A/N: This is going to be a chapter story. Just one warning, there will be events on here that are AU, because of the new character I'm introducing. Not everything will happen 100% like it does in the game.
Disclaimer: All places, events, and characters except my OC all belong to Activision and all the other brilliant people who've developed ModernWarfare3! Thanks for reading everyone, and PLEASE review, good or bad. Reviews keep me motivated!
When I filled out my medical history, I made sure not to include that I had asthma. They would never let me in if they knew I had a breathing disability. And surprisingly, it wasn't that hard to sneak in three full tiny asthma inhalers when they did accept me. I mean, I was just working as an army doctor. It's not like I'd be seeing any action.
The problem was, with Makarov's men closing in soon, any site and any place could turn into a battlefield. I honestly think they purposely didn't check my medical history. The war was reaching desperate measures, even with the government using the draft enlistment.
Luckily, I was just a doctor, working to care for sick and injured soldiers.
The thing was, you see, I HAD experience. I worked at St. Mary's Hospital in New York City beforehand, as one of the youngest doctors in the building. I had completed high school early and started medical school right away. So at age 28, I was already working in a hospital.
I decided to join the military almost immediately, when I heard of Russia's threat to the United States. I let my family know on the smallest notice. I knew they'd object, and worry about me, but I didn't need them or my friends, trying to talk me out of it.
Me, a girl of 28 (soon to be 29) with short black hair, standing at 5'9", and weighing about 140 pounds, would be joining the military.
My name is Petral, by the way. It's a bit of an odd name, but hey, my parents were odd people. But I really don't want to talk about my parents…I'm writing this to clear my mind, because I've seen some really ugly things. Things I know I'll never forget even when I turn old and gray. My parents weren't there. They don't understand. So I'll write about me, the men I've met and befriended, and my hero, Captain Price and how he defeated Valdmir Makarov.
This'll be an interesting story, I promise. Because I never expected to come as far as I did, and to this day, I still don't entirely believe it. It feels like it all happened in a dream. No, a nightmare. A bad nightmare that I'll never forget. But it wasn't a nightmare, it was real. And I hope that one day someone will believe me that every word is true.
The Russians had destroyed the former hospital. So now, there was a large abandoned safehouse building where the patients were held on cots, and medical supplies was crammed everywhere. It was noisy. There was the sound of patients groaning, the electricity generator running, doctors and nurses running from section to section of the small building, and medical equipment beeping.
These doctors were the allies, the Loyalists in Russia.
And it smelled like all hell had been released on earth.
This 'hospital' was a last resort. It was right in the middle of a destroyed town in Afghanistan, and only one other doctor besides me spoke English.
So that kind of sucked. But I was able to do my job well, either way.
But none of us were prepared when the bombs started raining.
People were running, screaming, trying to evacuate the building. I panicked, not knowing whether I should stay with the patients or run with the doctors. I dove under a table, attempting to take cover.
It was a bit stupid, I know, but it was the last thing I could think of.
More bombs were exploding, and now I heard rapid gunfire outside, and men screaming and shouting. I was able to detect English, and some other language, probably Russian. I screamed, knowing no one could hear me.
S
uddenly, I heard voices as men burst through the door.
There were four of them. Three carrying one injured man.
"Keep pressure on that wound!" one man yelled, his accent sounding British.
"I'm trying!" another yelled, this one Russian. I scrambled out from under the table as the two men laid another on the long operating table across the large room.
"Hang in there, my friend," the Russian muttered.
"He needs help, now!" the British man yelled over the roar of the gunfire outside.
I spoke up, my voice shaking badly. "I-I'm a doctor! I'm a doctor…"
The three men standing above the injured man looked at me. The British man spoke first. "Go, help him, quickly!"
I rushed over to the injured man, panicking. His chest was crushed, and he was barely breathing.
The Russian man spoke, yelling to be heard over the ever-growing volume of gunfire. "I've secured a safe route out of the country! A helicopter is waiting outside, but we need to move!"
Looking around, I grabbed an adrenaline shot that was lying on the ground and jabbed the injured man's heart with it, attempting to keep my hands from shaking.
Oh God, oh God, oh God…
That would buy him time.
"Price!" the Russian man screamed. "They're coming into the building!"
The British man, Price, looked at me. "You know how to use a gun?"
