A/N: To my old readers: welcome back! To my new readers: Welcome! First things first; this is a sequel to the fanfic "The Elite Task Force". I suggest you read that first or you won't understand how the story developed and you will get confused resulting in not enjoying this fic; something that I definitely do not want to happen to you!

All of you who have stuck with the Elite Task Force and Task Force 141, thank you from the bottom of my heart! You have inspired me to write a sequel :3

As always, constructive criticism is welcome. There is always room for improvement and that is why I urge you to list your concerns or positive remarks in the reviews.

This is the first chapter for "Disavowed but Not Forgotten". Enjoy it :)

The sound of a helicopter echoed in the background as the soldier felt himself being heaved and settled on some kind of surface. He opened his eyes slowly and saw a bright blue sky with clouds floating peacefully. A man was looking back at him and nodded. That beard and boonie hat was familiar. He knew him from somewhere but he couldn't remember where. The soldier felt himself moving and realised that the surface he was lying on was a gurney and he was being pushed into a building. But who was that man?

"It's the FNG sir. Go easy on him sir, it's his first day at the Regiment."

"Right... What the hell kinda name is Soap, eh? How'd a muppet like you pass Selection?"

Captain Price!

Soap tried to call out but felt a huge pain in his abdomen and looked down to see the bandages soaked in blood. He groaned in pain and tried to talk but his mouth felt dry and could feel spittle at the corner of his mouth. The building was dark and there were several soldiers on the side. A soldier was shouting for the doctor with a heavy Russian accent – Nikolai...

He couldn't stay awake for long. There is an image of a woman stuck in his mind. She had long, light brown hair and light green eyes. He felt in seventh heaven thinking about her. Everything was fading away.

"Price, we've got vital signs but they're weak. Soap won't last without proper attention!" said Nikolai, panicking.

"He's a hard bastard," said Price, determined. "Trust me, he'll make it."

The safehouse was situated in Himachal Pradesh, India where the buildings were beautifully built with their unique style in architecture. Nonetheless, they were not there to admire the colourful culture.

An old doctor with tufts of white hair on the side of his head and naturally sad eyes was wearing a white apron smeared in blood. He changed his rubber gloves and started observing the soldier on the stretcher and started working on him.

"Nikolai! Our perimeter has been breached!" yelled a Loyalist soldier.

"We've got company," said Nikolai gravely.

"It's Makarov; he's tying up loose ends," replied Price rubbing his forehead. "Who's your best man?"

Yuri; ex-Spetsnaz. Only man I know who hates Makarov more than you."

"Get him. They'll use the ridgeline for cover and fly in from the south."

"How do you know?"

"It's what I'd do."

"Let's go save New York gentlemen," said Sandman.

1st Special Forces Operation Detachment-Delta, more known as Delta Force, had Team Metal on standby at Bennett Field which was in the vicinity of New York. Master Sergeant 'Sandman', leader of Team Metal, was with three other soldiers sitting in a Humvee and bouncing around due to road bumps.

The city looked in total mayhem; buildings and skyscrapers were on fire or collapsing, the Harbour was filled with Russian submarines and the sky full of helicopters. Numerous units such as the 75th Rangers and the 2nd Marine division were sent in order to get the situation under control. The Russians have installed some kind of jamming tower on top of the New York Exchange. The mission was simple: destroy the tower, take New York back. However, all of the team knew that no mission is that effortless.

"Where are the 'Angels' when you need them huh?" asked Truck.

"What happened to the Elite Task Force anyway?" asked Grinch, checking his gear.

"Half the team is MIA; possibly KIA," replied Sandman indifferently, looking out of the window.

"If you ask me," started Truck, "they shouldn't have let women on the front lines. Let alone into spec ops."

"Come on man, that's not cool," said Grinch, scratching his neck.

"What? It's true! Science proved that women are less able than men in combat, both physically and mentally. What do you think Frost?"

Staff Sergeant Derek 'Frost' Westbrook was sitting in the corner of the Humvee, looking out unfocused. Frost was not the kind of guy to be in the spotlight. He is very laidback and prefers to observe and listen rather than be in the discussion itself. In spite of being silent, it does not mean that he is not alert of his surroundings.

He raised his eyebrow and turned his head slowly while chewing on a gum.

"I think that you are a chauvinistic asshole, Truck," he replied.

