REPOSTED DUE TO SELF CONFIDENCE ISSUES

Author's note: Credits to (First and foremost) Infinity Ward for the awesome game of Modern Warfare 2 (GOOD TIMES) and Kiyohiko Azuma for Azumanga Daioh (Think different.) Also, to Anime Borat, who helped me find a good starting point (Which means he basically wrote this chapter for me), Fanfiction dot net, for giving me a place to post these things, and to Private Ramirez, for typing all of this after I asked Sergeant Foley for help! YOU GUYS ALL ROCK! (End lighthearted A/N, begin semiserious or not story)


The darkened conference room gave off an eerie air as two men sat across from each other, casually playing a game of chess to provide a distraction from the grim seriousness of their talk. One man, the one with the white pieces, moved his queen over the board, taking the black's remaining bishop.

"I assure you, Mr. Prime Minister," he said, his Japanese nearly flawless in its formality, but accented heavily, "the American troops you house within your borders will never save your country from extermination should you choose to keep them there. Think of your people... how many will be killed once our soldiers run out of Americans to butcher?"

Springing a rook from the opposite side of the board, one that appeared to be besieging the white king, the other man knocked the queen over.

"The United States is our ally, ambassador. Even as we speak, their numbers in the country are growing, and will continue to grow. IF what you said was true, about them not being able to help us, in what way would you fear them amassing here?"

Stepping a pawn up the board, the other man leaned back, having set his trap.

"They are not amassed yet. And they never will if we launch an attack. You have my word that as long as you don't enable those terrorists to gather on your little mountain strip and use it to see our shores, not one Japanese citizen will be harmed."

"I am well aware of the Zakhaev Intl attack, Chernov." Using the same rook, the Prime Minister struck at the pawn that now had his king in check. "The most lethal terrorist attack since the September 11th bombings... but I have sources that tell me it was not an American's work. There were two Russian bodies found on the tarmac. In addition, the American body was found by the Russian FSB dead from a 9mm to the chest, and a cartridge casing was recovered from the scene. However, none of the officers that found him fired the shot, and no 9mm pistol was found. That rules out suicide, doesn't it?"

"Listen to me, Mr. Prime Minister!" 'Chernov' spat, slamming a bishop down on top of the rook and sending it off the table, "I lost my SON in that attack, and I was told by my superiors that it was an AMERICAN who killed him! We WILL have our vengeance! You are standing in the way of a Russian knight, and if you do not step aside, we will run our spear THROUGH you to get it!"

Chernov's overzealous move cost him dearly. The Prime Minister moved his queen out from its lesser-noticed hiding place and set it gently down at a diagonal to the white king. The rook and bishop were placed just so, trapping it in checkmate.

"The Russians can not even play a decent game of chess any more. Regards to your son, Chernov, but I am not going to abandon our ally. My judgement is not clouded by vengeance, and I know where I stand. It took the Americans four years to even reach Japanese soil."

He leaned over the table. "I dare you to do better."


"General Shepherd! Captain Mactavish!" The Interpol Colonel, Webster, stood at attention to the two very important individuals who had just stepped through the door of the killhouse observation deck. "It's an honor to have you here, sirs!"

"At ease, Colonel, and show me what you've got." Shepherd wasted no time in getting to business, and after shaking the Colonel's hand, motioned. for Mactavish to take an empty seat next to him, even though he himself remained standing. Mactavish looked unkempt himself, his beard unshaven after a stint in the mountains.

"Colonel Webster, this is Sergeant Sanderson," he said, gesturing to the larger man that was still standing at attention at the door, "considering that we're pulling an enlisted man from your unit, we brought along our best SE representative. And, frankly, one of the best soldiers in the Task Force itself."

"At ease, Sergeant." Webster grinned, reaching to shake his hand. "I hear you guys had a hell of a time up in the Tian Shan."

"You don't know the half of it, sir."

