The Oil Under the Battle - by Alex Ratcliffe
A Call of Duty 4 FanFiction of the multiplayer experience
Pipeline
The flattened blades of grass beneath your chest mingle comfortably with the strips of burlap and jute attached to your suit. The earth is cold, but you barely notice the compact soil underneath the dry grass and padding provided by your ghillie suit. However, your left wrist is aching from holding the forend of the Remington 700 rifle in your grip. The stock, the scope and the barrel are all painted in woodland camouflage paint, but the matte finish and clean lines easily distinguish the weapon from the overgrown abundance you're laying in. In fact, the fabric of your suit is a shade darker than the greenery you are laying in, which seems drab and grey, the vitality washed away as if an artist had diluted his rich green paint. You can't help but wonder if this has something to do with the abandoned factory spread out in front of you.
Your own occupied bank of grass has a scenic view of two large buildings in front of it, with a third in the distance between them. What they did in those buildings was anyone's guess. They had the grey, rusted factory aesthetic with no visible interior decoration. Underneath this facility however, was a three and a half kilometer oil pipeline - maybe the factories were built to aid its construction. Whatever it was, though, was insignificant right now, as this place would shortly become a warzone. And only oil matters in war, remember? Something like that.
Movement flickered in the leftmost building, at a window facing the embankment. You recognise the shape of the helmet - you can't tell which one, but this is one of your fellow SAS comrades, watching behind you where your four man team approached the factory from. They're watching your back, and you're watching theirs.
A slight hiss in your left ear precedes the calm Scottish accent of Captain Stilson. "We're finished settin' the claymores in Structure 1. Movin' on to Structure 2."
Your eyes wander to the open ground between the two buildings, and to the small structure on the opposite end. The square windows were all blown out and cracked, and because an identical window was directly behind it on the rear wall, you could see right through it to the dull light of the sky beyond.
One of the corner window frames filled with darkness.
"Shit- Hold, Hold!" You grunt tensely through the microphone, trying not to move as you do so. "Contact. Hold your position." You are relieved that your voice now sounds much less panicked and jumpy.
Slowly, you raise the stock of the rifle to your face, and peer through your scope at the corner window. You just make out a black balaclava framed by broken glass. The figure pokes a barrel through the small window, then retracts it as much as possible, clearly oblivious to the fact that anyone was watching.
"Enemy Sniper in Structure 3, to the North", you announce, trying not to move your lips too much.
"Shit, already?" responds Stilson. "Ok, its safe to assume they're all 'ere then. They must've come from the North, and we don't have any claymores yet in Structure 2. Change'a plan - We'll circle aroun' the West side, and you, Greaves, can shoot from the out-house coverin the train tracks to the East. We'll force 'em into your firin' line. Nail the Sniper now and move out."
"Roger that." you say briskly. "Exit the building on my gunshot."
The southern embankment offers no bulletproof cover should the enemy sniper see you, whereas the top floor position of your target means he only has to stay away from the windows in the effort to evade your fire. If Structure 3 has a window on the West side, you also realise that the shooter could enjoy a perfect elevated firing line on your team if he was not dispatched properly. Therefore it is with great care that you cover the balaclava with your crosshair and exhale slowly. There is a comfortable point to hold the remaining breath that you like to take the shot with, which you have practised countless times on paper targets. The range is good, and there is no wind despite the mildly cold air.
There is a slight crack before the heavy boom that issues from your rifle, and you have time to hear both before a protruded shard of glass is torn from the snipers window. It does not allow you to doubt your shot though. The square fills with the light of the rear window once again and there is a slight red mist on the remaining glass around the edges, defining the window pane clearly against the others as the light shines through from behind.
From somewhere to the rear of Structure 2, the temporary silence was broken. You recognise the gunfire as the Heckler and Koch G36 carbines your team are carrying - and just for a few bursts, something else, similar to the classic AK47 but with smoother automation. With a jolt, you realise that you have work to do - attaining a shooting position to your right before the enemy can seize Structure 2. Hoisting yourself up, blades of grass falling from your Ghillie suit as you rise, you sling your rifle on your back and reach your hand to your hip. You try to unbutton a holster, but a stray tear of burlap has been trapped around the holster. You rip it off, cursing under your breath, and pull out a Beretta M9 Pistol as you clamber down the grassy slope. You aim for a tiny office seperated from Structure 2 to your right, which is built on the grass. Peering into the window, just to make sure, you slowly edge round it, so that you can see around the East wall of Structure 2. You look down a long path set against the second factory building. To the East of Structure 2, arranged haphazardly are several train carts which you can only partially see. No movement in sight, but a doorway 10 meters away on your right promises a much better view of the train tracks... and just as you are about to drop onto the concrete path, you freeze.
Three soldiers mantle themselves up onto the same path at the other end, past the far wall of Structure 2. One of them looks up the path, with a clear view of you about to drop onto it. Amazingly, they stack up against a metal wall, still oblivious to your presence. The grass backdrop behind you kept you camouflaged, despite being stood up in only shin- high grass.