Did I know how to use a gun? My dad taught me how to use a rifle, and we'd go up to the range every Saturday when I was younger. He said it might be useful someday when I was older. But I had never killed a man.
When I was 16, my dad took me hunting. I had shot one deer, and I had been so proud of myself then. But a deer was different then a man and I was hardly a trained soldier like these guys.
I stared at him, and he shoved a gun into my hands. I looked up at him, then down at the gun.
Price, the Russian, and the other man picked up their injured friend, and carried him out of the safehouse. Ha. Safehouse. Hear the irony in that one?
I wasn't breathing so well now, and I feared I'd have another asthma attack. I had two of my inhalers in my coat pocket, but I could hardly use any of them now.
"Nikolai, Yuri! Take Soap, I'll take point. You!"
Price pointed at me. "Come with us. Move!"
Price held his gun at point, and I tried to remember what my father taught me.
Keep your breathing steady and calm, Petra. Your heart rate needs to be low.
Well that was just great advice when you had men shooting at you in the middle of Afghanistan, as you're trying to run with two soldiers holding a dying man towards a helicopter in the middle of having an asthma attack.
The helicopter was about two-hundred yards from the building, and we were facing heavy fire. I tried to keep my mind blank as my chest steadily grew heavier, my breathing more labored. One man ran at me, his gun raised.
I shot. He collapsed. Price, Nikolai, Yuri, Soap and I kept moving.
I'll remember that moment as the first time I killed a man.
I followed them, my vision growing ever so blurry by the second, as I forced myself to keep moving, keep moving, keep moving…
Gun fire rang around me, deafening me. I could barely hear the three men running in front me. I knew as long as I kept my mind blank, my eyes open, I'd be able to keep following them.
Another man in front of me, gun raised. I shot and he collapsed. If it was one thing I was good at here, was keeping my mind blank, even though I was panicking.
We heaved Soap onto the helicopter, and Price pulled me up. I realized my stomach was bleeding, and only did then did I realize it hurt.
As my vision darkened, I scrambled for my asthma inhaler as the helicopter took off with us on board. I took a long breath from my inhaler as my vision blackened, my arms heavy. The last thing I remember was the helicopter taking off, and Price shouting above the roar.
I awoke with a blanket around me, my stomach bandaged. The four men were sitting about ten feet away. They were talking, unaware that I had awoken. I could just barely make out their voices over the roar of the helicopter.
"Price, you're bloody insane," one man said. He had a Russian accent, but it was different than Nikolai's. His voice was rougher, and a bit quieter.
Yuri.
I opened my eyes a crack and saw him sitting across from Price, glaring at him.
"Why the hell would you bring her with us? Is she even a trained soldier?"
Price lowered his head, and for a moment, he didn't speak.
"Yuri, didn't you see the way she jumped up and immediately went to help Soap? She was just a bloody doctor, and she acted like a soldier in there! She didn't even hesitate. And she killed two men as we were running to the helicopter. She was the only person in that building, and it was about to get bombed. How the hell could I have left her?"
Yuri glared at him. "She has asthma, Price. And she's just a doctor! She's not fit to be a soldier! Do you honestly expect her to fight with us?"
"I'm going to leave it up to her. Nikolai will be able to take her to a refugee spot if she refuses to help. But I know you can see something different about her Yuri. Nikolai, don't you? I know a good soldier when I see one, Yuri."
Nikolai sighed. "She is different. She is brave…I agree with Price. We should leave it up to her."
Yuri sighed angrily. "I trust you Price. I trust you with my life. And I hope to God I can trust that you're not making a bloody big mistake. If it were anyone else giving me this bloody ridicules idea, I'd give 'em a good slap across the head."
Price chuckled quietly. "I know you would, Yuri. If anything, that's one thing I can count on you for."
They were quiet then. I didn't know what to think. Me…different? Brave? Did I really look that way to Price? I shivered a little under my blanket. They were going to ask me to join them. Right now, I didn't know what to think. The idea frightened me a little, but also excited me.
I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, imagining myself as a soldier, a war hero. My dreams were confusing that night. In them, I was running away from some giant monster in an abandoned city. It kept telling me that if I could defeat it, I'd be the greatest hero in the world. All I had was a pistol, with no ammo. I awoke again late in the night, and didn't sleep till morning.
