Russian Romero
"…Do not trust Shepherd! I say again, do not trust Shepherd! Soap, get down…" Nothing more but gunshots and static that emerged on the other side of Hannah's radio. The female soldier was in shock. Her team has been betrayed by our most respected general. Everyone is dying, one by one. Ghost, Roach, Victim (my OC), Archer, Toad, Ozone, and Scarecrow in Russia. In the boneyard of Afghanistan, Soap and Price are mostly dead, judging by the gunshots she heard. All courage, all spunk, is long gone. Hannah whimpered softly to herself as the battle raged outside her hiding spot. She hid in a hollowed out plane body that must've met its end by a rocket in a dogfight. She quietly cried to herself, wondering what to do next. Run? Fight? Surrender? Wait to die? She didn't know.
"·eer! YA dumayu, chto ya vizhu chto-to tam!" [Sir! I think I see something over there!]
"Khm?" [Hmm?]
"Da!" [Yes!]
The Russian voices got louder and louder. Hannah hardly knew any Russian, so she was clueless and more frightened than better. The footsteps crunched the dust and metal. It was nearly deafening to the fearful Task Force soldier. Her heart pounded in her ears, gunshots and explosions being whispers in her mind. Suddenly, something bounced into her line of sight, making her yelp and shoot it. Bad mistake; she hit a flash bang.
As soon as it exploded, everything she saw was too bright and the blast was enough to make her deaf for a few moments. Dazed, her guard when down, so it told her by surprise when she heard someone snarling, "Ruki vverkh! Brosaĭ oruzhie! Syeĭchas!" [Hands up! Drop your weapon! Now!]
On instinct, Hannah hit the dirt, despite her blindness and deafness. Whoever yelled at her grabbed her back her collar and hoisted her to her feet, hissing at her in Russian. She was in too much shock to even cry or yell for help. When she finally did come to her senses, her fear spiked through the roof and she screamed. It was followed by a very hard smack to her face. "Zatknis', suka!" [Shut up, bitch!]
She whimpered and felt so weak and powerless over her captors. Suddenly, a strong voice snarled back at his comrade, "Enough!"
Hannah looked up when the flash bang's effects wore off. Her eyes widened to looked up to the most dangerous terrorist of them all: Vladimir Makarov. He looked at the soldier with his mesmerizing mix-matched eyes and frowned at his comrade, barking at him in Russian for abusing a woman. His associate countered with phrase that Hannah understood: My plennykh ne brat'. [We take no prisoners.]
Makarov stated quite calmly, "My mozhem ispolʹzovatʹ yee." [We can use her.] The terrorist looked down at Hannah and spoke in English, "Vhat's your callsign?"
"It's A-Ammy," she shook in fear of his presence. Vladimir Makarov has been the Task Force's target since Day 1. He has the blood of thousands of innocents and enemies alike on his hands and he still keeps going without any regret. Victim even stated how ruthless he was in killing her brother, Joseph. Human trafficking, robbery, violence, genocide doesn't even bother him. Hell, he left his comrades to die when they slowed him down! Makarov is bad news and seeing him in the flesh is not a good sign for her.
The Russian terrorist noticed how scared she was of him, so he smirked a bit to flex his power. "You know of me, da?"
"Yes," she nodded.
"Get up. Ve're getting out of here," he commanded as he took Hannah's arm and roughly dragged her through the scrap yard. Taking his Desert Eagle into his right hand, he ordered his associates to cover him and Ammy. They hesitated for a second, wondering why their cold-blooded boss would want to keep her alive, but since orders were orders, they didn't refuse his word. He rushed out into the battle and shot three Shadows with ease. Taking cover behind a junk pile, he told Ammy, "Take your veapon. Reload. Fight if you want to get out of here alive. Am I clear?"
"Yes," she nodded, even though his Russian accent made his English a bit choppy in some places.
