ClusiveC

They, the 141

- Part I: Loose Ends, Tied -

Camrose, Alberta, Canada

May 17

Abel Loomis sat in the passenger seat of a small 4-door car, gazing out the window at the night time scene of street lights as they passed by them. He hadn't been looking forward to the recon assignment in Camrose, but the JTF2 felt that it was a necessary observation, so he really didn't have much of a choice. The damned city had a lot of farmland and open grounds with a small population, a nice place to live a relaxed lifestyle. Snowflakes fell and withered away, pasting the grassy terrain with a white makeover. This wasn't a job for the JTF2. They should've sent someone else instead. Abel shifted in his seat, trying to get comfortable as they passed by lonely buildings and milky street lights. He sighed, figuring that this little "stakeout" would be easy enough, and pulled the zipper up on his black hoody.

"We're gettin' close to the target building. Right on schedule." Briant Smith said as he turned the steering wheel of the car, heading down a street on the right.

"Yeah..." Abel said, sitting up in his seat. "I just hope this goes smoothly." Briant was the guy in charge for this run. He was a veteran in the Joint Task Force 2, seeing more action than most of the others. Abel liked the guy.

The car slowed down and came to a halt, and the motor sputtered away and turned off. They were parked in the shadows on the side of a long street, observing a hotel at the far end of the road. The streetlights cast an eerie glow across some of the road, illuminating the white snow and the dark night. It reminded Abel of the days when he was a young kid, riding around town at night with his mom and dozing off in the back seat of the car. Those were the good days, back when he had no responsibilities. Abel missed that era, sometimes.

"It's gonna be a minute before we get some activity." Briant said, checking the time on his wrist watch. "I'll go ahead and take first watch."

Abel was okay with that. He lifted the hood of his jacket, covering his head with it, and let the seat back a little bit. He closed his eyes and waited for the sleep to overtake him.

The scene reminded Abel of something that you see in a detective movie, where two guys go and wait outside a building for someone, and then start following that person. This situation wasn't much different from that. Abel was watching the hotel carefully. Over the time, several vehicles had come and gone, but they hadn't got sight of the target yet. He knew it was only a matter of time now.

Snow continued to pelt the windshield, melting away slowly. Other than the street lights, the road was only lit by the full moon in the sky overhead. Rats would cross the street, going about their little lives and crawling enthusiastically. Abel considered switching the radio on, but decided against it. There wasn't anything to listen to this time of night, and he wasn't sure what radio stations Camrose picked up anyway. Briant was snoring slightly in the driver seat, passed out completely. That was the only thing that Abel could hear right now. He stuck a piece of gum into his mouth and almost spat it out. It was mint flavor, and he hated mint flavor. He wadded the wrapper up and sat it in the middle of the cupholder. Abel glanced at the watch on his wrist, noting that it was nearly 0200.

The doors of the hotel opened up and Abel had a hard time seeing. He picked up the pair of binoculars off of the dashboard and eyed the man walking into the parking lot towards a waiting car, surrounded by several body guards.

"Briant." Abel said, still looking throught the binoculars. He waited 3 seconds before he realized that Briant was still asleep. "Briant." He said a little louder as he reached over and shoved him. Briant sat up, blinking rapidly and adjusting his eyesight. "Target confirmed." Abel muttered.

"Let me look." Briant said, reaching over and snatching the binoculars from Abel. He eyed through them for a few seconds. "Yep. That's definitely him. But where's the seller?" He asked.

They both heard footsteps approaching, fast, and reacted instantly. Abel glanced over his shoulder for a brief second but couldn't see anything. He reached for his sidearm but was already too late. The glass shattered as someone broke open the windows on both the driver and the passenger side. Glass flew through the tight space and Abel shielded his eyes. An arm reached in through the window, opening the door and sticking the barrel of a weapon in Abel's face. He couldn't see for shit, but he could hear some loud yelling. A big hand grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and hauled him out of the car, tossing him onto the thick snow and the ground.

He landed with a hard thud, immediately feeling the cold of the night time air and snow. A flashlight was shining right into his face, blinding his vision. He could barely make out that there was a handful of guys standing around the car, all of them carrying weapons. Abel was already considering his options when the attackers spoke.

"What do we do with 'em?" The one aiming his rifle at Abel asked. Abel's heart beat began to increase rapidly, thumping loudly in his chest.

"Kill that one. We're taking the other one with us." A voice said, crisp and cold.

There was a loud bang as they shot Briant on the opposite side of the car. For a second, he couldn't believe it. They'd been caught slipping, and Briant was already dead. Abel's heart skipped a beat and he looked up into the barrel of a rifle. He felt the sharp crack of the butt of the rifle and everything went black on him.

Gary "Roach" Sanderson sat in the situation room of the TF141 outpost located on a desolate island off the coast of the United Kingdom. Maps were posted all over the walls, marked with random X's and circles and other designations. Pictures of faces were hung up, displaying some of the world's most wanted terrorists and other criminals. Some of these faces were already X'ed out, like that of Makarov. But he was just a memory now. The boundaries had already shifted. The stakes had already risen even higher. It was a whole new ball game now, and Gary was familiarized with the rules. In the front of the room, Price was giving them an outline of what was going on. Some serious shit had happened not too long ago, and the 141 was locking onto the case.

