Alright everyone, since the writer's block on Zero and Zero is absolutely killing me, I decided to go ahead with that Modern Warfare idea. I hope getting my mind off the other story for a bit will help. Not sure if I will update anytime soon, my focus is still Zero and Zero.
Anyway, enjoy! RnR appreciated, as always. ;)
Six years, it's been six years since the mess started. Six years since Al-Asad set up the damn nuke, wiping out two Marine divisions, among them my squad. In the unit I was transferred to afterwards, I was known as the lucky bitch. And why is that? Because the only reason I wasn't killed in the explosion, was that I was medevac'd out of the area only about an hour before. It wasn't even that lucky, it was rather stupid. When our Humvee column came under attack, I jumped out from my seat on the passenger side but forgot to disconnect my helmet from the dashboard radio, so I got yanked back by the cable, hitting my head on a part of the Humvee, just below my helmet. I was knocked out and the next thing I know is seeing the corpsman that woke me up while I got carried to a Sea Knight for medevac, apparently I had a concussion and my lieutenant didn't want to risk more serious injuries.
After that I was out of the game. Since my entire unit was wiped out, I got transferred back to Camp Pendleton. Manpower was shortened, due to the first Marine Division being destroyed in the Middle East. As a result of this, every NCO or officer with the slightest bit of experience was reassigned to be an instructor for the mass of new recruits.
So I was promoted to Gunnery Sergeant, transferred to the Marine Corps School of Infantry and put in charge of a firing range. I spent four years there until I finally got transferred to a combat unit again, just in time to fight off the Russian invasion. After we helped the Army take back D.C. we were put on hold for a while to regroup. But soon after, we were transferred to Europe. And again we worked closely with the Army, when we took back Hamburg, Germany in a head-on full force assault.
When that was done, the war was over for us. A Delta Force unit led the final operation to end the war. And Makarov, the terrorist that started it all, was killed shortly later by a group of special forces operatives in a hinky solo operation. All that made it easy to fall back to an old goal of mine, getting into special forces. Altho I knew that wasn't possible since both Marsoc and Force Recon didn't accept women among their ranks. So I just went back to SoI, back to my range. And that's where we are now.
"Alright guys, all locked and loaded?" I ask the group of recruits on the firing range.
"Aye, Gunnery Sergeant!" Is the unified response.
"Good! Then pick your targets and fire, I want to see accuracy!" I yell at the group.
I watch them spend their ammo on the targets downrage, noticing they're way better than I was back in basic training. Then again, today every Marine rifle is equipped with an ACOG scope, making it so much easier to hit the target. I look around and notice my lieutenant walking towards me.
"Alright everyone, cease fire, officer on deck!" I yell at the recruits.
"Yo Gunny, how's it going?" Lieutenant Martinez says as he walks up to me and I briefly salute him.
"Oh you know, the usual. Teaching them how to shoot." I respond, motioning to the range.
"Well, I'll be taking over on that. You gotta report to command, Colonel Taylor wants you there." Martinez says.
"What does Taylor want from me?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
"I have no idea, all very secretive. Just head over there and see. The Humvee is waiting, I told him not to go yet so you can catch a ride." Martinez says and points back over his shoulder.
"Alright, thanks LT." I say, grab my stuff and head for the Humvee. After a few minutes' drive, we arrive at the command center, where Colonel Moore is waiting at the entrance. I walk up to him and salute dutifully.
"Ah, Gunny Mitchell, finally. Follow me!" Martinez says and leads the way through the command post and into his office.
"Sir may I ask what's going on here?" I ask him after closing the door.
"You're being transferred Gunny." He says after sitting down behind his desk.
"Sir?" I ask, slightly confused, since transfers usually come with some advanced warning.
"Yes I know it's short notice, but it is necessary today, there's an Osprey from MCAS New River waiting on the tarmac." Taylor says.
"What? Where am I going? What the hell is going on?" I ask, getting somewhat angry.
"Calm down Gunny. It'll all be explained to you, right now it's classified." Moore says.
"So let me get this right Colonel, I'm am going somewhere, but you can't tell me where that is?" I ask
"Yes." He says.
"That's fun. But total bullshit." I simply say.
"I don't care. You're expected at the airfield within 30 minutes." Moore says, with a hint of finality in his voice.