Reloading his own firearm, he nodded at her, "On three. One, two…three!" He let her go and rushed out again, blasting Shadows left and right.
Taking her AK-47 she picked up, she had the choice of leaving the terrorist and making a run for it. He's dangerous and through what she witnessed, it was 100% true on how brutal and ruthless he is. However, she did owe him the protection for sparing her life. Maybe a temporary alliance is in order. After all, the enemy of her enemy is her friend.
Oh, she wished that she thought more ahead.
After chatting with Price, Makarov had the grudging respect to wish him luck as his men fought with the Shadows while the broken Task Force escaped the bone yard. What Makarov failed to mention to Price that he had Ammy with him. "Ammy, let's go!" the Russian barked as his men pushed forward. The Task Force soldier nodded as she covered his ass. Makarov watched her from the corner of his left green eye and smirked to himself. 'Not bad for a foreigner.'
As soon as the team made it to the road, Makarov grabbed Ammy again and shoved her into a Hummer disguised to look like junk. Makarov leaped into the driver side. As soon as he fired up the ignition, Ammy froze for a second, "Wait, what about your men?"
"No time," he growled, putting the Hummer in gear and stepped on the gas pedal hard, sending them flying out of the immediate battle zone.
She gasped; he just left them to die. "What the hell?"
His right blue eye turned to her and narrowed at her. She only growled at him but didn't further argue with the terrorist. She only frowned and looked out the window. She sighed, wondering what will happen now.
Suddenly, Makarov barked, "Get down!" He grabbed her back and shoved her down towards the dash board, while he shrank down into his seat. Ammy was about to ask why, but bullets exploded the windshield and the windows answered her question. She yelped and did her best to stay away from the flying lead that penetrated the Hummer's metal frame.
Makarov growled as he saw Shadow vehicles coming after him. He growled in his native tongue, "Ne segodnya, vy lokhi." [Not today, you fuckers.] He hit the gas and made a very sharp turn to avoid getting hit by a Shadow vehicle that nearly rammed into the Hummer's side.
Ammy screamed when the Hummer jolted off the road. "What the fuck are you doing?"
"Saving our asses!" he hissed as he pulled off stunts with the Hummer that one would see in 'Smokey and the Bandit' and 'Dukes of Hazzard.' The terrorist growled as he barked at her, "Take the vheel and keep it steady!"
"What about you?"
His mixed-up eyes bored down into her own, "Don't vorry about me. I'll be fine."
She grabbed it as she watched him take his M4A1 that had a grenade attachment to it. He took the gamble of standing up into the open of range and loaded a grenade into the launcher. The jeep that was flanking the Hummer was about to ram into the Hummer's side. With second-moment thinking, Makarov slammed on the brakes, sending him and Ammy into the dashboards and nearly out the wind shield. The Jeep swerved into the space right in front of the Hummer and with two fluid seconds, Makarov took aim and fired, the jeep exploding right in front of them. Fiery debris flew everywhere, but they were smart enough to hit the floor.
After everything was quiet, Makarov and Ammy sat up and looked at the smoking remains of the jeep and its crew. Ammy turned to the terrorist driver and asked, "Are you ok?"
"Da. You?" he asked back.
She nodded shakingly, "I've been through worse."
Makarov sighed as he began to drive forward again, "I can only imagine." Obviously, his tone was sarcastic, thanks to his intelligence towards the Task Force 141. Two other females were in the Task Force, but the one he feared the most was Victim. She has gained a reputation to kill mercilessly like him, but the fact that she was American (and borderline insane!) spooked him. He was glad that it was Ammy who he ran into in the boneyard.
He stopped the Hummer at his rendezvous point, and was greeted by a Russian soldier. "·eer!" [Sir!]
He got out and stated in his native language, "Chto? Chto vam udalosʹ sobratʹ iz nashyeĭ razvedki ?" [What? What were you able to collect from our intelligence?]
