Jоhn McTаvish

11 October 2016. Prague, Czech Republic.

The mission failed. Makarov knew about the attack and planted explosives in advance in the church from where Soape and Yuri were supposed to cover Price. It all went wrong. McTavish was badly wounded, his life hanging in the balance. Price and Yuri hurriedly left the battlefield, dragging their wounded comrade. The blood wouldn't stop, McTavish was losing consciousness.

In the shelter, Price put McTavish on a table. He lost consciousness and fell into a deep sleep.

In his sleep, a woman with an indistinct face approached him. She silently held out her hand as if calling him to follow her. McTavish took her hand, and she led him like a bright light through the streets through which he had fled from pursuit. Suddenly they stopped in front of a café. There McTavish was being laid on a table, trying to bring him to his senses. A gun was placed on his chest, his army dog tags and diary were taken. And he himself lay unconscious.

McTavish tried to enter the café, but his legs wouldn't obey. The woman turned to him, whispering with a smile:

"Go to sleep, my love, go to sleep." - Her bloodied fingers touched his eyes, closing them.

+:｡.｡ ｡.｡:+

McTavish opened his eyes, his chest heaving heavily after such a nightmare. He tried to sit up, but a sharp pain in his side prevented him from doing so, and he lay back on the bunk. The room smelled of antiseptics, everything was grey and the life-support machines were beeping.

A woman dressed in a snow-white dressing gown approached him and bent down to ask about his condition. McTavish looked up at her in incomprehension, dazedly surveying both the room and her. The realisation came to him that he had met her in his dream, that she was the one he had followed through the streets of Prague.

This realisation made the man uneasy, and in a hoarse whisper he asked her:

"Haven't we... haven't we seen each other before?"