A/N: Call of duty belongs to activision.
Soaps death hurt;still not over it. Prices reaction was just as hard to watch. This is for Soap and Price.
Hereford
Credenhill,UK
It was a cold, rainy, windy day. The streets were empty; everyone was inside to get away from the storm. A lone man started to walk towards the clock tower.
Wearing a boonie hat, the man approached the steps of the clock tower. Before climbing the steps, he took off his hat in respect. He climbed up the steps and came face to face with hundreds of thousands of SAS soldiers names inscribed in the old clock tower.
He looked down until he found the one he was looking for. His fingers traced over the fallen soldiers name. It read out "Captain John "Soap" MacTavish".
"Soap" Captain Price whispered. He took out the dog tags out of his pocket. He also took a picture out and placed it at the bottom of the tower. It was the picture of him, soap, ghost and sandman before operation kingfish. Before everything went to hell.
Price sighed as rose back up, onto his feet.
"MacMillan told me they inscribed your name here the day I told him you passed away; I had to see it for myself. To make sure they did"
He sighed again as he played with the dog tags in his hand.
"He's dead Soap, the bastards finally dead"
He smirked a little "You would have loved the way I hung that bastard"
Then his face got serious.
"I'm sorry it took me a while to get here soap. I had to make sure everyone knew you weren't a traitor. I had to make sure they knew what Shepard had done."He paused.
"I had to make sure your name was cleared, that they knew you died trying to bring the most notorious terrorist known to mankind down, not on the run for killing an American army general"
He sighed as he ran his hands through his hair.
"I never told you this, but over the years you've become like a son to me. What we went through together, no one has" Price smiled "Remember when I asked what the hell kind of name was Soap, and you never answered me. Well I found out why a few weeks ago. You got it for being quick, efficient and from what I hear, a slippery bastard." He chuckled as he remembered the times that Soap had gotten into intense situations but had managed to come out cleanly, hence the name Soap. Price couldn't believe he didn't realise it before.
He stood there in a moment of silence, going over what he said to Soap when he first meet him.
"What the hell kind of name is "Soap", eh? How'd a muppet like you pass selection?"
"I know there will never be another soldier like you... Rest in peace son" He barely got out, as a tear fell down his face.
He looked down the clock tower and found 2 more names.
"Simon Riley, and Gary Sanderson" he sighed" I'm sorry my warning was too late for you boys" he frowned
"To all the task force 141 boys, you were picked as the world's greatest; you didn't deserve to be slaughtered the way you were. I'm sorry I couldn't do anything more for all of you. May all of you rest in peace. You're all in a better place"
He felt a hand grasp his shoulder. He turned around and saw Macmillan giving a sympathetic, respectful nod.
"Thanks Mac" he let out
Macmillan just nodded his head as just quietly stood behind Price.
Price looked up at the plaque on the clock tower
"We are the Pilgrims, master; we shall go
Always a little further; it may be
Beyond that last blue mountain barred with snow
Across that angry or that glimmering sea...""
He saluted the fallen. He nodded at Macmillan, and descended down the steps. He slipped on his boonie hat; and grabbed a cigar from his jacket pocket. He lighted it up and walked towards the barracks.