"Nu , Tselevaya gruppa 141 byla razdelena , chastʹ ..." [Well, the Task Force 141 was split up, one part…]
Makarov growled, "YA znayu, chto chastʹ! Chto o bezopasnosti doma!" [I know that part! What about the safe house?]
"·eer,voĭskam udalosʹ skachatʹ vsyu informatsiyu s glavnogo kompʹyutera. Khuzhe togo, oni dali yemu vse generalʹnogo ovcharki." [Sir, the troops were able to download all of the information from the master computer. Worse, they gave it all to General Shepherd.] Makarov was going to cuss at the top of his lungs, because he knew that already, thanks to his chat with Price. However, the associate added, "U menya yestʹ khoroshie novosti , ·eer. Odin iz faĭlov ne byl v sostoyanii peredatʹ." [I do have good news, sir. One of the files wasn't able to transfer.]
He blinked, "Pochemu?" [Why?]
"Ona byla povrezhdena." [It was corrupted.]
Makarov face-palmed, "Ona byla povrezhdena. Glupo, nyeispravnyĭ, koryeĭskogo oborudovaniya. Gde zhe togda?" [Stupid, faulty Korean equipment. Where to, then?]
"Sealand."
Ammy was pissed. She's still under Makarov's wing. He refused to let her go for some odd reason. So as he announced that she and he were going to hide in Sealand, she grumbled, "Great."
That night, she crashed on the bed that was in her room that Makarov gave her. With her weapons and equipment confiscated, she was defenseless against Makarov if he dared to try anything. She's not big into hand-to-hand combat, unlike the rest of the Task Force soldiers. Plus, Makarov, being male, would have more strength (and/or pounds) over her.
"Hey, Ammy," his Russian accent rung through the air.
She looked up to see her captor sitting on the edge of her bed, "What?"
He was taken aback by her tone, but in retrospect, he understood why. "I vanted to see how you vere doing."
"Why did you kidnap me?" she asked. "I thought you'd let me go for helping you escape."
His green and blue eyes softened greatly, while he sighed deeply. "Because…YA lyublyu tebya."
"What? I don't understand Russian very well," she admitted.
"It means…I love you."
He left her room without another word and went to his office to sleep for a few hours. He's exhausted; today was draining for a number of reasons. To him right now, sleep was as precious as gold.
He rolled out of his chair and muttered several swears in his native tongue as he picked himself up off the floor. "It's going to be one of those days? Great," he mumbled tiredly as he dragged himself to the locker room of his base. Looking at himself in the mirror, he noticed how filthy he looked. His face covered in soot, dirt, and blood. Hell, his whole body looked like that. Fighting for your life can do that.
Stripping his bloody and torn up uniform off his dusty body, he tossed it lazily into a corner to rot there until he picked it up again…eventually. Stretching his aching limbs, he hissed softly through his teeth when his back cracked to relief him of some pressure. He looked at his hair through the mirror and ran a dirty hand through the shaggy, oily mop. "Damn. I need a haircut," he stated to himself.
Walking towards the shower room, he stopped and his ears perked up when he heard water going. Slowly and quietly sneaking in, he looked into the big space used for the showers, almost set up like a prison shower room. Hannah was washing her naked body in the center with her back towards naked terrorist.
His eyes couldn't help it; he stared at her, watching the water run down her delicate curves and soften light scars on her flesh. Her hair covered her shoulder blades as she took a bottle of shampoo to wash it. Her frame was so small, especially for a Task Force soldier. Vlad thought, amazed, "How can someone so delicate-looking kill anyone?"
She squealed, making him leap out of his skin for a moment. Some shampoo got into her eyes by accident, making her turn around and stumble a bit, giving him a frontal view. If they could, his mix-matched eyes would've popped out of his skull. He was breathless; she was so beautiful. His eyes went nuts scanning very part of her body, from her flawless face (when not covered in dirt) , to her soft, perky-looking breasts, and to her vagina. Just seeing her whole body made him hard, his body aching for lust.
