Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Call of Duty games, nor the characters found within them. They belong to their respective creators. There is no profit made from this work of fiction, nor will there be in the future. This is purely for the enjoyment of the readers.

Author's Note: I hated how these two were killed. This possibility had been dancing around in my head for a while, and it took me a while to figure out how to make it seem logical. If there is anything that's not, please let me know. As always, constructive critism is welcomed, preferred even. A writer cannot get better without input from their fans.

"Ghost, come in! This is Price! We're under attack by Shepherd's men in the boneyard! Soap, hold the left flank! Do not trust Shepherd! I say again, do not trust Shepherd! Soap, get down!" The rushed words from one of their captains was shouted into the lieutenant's ear.

At that moment, Shepherd fired a bullet from his .44 Magnum, the bullet tearing savagely through Roach's abdomen. "No!" The word tore from his throat before he could stop it. He pulled his weapon up, sidestepping in the process. Without a sideways glance to the lieutenant, another bullet left the revolver, sinking itself deep into Ghost's side. He fell. The Task Force member looked over to Roach, his heart lifting slightly at the realization he was alive. Behind his skull balaclava and a pair of dark red sunglasses, his eyes were hidden from Shepherd and his men. He was, as far as they were concerned, dead.

Ghost forced his body to go limp, and resisted the urge to flinch and stiffen as he felt two pairs of hands on him, one at the shoulders, the other his feet, lifting him. He allowed his head to lull to the side, watching as Roach was thrown into a pit moments before his own body joined his subordinate's. Ghost allowed his body to roll, his head landing in a position where he could clearly see Roach. The black haired man was staring back, brown eyes focused on Ghost's limp body. Ghost then felt the liquid stream against his body, watching as it was poured over Roach as well.

The smell wafted through his balaclava, filling his nose. Gasoline. Bloody hell, they're burning us alive!

The pain engulfted him quickly, and then his body did flinch, every muscle tightening as the pain flared through his already sore body. Ghost bit down on his tongue to keep from crying out in pain. He heard laughter, the sound fading away as the group left. The sounds of helicopter blades grew silent too as they sped away, carrying along with them traiters. Ghost slowly pushed himself to his knees, the flames engulfing both men, burning their clothing, licking at their skin. He grabbed Roach's vest, sluggishly pulling the smaller man from the flaming tomb. Once clear of the fire, he threw his weight onto Roach, ignoring the white hot pain biting into his own flesh from the flames tearing ruthlessly into his clothing, burning them away slowly. Using his own body weight, he forced the flames on Roach to smoulder out under him. He was prepared for death. He had accepted it a long time ago. Roach however, never did. He had his whole life ahead of him. Ghost was ready to go, but he would save his partner.

A hand grabbed onto his gear, forcing the weakened man off his wounded partner. The lieutenant struggled in the grip, but the man was strong. He forced Ghost onto the ground, and threw a suit of leaves and grass onto him. The flames licked at the material. "Ghost, stop struggling. It's Archer." At the voice, Ghost did as instructed, and looked over at Roach, seeing Toad using his own ghillie suit to put out the flames. It was then Ghost realized Archer had used his own suit to dampen and suppress the flames that danced across the lieutenant's body.

"You alright?" Ghost turned to look at Archer, an icy glare hidden by his balaclava, though Archer must have been able to sense the aura because he raised his hands, taking a step back. "Whoa, no need to get so hostile, Sir."

His head turned to Roach, looking the young soldier over with a critical eye. He was the FNG of the 141. Well, since Allen died, he was. "How is he?" At the question, Toad looked up quickly, but his gaze landed back on the severely wounded man. His hands ran over Roach's abdomen, wrapping gauze around the wound, pulling it tight.

"Weak. If we don't get you to a proper medic, we'll loose the both of you." Toad looked up once more, his gaze suddenly searching the surrounding area. Bodies littered the forest, most of them belonging to the Ultranationalists, though Scarecrow's body was fairly close by. "Where'd Archer run off to?"

Ghost looked around from his position on the ground, his gaze not finding the sniper. His earpiece startled the injured man, Captain MacTavish's voice filling his ear. "Roach? Ghost? Come in, Ghost. Do you copy? Does anyone copy?" The words of his captain were rushed, panicked almost.

"We're both alive. Burnt like hell, but alive. Tell Price he saved our hides."

"Thank God. Ghost, listen. Be careful out there."

"You worry about your own back, Sir. Kill Shepherd for us, alright Captain?"

"No need to ask. Price and I are already enroute to his location now. Go underground. Find any 141 members you can, and stay out of the radar."

"Read ya loud and clear, Sir." Contempt, Ghost allowed his head to fall back onto the grass below him. Toad came over, a large, calloused hand toaching his side, pressure on his still bleeding wound. The sound of a vehicle approaching rang through the clearing, and Toad looked up, free hand automatically reaching for the Intervention beside him. His hand paused on the sniper rifle however, before moving completely away from the weapon. "It's Archer." Archer came over, and when directed, placed his hands where Toad's had been less than a second before. "Archer, keep pressure on that wound." Ghost ground his teeth together, trying to keep from crying out in pain from Archer's hand on his wound. Toad patched the wound up the best he could, and Archer removed his hands. Ghost was panting. Hard.

"Lucky Bastard." His voice was forced through clenched teeth, trying to work through the pain in his side.

"Who?" Toad looked at Ghost eyes screwed up in puzzlement.

"Roach. He was passed out." At his reply, both snipers turned to look at the black haired man.

"He was shot before you, Ghost. He also took a mortar. You were pulling him, remember?"

Ghost growled. "He's still a bloody lucky bastard." Archer laughed slightly, Toad just shrugged.

"Toad, help me get the two into the truck. We gotta get out of here before Shepherd or Makarov decides to show up." Archer grabbed Roach by his shoulders, while Toad got his legs. The short trip to the truck was watched constantly by Ghost. He didn't miss a beat. The two snipers took their time, not wanting to jostle his wounds. They layed him on the back seat of the large truck, and came back to Ghost. He was carried in much of the same way, loaded beside Roach onto the backseat. The snipers had layed Ghost and Roach in such a way that the two were both laying in ways that were comfortable, and also didn't jostle their wounds so much. Ghost was leaning against the side of the vehicle, both his legs stretching across the back of the seat. Roach was laying the other way, his body in front of Ghosts, layed across the seat.

Ghost watched Roach as the younger soldier stirred, groaning as his muscles tightened in protest. "You look like hell, Mate." At his lieutenant's words, Roach looked over to Ghost, glaring at his superior.

"You don't look much better." Ghost chuckled, but gripped his side as pain wracked through his body, refusing to release the hold it had on him. "What happened?"

Ghost looked at his subordinate, and the the truck grew quiet as it continued on its path. The three waited for Ghost to answer the question Roach had asked him. He sighed. "Shepherd betrayed us. Price warned me right before Shepherd shot you. His soldiers threw us into a ditch where they burned our bodies. I dragged you out, then Toad and Archer showed up, and Toad dressed our wounds." He paused. "Captain MacTavish informed me he and Captain Price were going after Shepherd. He told us to go underground."

Silence followed his words. "So what now?" Toad spoke, though he didn't look away from the road.

"We follow MacTavish's orders and go underground. Hopefully, they will contact us, then we go from there." Ghost allowed his head to fall back onto the seat, his dark green eyes closing in the process. "Just take us to Delta Eagle."