Don't fear the reaper - Captain John Price

LVIII

The first day of spring arrived with the warmer winds traveling all over the capital. London has always been busy. The cars were rushing along the streets of the city as people tried to catch their plans and felt impatience every time the traffic signal lighted up with a bright red. Different souls with different paths, views, opinions, and hearts found their place in the capital even if it was just for a while. Tourists watched over the landmarks and captured the moments in the photographs to make the skyline of London stay in their memory forever. The city was full of life, but little did the people with their heads buried in their own business know that the person who wanted to bring death to the capital was walking nearby.

The 24 platforms of the Waterloo station were busy every single day transporting people from and into the city. The crowd of passengers followed their own paths, ready to leave the city far away behind and explore the new place, or come back into the warmth of their hometown away from the glass skyscrapers and the gray skies. The laughter of a small girl who was running into the arms of her father was silenced by the voices of the people, while on the other side of the station, the couple was saying their final goodbyes before letting the distance separate the two. Thousands of people were passing through the station every day, not even thinking twice about the security of the place. The feeling of being secured on the street, in a public place, or even in the walls of our own homes can be interrupted at any moment, but human nature tries to ignore all the red flags or eyes notice.

The dark cars parked away from the rail station, keeping the attention away from the team in case Konni's eyes were out on the streets of the city. Price looked over the building he passed so many times on the route to one of his favorite pubs a couple of streets away from it. The cigar was sitting in the pocket of his uniform, but the captain was keeping it for the moment for the successful completion of the mission. The anger over the failed attempts to catch Makarov could finally help John finish the mission, get revenge, and bury the last enemy of his deep into the ground.

"Alpha Team stays on the ground, we need to have the eyes at the station," John's voice traveled through the headsets of the teams, as both Alpha and Bravo teams prepared to hold the positions. Alpha team had to go undercover, to notice anything suspicious in the crowd of the people outside and inside of the station. As for the Bravo Team, they had to neutralize the threat and keep the city in safety, letting the people enjoy the bubble of secure feeling. "Bravo Team will take care of the tunnels. Questions?"

"No, sir," Captain MacMillan nodded, joining the Alpha team as he concealed the weapon away from the curious eyes. The soldiers had to make sure no civilian nor Konni felt suspicious around any of them. The poor cover could spoil the greatest planning.

"Knight, may I have you for a moment?" Price fixed his armored west, making sure it was keeping his chest protected from any bullets that could and would be flying toward him. The blue eyes found the worried look of the brown eyes in the crowd of the soldiers.

"Sure, captain," Amelia nodded, stepping aside from the team and joined the man. A brunette tried to brush off any thoughts of worry she could have on her mind. The officer couldn't help but think about the last time they tried to stop Makarov. The view of Johnny's lifeless body stayed in front of her eyes, as Knight looked into the eyes of the captain as if trying to remember every single one of his facial features, in case Makarov took away the last person she loved.  

"Listen, love. I need you to stay with the Alpha team on the ground, no improvisation like last time. We clear?" The captain held the weapon closer to his chest, ready to meet face-to-face with anything that was hiding inside of the tunnels or even at the stations. Price gave up, taking the cigar out of the pocket of his jacket, and letting the tobacco leave the taste on his lips.