When she could see again, she noticed Makarov staring at her in lustful awe. She let out a high-pitched scream and threw a bar of soap against his head. He yelped and quickly retreated behind a small wall to allow privacy. "Makarov! What the hell!"
"I didn't see anything," he blushed hard as her body burned a mental picture into his eyes.
"Bullshit!" she barked.
He sighed and then quipped, "I can't fool you, Ammy."
"What did you see?"
"The most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my entire life."
She was flattered, "Really?"
"Da."
"Look, Makarov…"
"Call me Vlad, please."
Her tone softened a bit, "I'm Hannah."
"Hannah. What a beautiful name," he smiled to himself.
She blushed, "Thanks."
The cunning Russian decided that the situation between them cooled down, so he revealed himself to her. She blushed and coyly covered herself up. "Don't," he purred softly, "You shouldn't hide your beauty, Hannah."
The American woman blushed again, especially when Vlad walked closer and closer towards her. Her eyes scanned the man approaching her and her blush deepened. His torso was riddled with scars of all shapes and sizes, giving him a very rigid look. The water plastered his black, shaggy hair to his forehead. Even Hannah had to admit that he was very fit and hot for a terrorist.
Her eyes dropped to his erect manhood, which made her gaze shoot right back up to his own green/blue eyes. Vlad smirked, "You saw it, da?"
"No," Hannah blushed, trying to deny it.
He smirked lustfully as he advanced, making her retreat into a wall, "Da…you…did…" He moved in on her, just inches away from her, his lips slowly connecting with hers. To Hannah's surprise, the kiss itself only lasted a few seconds. When he pulled back, Hannah didn't see a blood-thirsty, vicious terrorist whom slaughtered thousands of innocents without guilt. Instead, she saw a handsome Russian soldier whom saved her life. She stopped his retreating and kissed him.
His green and blue eyes widened when he felt her lips upon his again, but he wasn't going to complain. He kissed her back, his manhood brushing against her thigh. She groaned a little, almost feeling his lustful urge to enter her. Vlad's lips gently began to kiss her neck, purring when she moaned.
"Oh, Vlad," she softly whimpered.
He smirked lustfully as his right hand touched the lips of her vagina, "Your flesh, and your sounds. They're driving me mad." His lips began to travel lower onto her breasts. She gasped lightly as his tongue glazed against the nipple. Her skin shivered pleasurably and her pussy got a little wetter.
He felt her crawling flesh and wetness. He purred evilly, "You're enjoying this, da?" Two of his fingers gently slipped inside her, earning a sharp gasp.
"Y-yes," she answered softly.
He sank to his knees, his tongue teasing her clit while his fingers worked inside her wet void. She gasped, gripping a nearby towel rod. Her taste and pleasure only craved more from her, his member hardening even more.
He finally couldn't stand it; his urges were too great. Standing up right, he kissed her passionately, guiding his tip into her vagina. Hannah gasped loudly as it penetrated her void, her walls inflaming with tiny pings of pain. Oh, my God!" she gasped.
He drove his cock in deeper, his tip piercing through her cherry. Some blood trickled down her leg and onto the wet tile floor. Vlad hissed pleasurably through his teeth while Hannah whimpered softly from the odd sensation that filled her deep inside.
Vlad lift her left leg up as he began to slowly drive his hard cock into her virgin void. Hannah wrapped her arms around his neck, moaning in both pain and pleasure. He grunted as he picked her up (using the wall as support) and made her ride him.
"Ahh! She gasped as his cock began to trust a little faster. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she breathing got faster and slam down on his member when he thrusted upwards. He grunted with bliss when their moves were in sync with each other.
Close to her climax, Hannah clawed his shoulders, "Vlad! I'm cumming!"
"He grumbled something in Russian, which Hannah didn't catch and he thrusted one last time, spilling his salty seed inside her void. She screamed in ecstasy as she came with him. They both gasped and began panting heavily after it was over.