"Either way, Joint Task Force 2 is calling for blood, but they don't have anybody to cut. Yet." Price said, flipping to the next slide on an onscreen presentation. "Briant Smith and Abel Loomis were running a routine op. Get in, confirm the targets, and figure out exactly what in the hell they were dealing with. Briant is dead, and Abel is MIA." Price told them, as the faces of two JTF2 operators appeared on the screen. They both looked reasonably fresh and young. Abel Loomis' picture had him showing a one sided smile.

"The targets - are these the phantoms we've been chasing?" Ghost asked. He was studying the screen carefully.

"That's what these two guys were trying to find out. Chances are pretty high that it's them. Either way, we're going to have a joint op to move in and extract the high value target - Thaddeus Ombridge." Price said as he flipped to another slide in the presentation. Gary looked at a picture of a short, balding man with a deep cut on his right cheek. "Thaddeus was the supplier for the transaction that happened that night. JTF2 was supposed to figure out what it was that he supplied, but that didn't go too well, and they lost two guys. So now it gets serious. Thaddeus has his own little private army, operating out of Yerevan, Armenia. Objective is simple. We go in, we get the target, we get out. His men are low-class, but don't let that make you sloppy. We leave tomorrow morning at 0500." Price said, snapping off the presentation and waiting for any questions. Gary relaxed in his seat and digested the information. Somebody somewhere was pulling some serious strings. This thing could get bigger than the deal with Makarov barely a year ago. They were behind on information, but that would cease to exist tomorrow. As long as they captured the Thaddeus guy. Mouths would have to be shut, questions would have to be asked, and faces would have to be marked out. Once again, the playing field was shifting and mobilizing on a monumental scale. And the TF141 would have to get with the program to stop this thing from exploding.

"You said this was a joint op. Who are we working with here?" Ghost asked Price.

"The 144 are finally taking an interest in this, but they're just the fall back force. We're taking some of their guys with us as a support role, in case things go sour. They won't be in the main assault, but they'll provide overwatch." Price told everybody in the room.

The Task Force 144 was much bigger than the 141, but they didn't like to get dirty. They usually took up those support roles, staying out of the main fray, but sticking close enough to be their in case someone needed them. Despite their large numbers, their group probably had the smallest track record out of all of them. Even 142 had more playtime out in the field. And they were nearly as small as the 141.

Gary stood up from his chair, stretching and loosening his muscles. The room smelled of grit and sweat, and he needed some fresh air. It was hot inside their. He walked out of the door and took a look down a long hallway that led outside. The walls were lined with doors and other dark rooms where stuff went down. The lights in the hall were straining to illuminate the interior, and some of them were flickering away. Gary never really liked the dark and gritty atmosphere of the 141 outpost on this island, but he usually ended up here more than any of the other posts. The outside was great, though. He walked down the hall, passing by another 141 operator on the way, and stepped outside.

A cool breeze from the ocean immediately revived Gary's mood. All around, the only thing you could see was water. Waves splashed onto the beach surrounding the compound, washing away sand and creating a constant background noise of splashing water. You could smell the freshness of it. The hot sun was battering down on him, but he didn't care. Not long ago, he'd spent weeks locked up inside a terrorist compound with no daylight, waiting for the rescue team. The sun was a beautiful friend to him now.

"So, wha 'dyou think?" Gary heard a voice ask him. He looked to his left and saw Rachel. He snapped out of his daydream.

"I've got a bad feeling about all of this." He said to her.

"You say that about everything." Rachel told him, looking up into his eyes. She had short black hair and dark blue eyes, with a small nose. And she was short.

"A JTF2 operator was killed. And they took one of the guys with them. I think this is going to get bigger than that stuff with Makarov, and I think it's more than one person." Gary said, looking off at the endless ocean. He could sit down and watch those waves crashing into shore all day long.

"What makes you think that?" She asked him. Her yellowish skin was bright in the sunlight. Gary thought for a second.

"It's just a feeling." He told her. That wasn't entirely true. He had some actual reasons to suspect that they were dealing with an array of guys. Mainly due to some things that had happened back when he was inside that compound for those three weeks. But for the most part, it was mostly just a feeling.

"Well, I'm going to get some rest." Rachel said. She walked away, heading to the barracks section of the compound. Gary watched her as she left until she was out of sight, and then found a large rock and sat on top of it. It was big and flat on the top, which was okay with him. Other times when he was here, he would sit on this rock at night and watch the sky. Over the time, he'd gotten used to sitting on it's hard surface. Plus, it was shaded by a tree. He relaxed on top of it, then he watched the ocean waves, always moving, never resting, and thought critically for a while. He hoped that he wasn't right, but either way, somebody had something up their sleeve. Two Canadian special forces guys, gone. One dead, one captured.

It was the Task Force's turn. It was their move. They had to play their cards right. Starting with tomorrow.