I simply sigh and stand up, saluting him once again and leaving the room. I quickly make my way to the barracks, going into my room to pack up my stuff. I didn't bring much to begin with, but a few personal belongings and clothes were there that I wanted to take with me.
So here I am, equipped with a backpack and a duffle bag, making my way to the Air Station, spotting the only Osprey on the base from far away. Its engines apparently running already, cause I could see the heat haze around them.
I walk up to one of the crewmen standing near the open rear ramp. "Hey chief, where we headed?" I ask him.
"Gunnery Sergeant Mitchell I take it? Going to Edwards first, from there I have no idea; you're the air forces problem then. Now come on, board up, we're leaving." The guy says and waves me into the plane.
I walk in and notice another guy sitting on one of the benches already, but he is sleeping. I sit down and the officer that greeted me walks past and into the cockpit. The ramp closes with a buzz and it instantly gets darker inside the Osprey, the only light coming from the four small windows and the door to the cockpit.
"How long will we be in the air chief?" I ask the pilot.
"Only about an hour Gunny, it's not that far to Edwards." He responds while I hear the engines getting louder as we prepare for take-off.
"Who's this guy, anyway?" I ask, referring to the soldier snoring in the corner.
"I have no idea, he wouldn't tell me, some SOCOM dude." The pilot says and then stops talking to me as he gets on the radio to get permission to start.
"Alright, we got permission, let's hit it." The pilot says and the Osprey starts lifting off the tarmac. I lean back and close my eyes, intent on taking a little nap.
"Wake up Marine!" Someone says while tapping my shoulder. I open my eyes and see the soldier has finally woken up, he's wearing sunglasses, so it's hard to read him.
"Why?" I ask.
"We're here, gotta get off the plane." He says and walks towards the opening ramp. I stand up, stretch, grab my gear and follow him out, where we are approached by someone.
"Sergeants Mitchell and Westbrook?" He asks in an obvious British accent.
"Yes." The soldier and I both respond.
"Good, you're the last pair that was missing. Please, step over to the group there, we're just waiting for our transport." He says.
"Where are we going?" Westbrook asks.
"You will all be briefed in flight." The British soldier says.
I join Westbrook when we walk over to the group of about ten soldiers, all dressed in various camouflage clothing, suggesting it's an international group.
"What army unit are you from?" I ask Westbrook.
He looks over at me and I see him raise an eyebrow.
"Oh come on, get over yourself you Spec-Ops douchebag, it's not like I'm some civilian!" I rant at him.
"Alright, alright, don't get your panties in a bunch Marine. I'm Delta Force." Westbrook says, raising his hands defensively. "Where are you coming from?" He asks.
"Alpha Company, Second Battalion, First Marines." I say.
"First Marines? Wasn't that regiment annihilated in the Middle East?" Westbrook asks.
"It was. We're in the middle of re-recruiting at the moment. I was assigned to training." I respond.
"Well, not anymore I guess. I'm still curious about where we are going." Westbrook says as we arrive at the group of soldiers.
I talk a bit with some of them, realizing they're coming from all over the place. All branches of the US military, a few Canadians and even an Australian.
Everyone turns around as we hear a plane approaching, watching a Gulfstream C-37 roll towards us.
"A fucking Gulfstream? Aren't they used for executive transports? What the hell is going on?" I ask loudly, causing some of the others to laugh.
"Calm down. It's one of the few planes in the Air Force arsenal that can make a transatlantic flight without in-flight refueling. I'm guessing we're going to Europe." An air force guy explains.
"Exactly, now please, board the plane." The Brit says again.
There's more chatting as we board the plane, finding seats and settling in for a long flight. Nothing major happens until we're in the air for a few minutes, when the British soldier walks to the front of the passenger cabin.
"Alright everyone, listen up!" he yells and waits for silence in the plane. "Okay. As I know you are all wondering about what's going on. And now I'm finally in a position to tell you. First of all, you can call me Archer, more on that later. Our flight is taking us to RAF Credenhill." He says.
"Isn't that were the SAS is stationed?" One of the Canadians asks.
"It was. Now, of course you won't be joining the SAS and you won't work with the SAS either. Credenhill is now the home of Task Force 141." Archer says, causing exciting whispering to break out in the plane.