Vlad pulled out and carried her to a wooden bench. He placed her down while he sank to the floor and rested his head on it. Hannah looked down at her Russian lover and gently petted his damp hair, "I wasn't expecting that when I came in here."
He smiled, "Da. Me neither."
*Ending canon to MW3 (months after MW2)*
"Yuri! Let's go!" I barked as Price, Yuri and I struggled to survive the Russian onslaught in the Hotel Oasis penthouse.
"Victim!" Price shouted, "Hostile, on your right!"
I snapped my trademark SCAR-H to my right side and with a small squeeze of the trigger and the Russian went down. My blood boiled with rage. Not only did this Commie gun-humper kill my brother, but also my captain, John 'Soap' MacTavish. The man that took me and Gary in as if we were his own children who needed a firm hand. He was my father figure and that terrorist took him away from me. Price is right: Makarov will not leave here alive.
"There he is!" I heard Price yell.
I was up in a flash, racing to my captain's side when I saw something as if I was hallucinating. I stopped dead in my tracks, with Yuri running past me. I couldn't believe; I saw her. I saw Hannah 'Amaterasu' Sunderland.
"Ammy?"
"Victim?"
Suddenly, Yuri yelled, "Rockets!"
I snapped my attention to my Russian comrade. He wasn't kidding. Just seconds before he said it, a chopper was just outside the windows. And apparently, the pilot knew exactly where to aim those rockets: right into the support beams of the restaurant.
I did my best to avoid the exploding debris, but when on the last column, I forget that Ammy was right there. Dropping my SCAR-H, I gasped and right before the ground gave way, I pulled out my knife, grabbed her roughly and stuck it into the floorboards. She screamed when the floor fell almost vertical, so she hung onto me for dear life.
I saw Price nearly slide to his death, but as soon as he grabbed the steel bar, I was a little more at ease. However, I panicked when Yuri got impaled. As soon as he yelled in pain, I shouted with concern, "Yuri!"
Ammy watched as Price pulled himself up and turn to his Russian partner. Shocked and suddenly got soft towards Makarov's traitor, "Yuri…"
He just grunted, "Leave me! Don't let him get away!"
"Captain, I've got Yuri! Got after that terrorist and end this!" I stated.
Ammy was shocked of what she was hearing: we're here to finish Vlad off. As soon as we got our footing again, I rushed to Yuri, while Price took off to the roof. Yuri arched back in agony as I hissed, "Damn, Yuri. Why?"
"Not my fault, Victim," he stated with an oddly light tone. "That's just my luck."
I rolled my eyes as I took Yuri by the arms and whimpered a warning, "This will hurt. I'm going to have to yank you up."
He gripped my arms tight and nodded, "Da. I'm ready."
"One, two…three!" SHINK! With a yell that shook the broken glass around us, Yuri was free. "Ok. I need to get you somewhere safe so you can…"
He quickly stopped me, "No…Crystal…I'm dying. Let me go out fighting."
Ammy was amazed on how determined Yuri was to kill her lover. However, it was the first time Yuri noticed her. "Who are you?"
"I'm Ammy," she stated, "Ex-Task Force soldier."
I growled, "I don't like the way you said it."
"What did you expect! It's been months since our team's betrayal and you're still trying to do the impossible! Like assassinating Vlad!"
My eyes narrowed, "Why did you call him by his first name?"
"Nevermind. Is anyone else alive?"
I frowned as I looked down at the splintered flood boards, "No. Ghost and…"I exhaled sharply, "Roach were killed by Shepherd. And S-Soap was…" Suddenly, I grew violent, my rage fuelling my lethal strength, "He was killed by your fuckin' Russian!"
Ammy gasped. Vlad killed Soap?
With a growl that could scare a tiger, I said, "We don't have time for this! Price may be in trouble. You're free to come if you want, but don't expect a lot of help from me!" Taking Yuri's right arm, I swung it over my shoulders as I lift him back to his feet.
