A/N: I don't really have much to say, except for a big thank-you to everyone who is still following my stories. I still grin when I read old reviews, still laugh at how poor the earlier stuff is, and still creep the site a few hundred times a day. Seriously, though. Thank you to everyone, I love you all, and enjoy the next chapter!

Also, I'm thinking about writing a Dark Souls fanfic. Just thought everyone should know that.

Fire: Chapter Seventeen

Divided

"I had to do it, Soap. I just had to." said Captain Price. Pretty much every member of the 141 had shown up to hear Price explain his actions. The tiny briefing room, only made to seat 10, was bursting at the seams with the 30-plus pissed off, shocked soldiers who lined the room.

"I'm not sending that missile to crash into the coast. I've programmed it to explode above the States, creating a makeshift EMP. It'll give the Americans the time they need to regroup and push Russia out of their country!" explained Price. Some of the mens' faces softened, but Soap's stayed in its confused, angry glare.

"Why didn't you say anything, Price?" he asked, scowling. "You could have told us. Hell, you may have been able to convince us to help you with this crazy plan. You do know that the American vehicles and equipment will be affected too, right?"

Price nodded, a grim look on his face.

"I did what I had to do, and believe me, Soap, I'm not thrilled about it either."

Soap sighed, nodded, and the two men reached forward to shake hands.

"Never do anything like that again, old man." ordered Soap, grinning. "I think Ghost almost shit his pants when the missile launched!" A well-aimed fist from Ghost lightly hit Soap's shoulder; barely heard over the laughter in the room.

"Okay, now that that's settled, what do we do?" asked Enya, giggling.

"We have to track down Makarov." said Ghost. "He's our next target. Get him, and this shite'll end."

"Shepherd's on his way over here. He's got some intel that we'll be following up on. I'm expecting him within a few hours, so get some rest before he shows up." ordered Mactavish. The men filed out of the room in a crowd, talking and laughing with each other. Enya began her slow, crutch-assisted hobble to the infirmary. She knew there was a mission coming up, and wanted the medical clearance to go on it.

Doc looked up from his paperwork as she walked in.

"Back again, Nina? Need more medication?" he asked.

"Nope. I want to get back to work." she said, smiling slightly.

"Hmm, of course, of course. Climb up onto a bed and I'll check the wound." he replied. Enya clambered onto a bed, her fingers itching at the white bandage beneath her combat pants. Blushing lightly, she removed her pants and allowed Doc to pull the bandage from her leg. The faded, stitched- together skin was healing fast, and Enya had to fight back a cheer when she was cleared for full active duty.

"Just be damn careful! Don't stress it, don't do too much running, and keep it clean!" Doc had warned her as she threw down her crutches and left the infirmary with only a slight limp.

Within a few hours, Shepherd's helicopter landed, bringing the General and a couple of Rangers into the briefing room with Soap, Price, Ghost, and a few other high-ranked men. Enya sat in her bunk, nervously fiddling with the pages of her journal. The worn notebook was almost half-full of reports, questions, observations, doodles, and aimless scribbles. It felt odd, holding an object that contained information about her time with the 141. Holy shit, things have changed. The fucking world's going to be at war. I've killed, I've been shot, I've done so much, and it's hasn't even been a month. Enya sighed, looking around the room. The small barrack had six sets of bunkbeds lined up around the room. She'd been offered a tiny barrack to herself, but had refused. Now she sat in the room with a few other soldiers, who were crowded around a deck of cards on the floor.

The barrack door swung open, and Archer stepped into the room.

"Nina, Soap and Price want to see you. They're in the briefing room." he said, hovering by the doorframe. "Oh, and fetch Roach if you see him anywhere. 'Tavish is looking for him. I can't find the damn bug anywhere!" She laughed, standing and shoving the notebook into a pocket on her combat pants.

"Thanks Archer!" she replied, smiling slightly.

On her way to the briefing room, Enya encountered something she hadn't seen in a little while: an unfamiliar face. The confused-looking American man was wandering around, staring at the matching buildings with a frown on his face. Catching sight of her staring, he waved and called her over.

"Hey, could you tell me where the briefing room is?" he asked. "I've been wandering for half an hour, I probably missed my meeting!"

"I'm on my way there." she replied, grinning. "Follow me."

xXx

"My name's Jamie, by the way. Airman First Class Jamie Stinson. But you can call me Blue."

"Blue?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, Blue." he said, smirking. "And you are?"

"Private Enya Clarke. They call me Nina around here, though." she replied.

"Nina? You don't look Spanish." he said, confused.

"It's a long story." she explained. "Maybe I'll tell you about it sometime."

The two soldiers arrived at the briefing room, where an impatient-looking Captain Price was leaned against the wall, and an irritated-looking Captain Mactavish towered over a humble-looking Roach.

"Your little accident has put two men into the infirmary! What were you even doing in the kitchen, bug?" thundered Soap, crossing his arms in anger.

"I...was hungry." admitted Roach. "I was gonna get Nina and I some food, and I...tripped."

"Hey, don't drag me into this!" called Enya, sighing as she limped over to a seat in the briefing room, dragging an amused Jamie Stinson with her.

"Yeah, you tripped. Tripped and knocked a pot of boiling water on to two of our guys! Domino and Rooster are being treated for second degree burns, you clumsy little shite!" ranted Mactavish, glaring daggers at Roach. "If I didn't think you'd be really busy soon, you'd be running laps until your bloody legs fell off! Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir." muttered Roach, lowering his head and taking a seat across the table from Enya.

"Is that why Archer couldn't find you earlier?" asked Enya, smirking slightly at the look of terror that crossed his face.

"You hid from Archer!?" said Enya, laughing. "Shit, Roach. Keep it up and you'll be dragging the FNG around instead of me!" All eyes immediately fell on Blue, who visibly paled.

"Well, go on then! Say hi!" she urged him, patting his shoulder. "Just get it over with."

"What's got you in such a good mood, then?" asked Soap.

"I'm cleared for duty, sir!" she chirped back, motioning to her healing leg.

"Right, well then, moving on." said Price, scowling slightly. "Who in the hell's this Yank?"

"Airman First Class Jamie Stinson, sir!" called Blue, straightening into attention.

"You were supposed to be here with Shepherd, Stinson! What the hell happened?" demanded Price.

"I, um, got lost?" he supplied, blushing.

The sudden, piercing ring of one of the briefing room's many telephones cut through the room.

"Nina, Roach! Show Stinson around while I take care of this?" said Mactavish.

"Yes, sir!" replied Roach, grabbing Enya's arm and rushing out of the room as quickly as his legs could carry him.

xXx

"Jesus, Roach! Take it easy, I literally just got cleared!" laughed Enya. "Oh, by the way; Roach, meet Blue."

"Blue?" asked Roach "an FNG? Now?"

"Yeah, apparently so." said Stinson, sighing.

"They just pulled you out of nowhere too, huh?" asked Enya, sympathetically.

"Yeah, pretty much. Anyways, what was that about a tour?"