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"Price - be advised, Makarov is in the tunnel - He's heading your way!" Ghost's voice, more urgent than usual, comes through the radio. Captain John Price exhales, tension rising in his body as he stares through the snake cam at the bomb, trying to make sense of it. "Soap, you hear that?!"
Soap, crouched on the other side of the massive explosive, grunts. "Affirm - I'm not leavin' this bomb, Captain..." A second later a shot rings out and he shouts in pain. "Ugh! I'm hit!" Soap manages through gritted teeth as Price whirls around towards the Konni soldiers advancing on their position. "SOAP! Get your gun up!" Price says urgently. Soap shakes his head, stubbornness set in his jaw. "It'll blow if I let go, Captain! Cover me!" Price growls under his breath and takes aim, shouting into his radio in the same movement. "Fuuuck - Bravo, we need suppressive fire here, NOW!" He barks, ducking behind a crate.
Gaz's voice comes back through the comms. "We're pinned down, Cap! Konni's blocking the tunnels!" "Push through them!" Price snaps back over the sound of gunfire. "Keep 'em off me, Captain!" Soap urges as he works on defusing the bomb. Once the hostiles are all dead or dying, Price strides back to the bomb, resuming his position on the other side. "We're clear - Police are K.I.A." Soap grunts in acknowledgment, his eyes focused on the panel in front of him. "Need you back on that snake cam, Captain." Ghost's voice cuts in through the radio. "0-7 to Six - we're punching through now!"
Price forces himself to calm down, steadying his hands. "What's next, Soap?"
Soap replies, his voice surprisingly steady considering his injury and the situation. "Locate the blasting cap. Bottom lefthand corner..." Price locates the cap after a moment. "Copy. Blasting cap. Attached to the C4..." Soap nods, his hands busy at his side of the controls. "Aye. There's a serial number on it. Gimme the third number." Price scans the serial before he replies shortly. "Number nine." Soap inputs the number, exhaling a brief sigh of relief.
"Copy - good work. This bomb has two fuses. We need to cut both at the same time. Red wire."
Price nods, his voice gruff. "Red wire. Got it." But before either one of them can cut, footsteps rapidly approach and a shot rings out, sending Soap sprawling, blood blooming from the bullet hole in his chest. "SOAP!!" Makarov - his pistol already trained on Price, snarls at the soldiers behind him. "Stay back - they're mine!" The Russian slams his foot down on Price's arm, keeping him pinned as he readies for the killing blow. "Take this to hell with you, Captain...Never bury your enemies alive..." Makarov's finger tightens on the trigger when Soap rises with the last of his desperate strength, injured but still alive, shouting in fury as he buries a knife in Makarov's shoulder. Makarov grunts in pain and raises the pistol, the barrel point-blank to Soap's skull and his finger pulling the trigger just as Gaz and Ghost appear on the scene, firing at Makarov and his men.
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