We began hobbling towards the stairwell to the roof when Yuri muttered, "Crystal?"
"Hmm?"
"YA lyublyu tebya."
"That's nice and flattering, Yuri," I sighed sadly. Every man who loves me dies. That's my luck right there.
"I have no regrets," he sighed lightly as if a great weight was lifted from his soul.
Ammy helped me with getting Yuri back on his feet and frowned deeply. Yuri uttered the same phrase Vlad did to her. But instead of swooning into his arms, I acted so heartless and cold towards the Russian. "Victim, has this war killed your compassion?"
"Yes. It died a long time ago," I stated coldly.
She then turned to Yuri and stated, "She wasn't always like this."
Yuri smiled weakly at her, "Da, I know."
"Ammy, get out of here, before you're killed too." I lost too many of my own team to bare losing anymore. Ammy is like a little sister to me.
She frowned and shook her head, "No, Victim. I'm here for a reason."
"Oh, let me guess. Makarov is your baby daddy."
"He's my husband."
Yuri and I stopped in utter shock. The only thing that jolted us back to reality was a chopper crash. "PRICE!" we yelped in horror as we rushed up the stairs, horrified to see a helicopter on fire and Makarov stumbling towards Price, who was crawling for a Desert Eagle.
As soon as Makarov grabbed the powerful handgun, he uttered while holding his side, "Goodbye, Captain Price."
Yuri and I rushed in to aid our captain. I yelled, "Makarov!"
He turned his head, only to be greeted by a bullet to his shoulder from Yuri's pistol. That pissed Makarov off. The terrorist fired at Yuri and hit his left shoulder, his right shoulder, and then into the chest. "NO!" I yelled as I watched my Russian companion fall to the ground like a sack of potatoes.
Makarov then turned his pistol to me, "Victim…"
"The one and only, asshole!" I hissed as I rushed blindly towards him. He fired, the bullet grazing against my head. I shrieked, but didn't let up as I tackled the guy to the ground. There was actual fear in the Russian's eyes as he struggled to fight against me. I knew he was wounded in the left side, so that's where I aimed first. He yelped loudly as he punched me in the head. I hissed, thankful he didn't hit my grazed side, but as soon as I thought it, he hit it. I shrieked in pain, and felt his head slam into my cheek and jaw.
I tried to hold him down as long as possible, but oddly enough, I wasn't putting up a huge fight. Ammy loves him. That's like saying Price beating up Roach for liking me. Painful flashbacks hit me as I looked down at Makarov's bloody, bruised face.
~ "Joe! You're such an asshole!"
My twin only laughed, "I know, but you still love me!"~
~ "Gary…"
He growled, "Don't you 'Gary…' me! You stay here and don't even think about going after me! Got it?"
I frowned and stared at him with sadness. He sighed deeply and embraced me softly and tenderly, "Please, love. Don't. You're safe in here."~
~ "Captain MacTavish?"
"Victim," he sighed, his life hanging by a thread, "Be good for Price. He's not as young as he used to be."~
Makarov took this opportunity of my stalling to roll over and hit my pressure in my collarbone. I screamed loudly as I kneeled over, my murderous energy depleted. He chuckled and coughed, "What happened to you, eh? You lost the will to fight?"
I looked up at him and snarled, "You should know that…you killed everyone I ever cared for…"
"And I should let you live, so you can live with that feeling of being alone."
That's when Price launched himself on top of Makarov and fought with him. I slowly stood up and looked towards Ammy who was sobbing softly, watching her ex-captain and her husband fight to the death. She noticed that the glass began to crack, so she gasped when it finally gave way, sending everyone: Price, Yuri, Makarov and I down into the penthouse below.
Everything stopped with a short drop and a painful stop.