The enemy unit peered around the metal cover, looking left, where they would have heard your teams' Assault Rifles. Two of them carried what appeared to be a sub-compact derivative of the AK, while the one who had missed you in plain sight was holding a shotgun. As his face turned left, looking for the SAS, you realise he is wearing a gas mask, not a ski mask like the rest of the team.
Moving slowly back a little, in case you have to take cover behind the tiny office, you plant your knee into the hard soil and take aim. Your job is to split them between your teammates coming from the East, around Structure 3 where a dead sniper lay, and yourself. The one with the shotgun didn't appear to be wearing body armour, which started you putting pressure on the trigger. A .308 bullet was released, and he went down, the bullet punching through his heart and sending a fine red spray to emerge on impact. You have caught the attention of the other two now, so you duck behind the office, just poking your hooded leafy head around to see the response. The remaining pair did not return fire up the pathway; they seemed to realize the distance was better suited to your rifle than their sub-machine guns. Unfortunately, however, instead of running towards Structure 3, where your team would take them down, they leapt back on the train tracks and out of your line of sight.
You need to inform the team. "Two taking cover in the train wrecks, Northeast. Can't see anymore yet." You explain breathlessly. A hushed voice replies "Copy, Greaves. We're behind Structure 3, get some fire down if possible."
That would mean moving into the doorway on the right, which you had been about to take a minute ago. Opposite this open doorway was another, going into the Structure 2 factory floor. If there was another entrance on the rear wall, an enemy soldier could come bursting out here any second. After some brief indecision, a course of action comes to you.
You unlatch a smoke grenade from your assault vest, and throw it onto the pathway, in case the surviving duo decide to get back on the path. Then, before you drop onto the pavement, you remove a claymore mine from your belt pouch. Jumping onto the concrete, and sprinting to the opposing doorways, you place the mine at the doorway to the factory. Pulling out your pistol once more, you turn around and head into the small room you originally intended to take. Two huge open windows without glass came between you and the train tracks, offering little cover if the enemy decided to smother the dark stone room with bullets. Smoke filled the left window, while the right offered a hazy white view of the perimeter wall. Another open doorway on the right of the windows allowed passage between the train tracks and the room, between the armed soldiers and you.
And it seemed this consideration was not lost on the two Russian Ultranationalists, who were moving along the perimeter wall to the stone room. Their figures were clear through the disappating smoke, and though they were still about 100 meters away, you could not let them come any closer. If they made it any further, the squad would not be able to engage them when they emerged, and they would make short work of you with their sub-machine guns. Without really aiming properly, you unload several rounds from your pistol over at them, the bullets crashing into the wall around the pair, forcing them to take cover. A small alcove on the perimeter wall afforded them this, but they returned fire almost immediately. You dive onto the floor in the middle of the room, bullets whizzing through the smoky windows and entrance and exploding onto the back wall. Fragments of stone and metal rain down on you, but you can't get up because of the huge windows. Pressing the microphone closer to your mouth, you scream hoarsely "Move onto the tracks! Now! Now!" When there is no immediate response, a pang of guilt hits you, because you don't know for sure that the pair firing on you are the last amidst the train wreck. But the gunshots are coming closer, they are firing on the move, shouldn't they need to reload about now? But no, these guys were likely ex- Spetsnaz, or so the intelligence suggests, and they would reload while the other was firing... and right then, you wonder why you should give a crap that these guys wanted to blow up their own country's oil pipeline... where the hell are the squad? There was only one option... you start to scrape your belly across the grimy floor, back towards the doorway... if you could get into the factory, they might run into your claymore... and as you poke your head around the empty door frame, you see your squadmates erupt from behind the far wall of Structure 2.
Three G36's started emptying at once. They fire dangerously close to the room your torso and legs are still in, and you hear more bullets clattering on the back wall of the stone room, until a blissful silence emerges. As the three assault rifles begin to lower, Captain Stilsons' suddenly jerkes in the direction of your face, peeking out of the doorway from the floor. Recognising what the green hood with the leafy shapes mean, he relaxes and announces "Tangos down. You two, sweep the carts. You alright, lad?"
Pulling yourself out of the door frame, you look back through into the room, and see a bullet-ridden body keeling over the window. "Fine", you mutter, a little embarrassed to have been found like that. "I'll tell you what, though, the Russian Military can defend the whole Pipeline from now on."
"They will, after this Ultranationalist attack. Dunno why we had ter deal with this 'un, actually, beyond the fact that it was our intel that uncovered the attack."
"It was supposed to be a six- man squad, did you take out two?" you inquire.
"Aye, laddie, but I need you to cover the Southern approach we took until the Russian soldiers arrive. They know our frequency, its all set up, so fire on any unannounced militia. I'll send Jonesy with ya in a minute- "
He was interrupted by Operational Control, who transmitted the message to the entire squad, instead of just Stilson as per usual. "Listen up, Bravo Two Niner. We're sending the Evac chopper early - the Russians are almost there anyway. Regroup and check your ammo. We're sending you to a vacant office block a mile West. You'll be briefed onboard, over and out."
Your look of concern is obviously noticed by the Captain, who says "Yeah, I know. But it mus' be important if they're deployin' us like this. This is the life we chose, son. Move to extract."