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As a soldier, Soap understood - on a technical level, at least - that sometimes you had to work with people you didn’t get along with.
But there was *that* and then there was *you*.
Bad enough they had to work with Shadow Company after that yank bastard’s betrayal - but they seriously expected him to work side by side with one of Graves’ dogs after what happened in Las Almas? *I should be putting a bullet in this slimy fuck, not watchin’ their six.*
Soap scowls as he sits opposite of you in the helo, the whirring roar of the rotors and the odd shuffling of gear doing little to cut through the thick tension. They’re headed towards a compound based on Graves’ (*rat bastard*) intel, where *allegedly* one of Makarov’s lieutenants was holed up. “Hope yer owner’s info isn’t as worthless as his promises, Shadow.” He mutters darkly, leaning forward to glare daggers at you.
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