Price, wounded badly from his scramble with Makarov and the drop, looked up to see the most feared terrorist hanging, slightly swinging side to side. With a sigh, he pulled out a cigar and lit up, watching his foe swing there.
I landed hard on my side. I landed near Yuri, who was still moving, despite his multiple bullet wounds. "Victim…"
It was too painful to stand up, so I had to crawl over to him. "Yuri…"
The light-haired Russian looked up at me and smiled, gently grabbing my bloody hand, "I'm…glad…you'll be the…last thing I see…before…" His blue-purple eyes lost its entire spark as he exhaled his last breath, his grip on my hand slacking greatly as it slipped out of my own. I gritted my teeth and bent my head in a moment of silence for the brave Russian, who I've befriended.
Ammy watched in tears as Vlad swung over the open floor. Her husband is dead and being left there. She wanted to kill Price for doing that to him, but she remembered what I said: he killed Soap. John 'Soap' MacTavish, the captain she fell in love with in her Task Force days. How come Vlad never told her that he was alive? Not just Soap, but Price, Nikolai, and Victim as well. Maybe it was for protective purposes or maybe to assure insurance against a broken heart. Vlad truly loved her. He even gave her one (soon to be two!) beautiful children. Despite what Vlad was, she still loved him and what they had was real. Real passion, real heat, real love.
Sirens and shouting alerted all of us that were still standing. "Cops, Price?" I asked as I harvested Yuri's dogtags.
He nodded, "And hopefully paramedics. We all need it."
I frowned, "Yuri's dead, sir."
"I know, Victim. We've lost so many…"
"Sir, with all due respect, I'd really be grateful if you didn't list off our lost comrades, ok?"
Ammy cried softly, "I second that request, sir."
He removed the cigar from his mouth and exhaled a thin stream of smoke, "Very well, you two. Victim? How do you fare?"
"Painfully, sir. I can barely stand."
Price struggled to his feet, but the landing was taking its toll on the old captain as well. He yelled in pain as he sank down again, unable to move. "Well, at least you can crawl, Victim. I'm down."
Taking Yuri's tags and stuffing them into my pocket, I gave his body one last salute before crawling for Price. Ammy hopped over the rubble and helped me to my feet. "Can you stand, Crystal?"
I put weight on my legs and my left one flinched a bit. "My left will limp, but not as bad as I thought."
"Lucky bugger," Price grunted.
I smirked at my captain and grunted in a gravelly voice, "You're gettin' too old for this shit!"
Price gave me a very hard look, but it quickly ended when we heard footsteps coming at us. Cops raised their guns to us, yelling to keep our hands where they can see them. We obeyed slowly, not wanting any trouble. Medics came in and took Price and I out to see our injuries and took Yuri's and Vlad's bodies down into body bags. They led us out of the disaster area and outside, where an ambulance would treat us.
What I didn't expect to see was an infant with a very dull brown left eye and a very vibrant blue right eye was being held by a Russian soldier. He looked a lot like Makarov, but as soon as I saw Ammy took him and cry into the infant's head softly, my heart ripped in half at the realization: he's her and Vlad's son.
"Hannah," I called her, my eyes watering a bit.
She walked to me with her baby in her arms, "Yes?'
"I'm sorry about losing Maka- Vlad."
She just sobbed a little more.
I sighed, and sang softly a chorus to a song:
When my time comes
Forget the wrong that I've done
Help me leave behind some
Reasons to be missed.
Don't resent me
And when you're feeling empty
Keep me in your memory
Leave out all the rest, Leave out all the rest.
Ammy nodded, "Well sung, Victim." She looked up into the smoky, dark sky, "Well sung."
*Non canon MW3 (1-2 days after MW2)*
With a very swift kick, the door was torn off its hinges and flew to the ground. Ammy screamed startled, while Vlad held her close. The terrorist looked up and gasped when a SCAR-H barrel aimed directly between his eyes, followed by a demanding and snarling voice, "Freeze, you Commie scum! Let Ammy go!"