"Can we move along, gentlemen?" Shepherd said impatiently. Throwing up his hands in mock disgust, Webster growled.

"Fine, fine, don't let my hospitality keep you!" He pushed a button on the intercom. "Lieutenant, who were the best average runs..."

"I want to see them all. We're not looking for a textbook 'best' here. If I wanted that, I would've just gone through the records or gotten a computer to do it. What do you think 'handpicked' means?"

"Right... Lieutenant, start out with Adrian and work your way down." Pulling out the first file, he passed it to the General. "Carl Adrian's an American. Birthplace, Denver. Aged 42, level-headed under pressure, but not so much for paperwork.

A buzzer went off, and the man ran out with an M4 Carbine. His stances and motions were perfect and seamless, and he dropped targets with unrelenting precision, but when he finished, Shepherd shook his head almost instantly.

"Too stiff, and his shot placement on the targets was spotty."

Mactavish seconded that notion, as did Sanderson.

The list ground down through the unit's 32 members until they hit 'T.'

"Takino Tomo, sir, one of four females in the unit. Aged 23, born in Tokyo."

Mactavish looked over the file, "Newest member... I don't know, sir. We should probably skip this one."

"Private Allen was the newest member of the 75th, Soap. YOU were the newest member of the SAS when I pulled your butt to Captain. Don't forget that."

"Right..." At the mention of his old nickname, Mactavish gave way.

"All right, the big show this time!" Tomo murmured to herself, feeling the adrenalin start coursing through her veins, holding her Type 89 rifle upward one handed. "C'mon, baby, hit that buzzer! Let's show this Shepherd guy just who he's dealing with!"

"Calm down, Takino." Lieutenant Schuster said over the loudspeaker, "He's docked people for offenses the books never even mentioned! Just calm down and remember your training."

"You don't know how ironic that sounds from here, man! Just hit the buzzer already!"

"Fine."

TZZT

Bolting from the gate, Tomo almost instantly dropped the first two targets, and barreling around the corner, the three that followed. In a flash, her combat knife was out and through the neck of the 'screamer' target through the next doorway. Then, she brought up the rifle to slaughter the next group of targets... when the bolt closed on the empty cartridge casing. A stovepipe she had no time to clear.

Thinking on her feet, she lunged at the first of the five targets, driving the butt of the gun through it. Then, she tore the second from the ground and stabbed the stake through the third one, and in one fluid motion, flashed her knife across the neck of the fourth target, spun and drew her pistol, and plugged a round into the nose of the last one. The buzzer sounded once again.

"Hoo, boy, that was a close one, wasn't it, Schuster?" She turned around to face the booth. "Uh... Schuster?"


In the crows' nest, there was a stunned silence. The ninja-esque reflexes of Takino had caught all involved completely off their guard.

"That... was a little flashy, wasn't it?" Mactavish said weakly, once he'd picked up his jaw off the floor. "Surely, you're not going to pick her, sir?"

"Captain Mactavish, this girl embodies the very qualities I'm looking for." Shepherd reprimanded. "In addition to running the course the textbook 'best,' Takino has proven that she's capable of improvising and getting the job done."

"Sir, she was just supposed to draw her pistol at that point. She was just showing off."

"To the contrary, I personally loaded each of their magazines so that the one round they would use once they got to that point would have less powder. The round would not eject properly, causing them to stovepipe. That's why every operative had the textbook response of taking cover and slowing their time by drawing a sidearm or clearing the jam. Maybe it was flashy, but it got the job done, and that's what we need in the 141."

"Should I run you through the rest of them, sir?" Webster asked.

"Negative, Colonel. Tell Takino she had thirty-six hours to pack her bags and show up at Narita. Unless Roach here has any objections?"

"No, sir. I look forward to working with the lady, sir."

Defeated, Mactavish grinned weakly. "Roach, you just got bumped down on my 'to promote' list, you know."

"Duly noted, sir."


