No Pressure, Right?!

By Major Mike Powell III

"ROACH! Roach! Wake up!"

Yeah, Captain Mactavish, I can hear you, sir...damn! And I thought my Grandpa was grumpy in the mornings when he had to wake me up to go to school. Hell, the old geezer even dumped a bucket of ice-cold water on my head once.

So, hey guys. I'm Gary Sanderson. "Roach" just so happens to be my codename...and before you ask, yes: everybody in Task Force 141 picked their codenames using a random word generator on Google, Ok?

Thing is, it's like this: World War III has erupted, Russians are parachuting all over America and me and the rest of Task Force 141 are all the way South, in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil hunting down an arms dealer...and this place is an absolute hornet's nest, the nastiest, most unfriendly place on Earth. No wonder no tourists ever come to the favella, huh?

"We can see them from the chopper! They're coming for you, DOZENS of'em!"

Yeah, Ghost, I hear you, you British bloke! No pressure at all, right?! Damn!

Ok, so, there's basically a whole goddamn city coming after our asses...and my ass is still on the ground, while the Captain, Lt. Ghost and the rest of the crew are all safe and sound in the chopper of an old friend of Mactavish, some Ruskie named "Nikolai".

I fell off a rooftop, almost shattered my legs, and now, there's no pressure, right? I've just got dozens of pissed-off militias coming to riddle my Gringo ass with holes. Nice.

"Roach, we're circling the area but we can't see you! Find a way back to the rooftops!" Captain Mactavish is just about ready to burst my eardrums with his yelling in the radio.

That Scottish accent of his, though? Man, that's badass!

Anyway!

My legs hurt like Hell. My lungs burn like Hell. And it's friggin' hot as Hell down here on this part of the world. Brazil in Summer, eh? Anyway, I run like I've never run before through alleyways, up stairs, down stairs, bullets whizzing and hitting every spot of the ground I stepped on.

I'm in the shit, I don't even have a gun and the constant yelling of Captain Mactavish is NOT helping! Hell, I can't even throw my knife to save my life. Besides, mine is a good knife. I don't want to throw it away!

"Gas is VERY low! I MUST leave in thirty seconds!"

...Ohhh fuck me, man! Nikolai, mister, FUCK YOU and your low fuel!

"Roach! We're running on fumes here! Pick up the pace!"

Mactavish, sir, if I make it out of here, I'm SO gonna punch Nikolai in the face...and then, I'm gonna punch YOU in your ugly Scottish mug!

The Captain is just lucky my lungs burn, my throat is completely parched and dry and that I can't utter a single word in fear of breaking my vocal chords.

So, I just slide down a section of tiled roof and smash through a window. Ouch. That shit hurt! Damn!

And then, I step out into the last piece of rooftops and Nikolai's Pavelow helicopter pops up like a military hardware gift from the Heavens with the classic rope ladder hanging off the side, with Captain Mactavish with an M4 carbine in hand providing cover fire for me.

Ok, legs, I know you guys don't like me, but I love you very much, so please, PLEASE, just one final effort!

"JUMP FOR IT!" The Captain's scream rings in my ear and I think my earpiece just broke, and I do just that...

I feel as if my whole body's on fire. I'm drenched in sweat that will take a 2-hour ice-cold shower to wash off, my breath comes out in ragged gasps and pants...and I'm just about ready to kiss the metal floor of the cargo compartment of Nikolai's chopper.

Ghost is right by side, handing me a canteen full of liquid that I'm not exactly sure is actual water, yet I just chug it down to the last drop.

"Proper good job, mate!" Ghost, you fuckin' British bloke! That canteen was full of booze! You know I don't drink alcohol! Damn, this stuff is strong! His face is covered by that skull-painted balaclava mask of his...but I can tell he's got a cheeky grin. I just know it.

"Ok, Nikolai! Get us out of here!" Captain...that's music to my ears. Nikolai even chuckles when hearing my borderline-delirious laugh of utter joy and relief.

"Where to, my friend?" He asks.

"Just get us back to the sub..." And of course, the end of one mission just means the beginning of the next, huh?

Either way, sweet, cold-ass, 2-hour long shower, you've got my name on you.

I'm Sergeant Gary "Roach" Sanderson of Task Force 141...and for the record: Rio de Janeiro is the worst, most unfriendly place on Earth.

Achievement Unlocked: Tag'Em and Bag'Em

Yeah, here's a little one-shot for the final escape sequence in "The Hornet's Nest", 'cuz why the Hell not? :3 Yuri-chan, thank you for hearing me out so I could get this silly idea out of my head. o.o7

Semper-Fi! Carry on!