She looked up passed his shoulder when she heard her callsign. Her eyes widened, "Victim…you're alive!"
I nodded, "Very much so." I turned to my partner, who walked in when I kicked in the door and commanded, "Writer, keep your weapon on the pinko there, while I get Ammy out."
"I'm on it," he stated as he brought his ACR up and kept it aimed at Makarov. The Russian growled as his hands went above his head.
Ammy got up, naked and stated, "Don't hurt him! Please, Victim, don't!"
I grabbed her arm and asked, "What? He kidnapped you! Why are you even showing compassion for this Commie!"
"If I may speak here," Vlad growled, "how did you breach this place anyvay?"
Writer smirked, "It's actually quite brilliant. That one corrupted file that refused to transfer, Victim wrote it down by hand and kept it safe from Shepherd's preying eyes."
"Plus, seeing no guards and patrols helped greatly," I added, "No need to alert you with gunshots and explosions."
"Victim, who is this anyway?" Ammy asked, looking at Writer with a cautious eye.
"This is Writer, one of us," I stated proudly.
"Shadow Company," Vlad snarled, which was greeted by a bash to the head by the ACR's butt.
"What?" Ammy gasped as she looked at Writer's uniform more carefully.
"I was," he stated, shifting his shoulders a bit, "but when Shepherd betrayed on my old team, I refused to obey. In fact, if it wasn't for me, Victim would be dead too."
"Boastful, aren't we? Anyway, Ammy, he was with us before he got transferred to Shadow Company. He left before you came along, so that's why you don't know."
"Speaking of the team," Ammy took a deep breath, knowing she was about to step into a sensitive topic of conversation, "What's the team status?"
Writer frowned, while I began to tear up a little, "Half of us are gone."
"Ghost?"
"KIA."
"Archer?"
"MIA."
"Scarecrow?"
"KIA."
"Ozone?"
"KIA."
"Toad?"
"MIA."
"What about…Roach?"
"KIA as well."
"Price?"
"No, he's alive."
"Well, what about Captain MacTavish?" she asked hopefully.
I sighed, "I'm not too sure…"
"In other words," Writer clarified, "Soap may or may not be dead."
Her eyes began to water, "How?"
"He took a knife to the chest. Writer and I volunteered to cover them as they fled the scene and decided to find you and this bastard."
Ammy looked at Vlad, whose right cheek began to bruise and swell. "Why?"
"Right now, you must come back with us," Writer told her.
She frowned, "But…"
"And," I quickly added, "It was Soap's last words to us. Hell, it could be his last words ever!"
She finally nodded, "I'll go…IF, we leave quietly. I don't want you to hurt Vlad."
Writer pouted, but then sighed, "Very well."
Vlad frowned, while Ammy added one more thing, "Give me a minute alone with him."
I sneered at the terrorist, but nodded at her request, "Fine, but Writer and I will be right outside the door."
Once we left, Vlad pulled her in for a farewell kiss, but didn't say anything. His eyes spoke for him, "I love you."
A few notes here:
This is a oneshot I owe one if my best friends Okamiden Amaterasu. Hannah "Amaterasu/Ammy" Sunderland belongs to her.
If anyone gets offened from the word 'pinko' then whoops sorry. I didn't mean to do that. I just wanted to show Victim's hatred for Makarov through her dialogue.
Normally, I didn't expect to write a lemon, but if you want to read the censored version, go to Quizilla and type in 'Russian Romeo' in the search box. Or...go to the Facebook page on my profile.
Writer belongs to Awkward Headshot
Crystal "Victim" Allen belongs to me.
I don't own John Price, Yuri, Vladimir Makarov, John "Soap" MacTavish (mentioned), Simon "Ghost" Riley (mentioned), Gary "Roach" Sanderson (mentioned), Ozone, Scarecrow, Shepherd, Archer, or Toad (all mentioned).
I hope you enjoy it!