This is my FIRST Call of Duty story. Please, fellas, don't go WAY too hard on me. I'm still getting used to this, is all.
NOTE: This is a story that takes place before "Modern Warfare 2" and after "Operation Kingfisher". Also, in this fic, our homeboy Roach is Welsh.
One Thing Led To Another...
8:40 P.M., November 6, 2014.
Location: Somewhere in South America.
Sergeant "Roach" Sanderson is tough-to-kill son of a bitch; everyone knows it. You have to be one when you join the 141. The man has a reputation for being one of those "Silent types" you so often get in movies and video games. Very rarely do his teammates get to see him talk, save for one Simon "Ghost" Riley. The Lieutenant has a deep friendship with him, which no one in the 141 knows how long has been going on except for Captains MacTavish and Price. It didn't matter, anyway.
Lt. Riley just took Roach and Meat on a Search & Destroy mission on a compound full of drug-runners in a classified location in South America. They drove to the nearest town, named "San Victorio", to get something to eat while they waited for extraction. But the problem is...
"Where are we going to eat? My stomach's killing me!" Meat exclaimed.
"I don't know," replied Ghost "Roach, where do you want to eat?"
Roach just shrugged; he didn't care where exactly, he just wants something in his stomach.
"Hey, look!" Meat said, pointing to what looks like a Burger Joint.
"That place, eh? Alright then."
Ghost parked the rusted, bullet hole-laden 1984 Toyota Hilux he and his team "borrowed" from the drug runners in the nearest empty spot he could find. Meat is as excited as a Bungie fanboy on the day Halo 3 came out, but before he could get out of the vehicle, Ghost stopped him. "Hold on, mate. We have to leave all our equipment here, so we don't look suspicious." he said. Meat grumbled for a moment before complying. Ghost removed his khaki-colored bomber jacket, skull-patterned balaclava, and olive drab ballistic vest, leaving behind a white shirt and khaki pants. Meat removed his own vest and was now wearing a light-blue shirt and denim pants. And Roach...he already removed his; he was wearing a red shirt with a Hawaiian pattern on it.
They left their weapons in the truck. It was kind of hard to hide them, what with every one of them carrying assault rifles with a lot of accessories strapped onto them; but they pulled it off. Now, all they have to do is walk into the Burger Joint and take their orders. Before heading off to the counters, Ghost asked the two what they would have. Once he got his answer, he walked to the cashier "Um, hi." Ghost said in English, before switching to Portuguese (1) "I would like two Number 9's, a Number 8 Large, three Number 3's, some fries, two 24 oz. Sprites, and a Diet Coke."
The cashier, a young woman about twenty-five years old, asked him "Would that Diet Coke be the same size as the Sprites, sir?" Ghost nodded "yes" "Alright," the lady continued "two Number 9's, a Number 8 Large, three Number 3's, some fries, two 24 oz. Sprites, and one 24 oz. Diet Coke?"
"Yes, that would be it" he said.
As the lady read the orders over the fast food joint's intercom, Ghost looked over to his two teammates. Roach and Meat were sitting on the table closest to the main entrance/exit, watching the television as it played some music videos from the past decade or so. The one they're currently watching now is "International Love"
"Man, Chris Brown's got some mad dance skills..." Meat muttered.
Roach chuckled, but he didn't say anything; he was still watching the music channel at the moment.
"You don't talk much, do you?"
Roach nodded "no".
Before Meat could say another word, Ghost arrived holding a tray full of food. There were two burgers; one large burger; three salads; some fries; and three 24 oz. drinks in the tray. "Now this is what I'm talkin' about!" Meat exclaimed. "How much did you pay for this, Ghost?" "12 Reais we "borrowed" from our drug-dealin' friends, mate." he replied. Meat wasted no time chowing down on the burger-salad combo he ordered. In fact, the American looked like he could beat that guy in 'Man vs. Food'. "Um, Meat?" Ghost asked as he was about to bite his own burger.
"What?"
"Look around you..."
Meat looked around; he saw everyone staring at HIM. "What?" he asks in Portuguese "I haven't eaten breakfast yet!" Roach just chuckled, even though he didn't understand the language. Ghost smirked as he unwrapped the burger's covering. The security guard just glared at the operative, but Meat didn't notice.
Twenty-five minutes later, all three men came out of the fast food restaurant. "Man," Meat started as he sat on the truck's front passenger seat "I haven't eaten stuff like that in while!" "Yeah, well, when we get back to base, you're doing twenty push-ups!" Ghost replied, closing the door on his side. Roach got in without saying anything, again. "Alright, is everyone ready to go?" Ghost asked. The other two nodded. "Alright..." Ghost turned the key, and the Hilux came to life. Unfortunately, two women and a girl were behind the truck when it started; all three got a fistful of exhaust. One of the women started to hurl profanities at the three.
But Ghost wasn't listening...
"It's gonna take a lot to drag me awaaay from yooouu!" they sang, except for Roach, of course "There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever doooo! I PASSED THE RAINS DOWN IN AAFFRICAAA! IT'S GONNA TAKE SOME TIME TO DO THE THINGS WE NEVER HAA-HAAA-HAAAAD! WHOO-HOO!"
"Man, this song is brilliant stuff, innit?"
"You said it, Lieutenant! Hey, Roach! You okay back there?"
Roach nodded "yes".
As the pickup started to drive down the street, another pickup, this time one with many more bullet holes and full of twelve armed, scowling men, appeared from the side opposite Ghost's direction, and parked on the empty space left behind by Ghost & Friends. All disembarked as the engine died down. They were carrying an assortment of weaponry, from Kalashnikovs to Brazilian-made FALs, but no RPGs. A middle-aged man, presumably their leader, came out of the truck and ordered his men to "Find the filho da puta in the skull mask" that ruined his drug deal.
Two men went off to search the nearby market; another pair went to look in the church; three were scouring the streets; while the rest went with the man to the burger place. As they entered, the security guard frantically tried to get his weapon to bear.
*BANG*
He was shot dead by the man's own .38 in point blank. "Alright, you bitches!" he yelled "I want to know if any of you have seen a man in a skull-mask!"
Meanwhile, about seventy-five meters away, Ghost asked "Wait, did you guys hear that?"
"Hear what?" Meat asked.
"Gunshots"
"I did..."
Hold on...that wasn't Meat...
The two looked at Roach, now holding a 9mm pistol. "I think it came from the burger joint we just ate in." he calmly stated "Lieutenant, we'd better turn back. I think those drug-dealin' morons are at it again!" Roach handed Ghost his sand-stained balaclava and a suppressed L106A1. "Hey where's-" Roach gave Meat his pistol, a P99. "Thanks, but I was gonna ask for our rifles..."
"Later, Meat." Ghost said. "Right now we gotta go back, ASAP."
Ghost turned the radio off and slammed his feet hard on the brakes and smoothly executed a Bootleg turn on a crowded section of the street. Why? Because he's the goddamn Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley, that's why!
Ghost put on his balaclava, turning his then-serious look into the spitting image of Death himself, grinning on someone's misfortune. He started to load his pistol; releasing the slide shortly after. *CLICK* That was then he quipped:
"Let's do this..."
Okay, I was originally planning a one-shot, but you know...One Thing Led To Another. Hope you guys liked it!