"Welcome to Virginia, Miss Mihama," Corporal Dunn spat, turning the Humvee down a street that Chiyo hadn't noticed. "And welcome to BEAUTIFUL Arcadia, where the Rangers run around all day preparing for the gigantic purple elephant to come barging through their door. If you'll look to your left, you'll see two more almost-unarmored Humvees JUST LIKE ours, except they DON'T get miniguns on the roof like we do, and on your right..."

"Shut up, Corporal! You're giving me a headache!" Sergeant Foley yelled, "Overlord, be advised, we are entering Arcadia with Falcon, how copy, over?"

Chiyo hadn't asked any questions or, in fact, even spoken since she'd first been pulled from the university. Since she was the daughter of an ambassador, she was probably getting the special treatment at his request, but she knew that some of the soldiers felt bitterly about being cab drivers and babysitters for a 16-year-old girl, and she didn't want to annoy the already-stressed-out men that were working to keep her safe.

"Hey, kid?" one of the other soldiers in the car asked, handing forward a cell phone, "I've got a couple of arcade games on this thing, if you're bored."

"Huh? Oh, no thanks, I'm OK... but would you let me use the phone to call my dad? He's probably worried sick about me."

"Go right on ahead."

"Yeah, Ramirez, aren't you the good cop?" Dunn muttered under his breath.

"Corporal, shut your mouth!"

Grumbling incoherently to himself, the Corporal scrunched up his nose and kept driving, when another Humvee, cut him off at full speed, causing him to slam on the brakes. The group of Marines, distinguishable by their deep green MARPAT uniforms (As opposed to the ACUs the Rangers were using) in the offending vehicle all started hollering at them.

"Hey! Watch where you're fucking going!" Corporal Dunn screamed, flipping the road finger. "Marines. Cocky bastards."

Ignoring him, Chiyo shakily opened the phone to dial the number as their Humvee joined a convoy as the second position. However, the phone had no service.Weird, it had three bars a few secconds ago...

Foley put his hand to his ear. "Say again, Overlord... roger that, we're diverting now. Dunn, Ramirez, change in plans."

"Change in plans... for..." Everyone in the Humvee looked up to see the Russian transports begin unloading paratroopers into the city. The gunner spun up the turret, muttering a curse under his breath.

"Overlord, we have visuals. It's not pretty. What should we do with Falcon, over? ...Understood, we're oscar mike, out." Foley looked over the seat. "Kid, we're getting you on a helicopter once we get into Nate's, along with another HVI, got it? Just listen to whatever the soldiers tell you to do and you'll be just fine."

"OK..." Chiyo said nervously, fixed on the soldiers coming down from the sky.

"Baker, heads up! Man making landfall on that rooftop!"

"Target acquired." The Russian that came down on the roof of the house ahead was torn apart by the Humvee's minigun. Chiyo knew she'd be sick later.

"Easy, kid. You'll be all right. Just..." Ramirez's comforting words were cut short as he saw the BTR pull in front of their lead car. "Look OUT!"

"BTR! Get out of the vehicle!"

Foley threw open the side doors, grabbing Chiyo by her collar and pulling her out behind a house so quickly that all she saw was a blur of red and black as the Humvee she was just sitting in went off like a firecracker.

"Ramirez, what've we got?" The Sergeant asked, drawing his pistol and racking the slide, handing it to the young girl. "Last resort ONLY, Falcon."

"Sir, our lead Humvee's dead, along with Baker. Number Three's doubling back and taking a different route to the restaurant."

"They're... dead?" Chiyo couldn't understand what was going on at all. The pistol was almost too large for her hands, and she wasn't even fully sure how to use it... or even if she could to save her life.

"It's war, kid." Foley growled, pulling the charging handle on his M4. "Ramirez, on point. Dunn, if you let ANYTHING happen to Falcon, I will use your eyeballs as fish bait, understood?"

"Sir!"


A/N: Will reupload following chapters over the course of the week.