turn to smirk at him. "You'll kill me if I get in your way?" Price gave you the look, and you knew his answer. "So much for caring about me."
You left his office and stopped after a few feet when an image of your mom flashed in your mind. Tears brimmed your eyes as you remembered your last day with her. The snowball fight you had and the afternoon you spent together played in your mind. Your mother deserved better; she deserved to get her happy ending. Your breathing became labored as you remembered Price's words, and the weight of the past bore down on you.
'I told the team the truth behind who you were.'
'They knew everything, your real identity and who Makarov was to you.'
'Sometimes sacrifices have to be made for the bigger picture.'
'I stopped fighting him and went with the plan.'
'We won't stop until he's dead'.
The defeated feeling of being betrayed was soon replaced with hatred and rage. You turned around and slammed the door open to Price's office. The air was thick with tension as you emptied the magazine of your silenced pistol into his chest. Your hands trembled with anger, and your eyes burned with the intensity of your fury. Walking over to his laptop, you swiftly copied all the information he had on a USB before methodically deleting everything he had on Makarov. "You won't take anyone else away from me."
You walked into the lobby and you saw the black jeep the boys took to the hospital pass on the street in front of the hotel. As you slip into the cool night air, you can't help but glance back at the hotel. With each step you take away from it, you feel a burning need for justice. You decide to head to the back of the hotel to call Makarov, you want to avoid being seen by the boys and having to explain why you're leaving.
Soap almost misses you; he nearly doesn't catch sight of you out of the corner of his eye as you turn the corner to the back of the building. His curiosity gets the better of him when he sees you after you haven't been on comms for hours. He decides to follow you, quickly telling Ghost, Alex, and Yuri that he'll be up in a minute. You pull out the small phone Makarov gave you and call him.
"Makarov it's me."
"Are you okay? Where are you now?" You could hear the concern in his voice.
"I'm at a hotel, it's about five minutes from the venue. Where are you?"
"Don't worry about getting here, I'll send someone to get you. Meet them at Saint Basil's Cathedral, you can reach it by following the riverbank east from the old bridge. They'll be there in five"
"Sounds good, I'll see you in a bit." With that, the call ended. You took a deep breath but your heart sank when you heard the sound of a familiar Scottish accent. You quickly turned to find Soap, his gun pointed at you.