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Soap has been Price’s mad dog. They were all Price’s dog. But Soap was his wild card. Explosive and bright. Rabid and foaming at the mouth, alway just one wrong mood from being put down. It was a well known fact. Even Soap seemed to know it on some level. He had no regard for his life, only coming back because he was ordered to come back alive.
He would set an explosion and watch is blow with childlike glee before seemingly forgetting he was responsible for such destruction. He was never responsible for his actions. You don’t blame the dog. You blame the owner. Soap enjoyed the military structure. Price would get hit if he did something wrong. Then Price would either beat Soap back into the cage of obedience threatening to take him out back. Or sometimes if Price was actually pleased with Soap’s disobedience he would instead allow his Lieutenant, a lone wolf, to do as he pleased with Soap.
Soap would leave Ghost’s care with bandages of carefully placed cuts and bitemarks that broke skin. Soap wasn’t allowed to bite. He might spread something. Rabid mutt he was. He was muzzled often. To make sure he didn’t chew on the furniture or people. To remind him of his place.
Sometimes he felt a tinge of envy for Gaz. The loyal purebred that was handpicked for willingness and energy. Not a mutt or a feral, but something prized and loved. Something to be protected. Soap’s desire to protect Gaz’s perfection was stronger then his envy. Afterall envy was a sin, but protecting the divine for your keeper. Well that was just how the world worked. Wasn’t it?
Soap had heard once that 75 percent of soldiers purposely miss their shots or don’t shoot at all. That the idea of killing another human is so strong they are willing to go against orders and training just to avoid it.
It’s why drones are so effective, it makes the person piloting them forget the people they are shooting are people in someways. It allows a distance from the person you were murdering for someone’s ideas.
Price picked each of them because they would make the shot. They would shoot a man without more than a moment's hesitation.
Or really hesitation on Gaz’s part. He really was good at being a loyal dog. Knows the morals but is willing to bend them to fit the orders.
Soap and Ghost were always biting, barking, chasing that next kill. That next time they could sink their teeth into flesh. Feel as their shot makes contact. Swipe across a throat with a knife that was obsessively sharpened.
Price smiled, he liked his dogs with more bite than bark. Even as Shepherd tried to claim that Soap must be more bark. Or a recruit muttered how Ghost must be all rumor.
Then Mexico happened. Price had to regrettably let his dogs off the leash and hope they didn’t just get put down by animal control.
Shepherd called Graves a dog with a bone. And Price had to bite back a laugh when he heard that later. The man wasn’t dead. Soap had gone back to check the tank to find no body.
Soap wanted a body.
Price called him off it.
Soap bit the hand that held his leash.
Soap was tired of not being allowed the final blow.
He wasn’t allowed the final blow of Marakov and the man was now back.
He was told to let go of Hassan in the desert.
He missed the final blow on Graves and was then deprived of the hunt.
He wasn’t allowed to hold Shepherd responsible for his dog.
Price knocked the mutt to the floor. Price towered over the mutt in a way that made the mutt remember his father. It felt like a false version of safety.
Then the Lieutenant was between him and Price. Trying to pacify the man.
It only made him angrier. How dare this mutt make a pack with the feral wolf. That was not in the design. The two were supposed to tear each other to shreds before they ever thought of being friends.
Gaz watched with wide eyes. He didn’t even defend himself when the Lieutenant got him by the throat, holding him like a hostage. A feral growl.
Soap whined, his eyes going wide. How could Ghost ever consider touching something so pure? To threaten something so perfect with such dirty paws.
Then Ghost was shot through the head by their owner. But that is what happened to a feral when they finally lost their self preservation.
“God damn I really wish it didn’t come to this. But I do have clearance.”
Then Soap felt the shot through his temple.