A/N: I fucking love plot bunnies! Really, I do.

This came to me while I was playing SpecOps with my brother. In the Spec Ops, you just spawn out of nowhere in all these different places, some based off levels, and some just random. I think I can stick a plot into the Ops. Enjoy, and please review!

Special Operations: The Pit

Pvt. Mark Pierce:

Fire Base Phoenix, Afghanistan

Ever since our formation, we Rangers have considered ourselves to be a very elite, powerful unit. We are deadly, accurate, and our forces will always lead the way. None of us ever doubted it, until the day that the Task Force 141 paid us a visit.

From the moment their Pave Lows touched down, I knew that we weren't dealing with a normal military unit. Everything from their clothes to their weapons were clearly out of the ordinary. From my position, I was able to distinguish the many different flag patches on their mismatched uniforms, and the international variety of weapons slung across their shoulders. After a quick glance at their surroundings, the Task Force made their way to a small set of barracks towards the northern edge of the base. A few members of the team broke off from the group, and jogged over to the command building. Although I was curious, the sound of the mess bell took my mind off them, and I joined the mass of eager privates rushing to be first in line for today's supper.

I was awoken the next day by my buddy, Private Allen.

"Dude, the Task Force is running the Pit! Holy shit, you've gotta see this. Get up!" he shouted, shaking my shoulder roughly. I leapt out of bed, quickly lacing my boots and throwing on a white t-shirt and tan combat pants. Allen ran from my barrack, and I followed, jogging over to the observation area. From where we stood, I could see them lined up in the "armoury", as one of their men sprinted through the last part of the course. As he neared the end, he pulled a knife from his belt and threw it into the last target. A buzzer sounded as he cleared the finish.

"22.35 seconds. Nice work, dude." shouted Corporal Dunn, the guy in charge of the Pit.

"Good job, Meat. Alright, who's next?" called another man, likely the CO.

"I'll go, sir."

A third man stepped forward, snatching an M1911 off of the table. He looked up at observation, and my jaw dropped in surprise. His face was covered by a dark skeleton mask and blood-red sunglasses. Dunn pushed a few buttons on the wall, resetting the course for him.

"Good luck, Ghost." he said, opening the gate. As the gate swung open, the man called Ghost lunged forward. Withing seconds, he had cleared his way to the building.

"Holy shit!" I heard Allen call next to me. Truth is, I was amazed at how fast he was going with just an M1911. Barely any time passed, and he dashed across the finish, coming to a rest against one of the gated walls.

"18.28 seconds." reported Dunn. "Shit, that was fucking amazing!"

Ghost nodded, turning his gaze to the CO.

"Your turn, Mactavish." he said, crossing his arms over his chest. The rest of the men whooped in excitement as their CO loaded a UMP45. As the gate opened, he stepped into the course, unleashing a precise storm of bullets into the metal targets. Even faster that Ghost, he made his way into the building. All us Rangers watched in silence, simply flabbergasted at how fast these guys were. Within seconds, he was shooting down the last of the targets, and bounding over the finish.

"Shit, 18.26 seconds!" called Dunn. Around them, the rest of the 141 shouted and cheered.

"Beat you again, eh?" said Mactavish to Ghost, a teasing tone taking over his strong Scottish accent. Ghost leaned in, throwing his CO a light punch.

"Bollocks! With all due respect, sir, I was using an M1911. I think I did pretty damn good." he replied in an equally strong British accent. The men laughed, walking up the stairs and back to their barracks. Beside me, Allen was cursing.

"Shit, man. They made us look like we were moving in freaking slow motion. What's Shepherd going to think of our unit now, beaten by a bunch of primadonnas."

I laughed, pushing him aside as I climbed back down.

"Hey Dunn!" I called, jogging over to the Pit. "Fancy giving me a shot at the Pit?" My buddies froze behind me. Dunn laughed, motioning me into the Pit.

"Go for it, dude!" he chuckled. I grabbed a SCAR-H and an M9, and waited for Dunn to reset the course. As the gate opened, I heard Allen and a few other guys yelling at me.

"Go!" shouted Dunn. I jumped forward, carefully taking down three targets positioned behind concrete walls. I moved forward, taking out two more targets. The building loomed into sight, and I crouched, not wanting to waste ammo. I cleared the roof and windows, dashing into the building. Three more targets presented themselves, and were quickly taken down. Reaching for my knife, I climbed the stairs. A target swung out, only to be cut down with my combat knife. Once the roof was clear, I launched myself over the edge, trying to take out as many targets as I could from the air. A light click reached my ears, and I cursed, realizing the foolishness of my mistake. Quickly grabbing my M9, I tried to move along, but the pistol was harder to aim, and I wasted precious seconds trying to line up the targets. The finish came into view, and I sprinted through, shooting wildly at the last two targets. With an almost savage yell, I slid over the line, sliding to a halt against the wall. I heard Dunn laughing as I stood, demanding my score.

"33 seconds, man. Not bad." he said, leaning against the wall and laughing. I could hear my buddies laughing and cheering as I threw my weapons aside. Allen jogged over, a reasonably calm look on his face.

"You did good, dude. The 141 just did way better." he said, fighting back a laugh.

"Fuck you, Allen."

Another A/N: Review, please?