Grinch burst out laughing and Sandman smirked. Truck scowled and picked his Desert Eagle and started checking it out. Sergeant First Class 'Truck' was quite the teaser; his dark skin visible under the helmet. He was not part of those who agreed with women being on the front lines. Always playing it cool in front of his mates, he never admitted that he himself would be distracted in combat if there were women fighting near him because of being constantly worried about them.

On the other hand, Grinch may share the same rank as his friend Truck, but he marched to the beat of a different drummer. He approved of the new bill and was even favourable for Delta Force to open new posts for army women even though that never happened yet.

"Thanks for your backup dude," said Truck sarcastically.

"They have a woman Ranger on the team," said Frost, leaning forward. "Plus, the captain and the lieutenant have saved the President's son. I think that's saying a lot about them as soldiers."

"You're saying that because you like that blonde Marine," teased Grinch.

"Daniels was it?" Truck chortled.

"Guys, she's engaged to be married."

"You never know," winked Grinch.

They were soon interrupted by a huge explosion. Looking out of the window, they saw the remains of an Mi-24 collapse in slow-motion towards them.

"What the-?!" exclaimed Grinch.

"Look out!" yelled Truck.

The Humvee turned and rolled and so did the soldiers inside it. Dazed and baffled by what just happened, Team Metal tried to free themselves only to be interrupted by a loud bang and the next thing they saw was only darkness.

Blacked out by the sudden outburst, Frost started opening his eyes slowly feeling his head swim. The first thing he saw was Sandman in front of him fidgeting with the seatbelt. He grabbed his combat knife and slashed it off.

"Get switched on!" he said to Frost. "We have to move!"

Truck and Grinch were already outside observing the perimeter.

"The jammer's 500 meters north! We'll leg it from here! Let's go! Grinch, Truck, you up?"

"We're good!" replied Grinch.

"Move out!"

An Mi-8 piloted by the two Loyalists was carrying a number of soldiers to their safehouse in Himachal Pradesh, India. Among the Russian chatter, one can notice three soldiers speaking English; two of them with an American accent and the other one with a thick Russian accent. These three women stood near the door of the chopper, checking that everything in their gear and equipment was in place.

"Allen," said the Russian with flaming, red hair, "any news on New York?"

"Nothing yet Red," replied Allen. "Command's pretty busy right now."

"We should be there right now," said Daniels, checking her M16.

"Right now, the Loyalists need more help," said Allen, clipping a mag in her M21 sniper rifle. "I'm sure that they'll take New York back without any problem."

"I hope so," Daniels sighed.

Sergeant Clare Daniels was worried sick about her fiancé Derek who did not want to leave New York at any cost regardless of her endless warnings to get out of there. These last months, their relationship was not going smooth. They were supposed to get married months ago but with problems arising almost every minute, Daniels did not dream to take time off.

She smoothed her naturally blond hair which was tied in a tight bun at the base of her head. Her sparkly, light blue eyes scanned the horizon outside the helo as she clutched on to her M16; the choice of rifle by the United States Marine Corps.

"My pochti tam; ETA 3 minut," said the pilot.

(We are nearly there; ETA 3 minutes)

"Rodzher," said Red. "Three minutes ladies."

"Copy."

They could see the safehouse in the distance surrounded by helicopters and soldiers sliding down. Everyone had a puzzled expression on their face and gasped as they realised that the safehouse was under attack by Makarov's forces, the Ultranationalists.

"That's not good," gulped Daniels.

They arrived near the building and noticed that the top part was blasted off and could see someone looking down on the courtyard.

"Is that... is that Price?!" asked Allen, scratching her short, black hair.

"We'll stay in the helicopter and provide assistance from the sky," said Red, as the Loyalists started sliding down to get into the action.

Red tossed aside her AK-47 and grabbed a Dragunov SVD for sniping.

"Roger that," replied Daniels, grabbing an M40.

Allen peeked through the scope of her M21 and surveyed the area.

"They are being swarmed by enemy forces," said Allen. "If we don't get on it, they'll be dead within a few minutes."

"Let's get to it then," smirked Daniels. "Oorah?"

"Hooah!"

Daniel glanced at Allen and the latter shrugged.

"What? I'm a proud US Army Ranger. You won't hear an 'Oorah' from me sweetheart."

Daniels giggled and rolled her eyes.

"Less talking more shooting!" said Red who is already clipping a fresh mag in her Dragunov.

"On it!"

I will continue developing and describing/explaining the characters in the following chapters. If you wish to ask or tell me something, do not hesitate to send me a private message :)

I hope you enjoyed it and take care :D xxx