"Calm down, please. Listen!" Archer speaks up, causing everyone to shut up again. "Thank you. Now, as some of you may or may not know, 141 was largely destroyed and disavowed during World War Three. But of course, our commanding officer Captain, now Major, Price killed big-shot Makarov, re-establishing the 141. And now we're responsible for major anti-terrorism operations all over the world. Of course, we need to find new members, since at the moment, there's only four of us, supported by a couple of Navy Seals and SAS operators assigned to us when the need arises." He continues, everybody still listening with interest.
"Of course, that poses a problem. Because we're an international force, we don't have jurisdiction problems that the Seals and the SAS have, especially when operating in NATO countries. Now, on to the selection process; every one of you will have to run a training course with random equipment. After that, you will have an interview with the CO, who will determine if you're staying or taking the next flight back to the States. That's it for now gentlemen….and lady, have a nice flight." Archers says and walks into the cockpit.
"Well, that was a bomb-drop." Westbrook says next to me.
"Yeah, no kidding." I answer. "I guess there's nothing to do now. I'll take another nap, do me a favor, wake me up in an hour or so?" I ask.
"Sure, go ahead!" Westbrook says and grabs a book from his bag.
I lean my seat back a little and close my eyes, drifting off to sleep soon. I wake up a while after, shifting slightly, I noticed I slumped against Westbrooks shoulder, who is also sleeping.
"Oh fuck!" I curse and shoot up, setting up straight.
"What's with the noise?" Westbrook says, woken up from my curse.
"Sorry man, I fell asleep." I say.
"I noticed, yeah. Looked like you were comfortable." He says with a grin.
I find myself blushing, actually blushing, I think I haven't done that in years. I look away, reaching into my bag for my iPod to distract myself. I quickly slump back to sleep with the music in my ears.
The next time I wake up, is when Westbrook is shaking me again, telling me to wake up.
"Come on Gunny, wake the fuck up, we're landing!" He rants while lightly slapping my shoulder.
"Alright, alright, I'm up! Stop hitting me, Spec-Ops douche!" I say with a smirk, half-opening my eyes to see his reaction.
"Tough words, coming from a simple Marine grunt." He says, trying not to laugh.
"All joking aside for a second Westbrook, care to give me first name? I hate being so formal with people I'm possible working with for a while." I say.
"Alright, It's Derek, altho I'm mostly referred to by my call sign, Frost." He answers.
"Frost, huh? And that British dude is calling himself Archer, guess I'll have to come up with a fancy nickname too." I say.
"How about Breeze? We'll be a frosty breeze." Frost says with a childish grin on his face.
I laugh at this, responding "You know, Breeze sound half-bad. But you better can the frosty breeze bullshit Sarge."
We do some more idle chatting before we are told to put on our seatbelts for the landing. We sit up straight and strap in before the plane smoothly hits the runway. The seatbelt is turned off and everyone is standing up, stretching tired limbs and collecting gear before staggering out of the plane, where some officers are waiting. The group falls into two lines in front of them and waits for instructions. The oldest of the officers is stepping up and takes the cigar out of his mouth.
"Welcome to Credenhill gentlemen" I ignore the fact that he didn't say anything about ladies, I'm used to it "I'm Major Price, commanding officer of Task Force 141. You will run the training course in the morning, I expect you all to pass it, it's what you're here for, after all. Now, follow Toad here…" he points to the officer standing next to him "…he will show you the barracks. Dismissed!" Price says and turns around to walk away.
"Alright everybody, follow me! The barracks are over there, each one of you will be receiving a separate room, meals are served at the mess hall, showers are taken in the barracks bathroom. The rest of the base will be shown to you in the morning after the course." The soldier, apparently called "Toad" explains as he leads us to a group of buildings. "Now, pick yourself a bunk and make yourselves at home, at least until the morning. Good luck!" Toad says and splits away from the group.
Everybody stands around a bit unsure of what to make of this, until the first guys pick their rooms inside the large building. I follow suit and take one of the rooms near the end of the corridor. I notice Frost taking the room next to me.
"See you in the morning, Gunny!" he says and walks into his room.
I do the same and enter my room, equipped with only a bed, a dresser and table with a chair. "Well, it'll have to do. Now on to fight the jetlag." I say to myself as I just drop my bags and drop myself on the bed, kinda excited for the course in the morning.