Part Seventy-Four: The Angel of Death

                                    

                                          
"Soap!" My throat aches from my screeching as I watch my beloved friend smack the earth—full force—with his body.
In a state of utter panic, I turn on my heel to make my way to the stairs but I'm halted when Price quickly and firmly grasps my arm.
"Not yet!" the Captain yells. "We need to keep shooting!"
No way in hell he's being serious.
"Fuck you," I seethe and continue trying to break from his clasp. "Let go!"
"No," he snarls, deathly serious. "If you run down there without finishing off Makarov's men you'll die too."
You'll die too.
Soap's not dead. He can't be. Price doesn't know that for sure. 
"But if we leave him down there then they'll kill him! Or he'll bleed out!" My voice breaks as I choke on my tears. 
"Breanna." Price fastens his grip on my shoulder now. "This is the only way to help him," he sighs, his eyes somber. "We can't help him if we're dead."
Although true, I can't accept that. I can't let my friend—someone so fucking dear to me—die alone because I was too chicken shit to save him. 
"Fine," I admit defeat, something Price will soon discover is a lie. 
"Ein little help here!" König yells at us as he holds down our forces without us.
"Shit," Captain Price curses and turns back to the matter at hand.
This is my chance. And I'm going to take it. 
Without a second thought, I sprint to the stairs and descend them with haste.
"Fuck! No!" Price notices my insubordination. "Breanna!" His screams begin to fade as I reach the bottom of the staircase.
Think.
You can't go out there without a plan, Breanna. What would Ghost do? Probably follow Price's orders. 
Pfft. I'm not doing that. 
Think.
I could run out quickly and drag him back inside the building, but there are so many of those Russian scum out there. How do I save Soap without getting myself, and him, killed in the process?
And then it hits me.
I take a deep breath, drop my TAQ-56 (an assault rifle), and check my pockets to make sure I have my throwing knives.
Here goes nothing.
I slowly exit the building with my hands up toward the sky.
"I surrender!" I yell out to the group of ultranationalists who stand before me. "I surrender."
Two of the men stop shooting up at the building where König and Price are but there are still a handful of men shooting at them. 
As the two soldiers approach with their guns pointed at me, I also inch closer, trying to get close enough to Soap's nearly lifeless body. 
As I get closer to where Soap lies I can tell he's still alive—barely—by the way his chest continues to rise and fall.
I knew he wasn't dead.
The Russian soldiers are so close now I can hear their snickering above the loud sound of bullets exiting from their muzzles. 
One of the soldiers begins to speak in Russian, "Stupid girl."
I'll count it as a blessing that I can't understand whatever that man said. 
"Don't move. Unless you vant to die." The soldier spits at me with a malicious smirk.