A/N: Just going to say this once again, not everything is going to happen exactly as it did in the game. Just bear with me, and enjoy the story! Thanks to everyone who's checked it out so far!
Chapter 2: She's a Soldier?
By the time I decided I should probably get up, Price and Yuri were already awake. Soap, bandaged in multiple places on his body, was still asleep on the floor of the helicopter, and not looking good. He was bandaged in multiple places, and his breath was heaving and raspy. I rose slowly to my feet, wary of my bandaged stomach. It was a little sore, but it didn't hurt too bad.
If you thought about it, it was really amazing how we managed to sleep at all. The constant beating of the helicopter blades was enough to keep anyone awake, but I guess these guys were used to it. I had been exhausted enough to sleep through a nuclear bomb.
I quickly checked my pockets. Both my inhalers were still there. Price was sitting across from me next to Yuri, about ten or so feet away. They were talking to each other, keeping their voices low.
Price nodded at me, standing up in his chair.
"Do you mind if I take a look at your stomach? The damage is minimal, the bullet only grazed you. You got lucky this time..."
I nodded, biting my lip. Price wasn't bad looking, but his face was worn from years of being a soldier. He had a mustache and a thick, yet short beard. He wasn't real tall, he was actually shorter than me, which really wasn't unusual.. I had always been tall for my age. He stood at about 5'7" or so, and walked with a long stride. His voice was rough, just as Yuri's was.
He too had a worn face, obviously a soldier for a long time. He was a bit taller, around my height. His head was shaven, and he had a super thick Russian accent, even thicker than Nikolai's. Both men, and Soap, were all older than me.
He lifted my shirt, carefully removing the bandages from my stomach to reveal a long, narrow blotchy red scab that ran about halfway across my stomach.
"I'm no doctor," he said, grimacing a bit, "But it isn't too deep, and I don't think it's infected yet. We have some medicine you can take to make sure it doesn't start festering. I'll replace your bandages, unless you'd rather do it yourself."
I looked at him, trying to appear confident and strong-willing. "I can do it."
My voice was a bit hoarse, but I don't think I sounded as nervous as I felt. He handed me a roll of bandages and a pair of scissors. I had done this multiple times for patients.
"We'll be landing soon Price, and we've gotta get Soap to professional medical help. We have almost nothing to help him in here... You should just tell her straight up. Give her the option now," Yuri said from his chair, looking down at Soap with a grimace.
Price looked at me. "He's right. Look, I want to ask you something. What was your name again?"
I thought back to what they had been discussing last night. Oh boy.
"Petral. Petral Levark." I snipped off a bandage from the roll and began wrapping my stomach in it.
He nodded. "You showed quite the signs of a good soldier back at the safehouse. My men and I could all see that you knew how and when to make a quick decision. This is what we need in a soldier...and we've been growing desperate. I only want to do one thing, and that's kill Makarov. I'm giving you the option to join us, Petral Levark. You seem to know how to handle a gun, and with some instruction from me, you'll know how to handle one better. What do you say?"
I looked right at him, taking a few steady breaths. What did I say to that? I think the answer came to me pretty quickly then. Because that's when the awful memories started again.
Getting off the airplane in Afghanistan. Walking down towards the desk. The young man, holding a stack of letters, one for me. One saying that my home in New York city had been blown to shreds, not long after I departed. The letter that told me that my parents had been blown to shreds right along with it.
So I said yes. Because it was all in the name, that name. Vladimir Makarov.
Price told me that normally, he wouldn't just pick up soldiers like he did me. But he was desperate. Yuri agreed, if somewhat begrudgingly, and Soap did too, who had finally awoken and was listening to Price and I talk. And I could see it in his eyes. That look that the other two men didn't have. He wanted Makarov dead as much as I did, possibly more.
Price studied me, then held out his hand. "I'm Captain John Price, leader of the now disavowed Task Force 141. I hope that you'll fight well, Sergeant Levark."
I nodded, taking his hand and shaking it respectfully. "Thank you, Captain."
Not meeting my eyes, Yuri walked over and shook my hand. "Yuri. Welcome to the team."
I gave him a small smile. "Thank you."
"This here is John MacTavish." Price continued, gesturing to the broken soldier lying on the ground . "But we call him Soap. I'm hoping we can get him to proper medical safety in time...I don't know how long he's going to last. He's a strong bastard, but his arm is broken, and he's been losing so much blood from the stab wound in his chest..."
My mouth fell open. "Stab wound?"
His face was grim. "Yeah. He killed the bastard that stabbed him...bloody hero, he is..."
His voice trailed off, his eyes wandering for a moment. I wondered what had happened, but I knew this wasn't the greatest time to ask.
"Nikolai Belinkski is operating our helicopter. Now look. We could be seeing some really heavy action tomorrow, and I want to show you basic gun setup. Don't get yourself get killed, and if you don't feel confident enough, don't shoot. Don't get in anyone's way."
Don't get myself killed? I'd try my best.
"God, I feel like a bloody fool doing this, but I have a feeling I can count on you Levark. Tell me now, what triggers your asthma?"
I grimaced. "Nothing in particular, my attacks usually occur between three and four days apart. I'm almost certain I won't get one by tomorrow... I know I'm no SAS troop, sir, but I don't think I'd slow you and your team down."
Price nodded back. "Good. And don't call me sir, Levark...my men and I are long past that..."
Yuri gave a gruff laugh, still staring grimly at Soap.
I smiled. "Right. Okay. When can I start?"
Price turned to Yuri. "What did I tell you? We're about to face heavy bloody fire, and this girl wants to jump right in. This is what I like in a soldier."
I looked down, a bit flattered, not sure what to say
"Here's what you're gonna do, Levark. We have next to no medical supplies here on the chopper, but we're heading to a safehouse in India, and I want you to treat him with whatever you've got, you understand?"
I nodded firmly. "Yes."
"Alright." Price carried over a medium-sized sub-machine gun and handed it to me. "I can't say if I know what's going to happen once we reach India...I'm almost positive we'll be facing Russian forces once we arrive, and I want you to learn how to use one of these until we can transport you to safety, so listen up close."
I nodded again. I could do this.
"This is an Ak-47. Got it so far?"
I nodded. It was heavy, but I could lift it.
"Good. Now listen closely..."
He went into the details of it, showing me how to load and unload, and the correct way to pull the trigger when it was unloaded. It wasn't overly difficult to handle, and I was able to remember everything. He had me load and unload it seven times in a row as fast as I could, and soon it almost became muscle memory for me.
He also showed me the correct way to hold an aim a pistol, and how to load and unload it. We couldn't practice firing since we were on a helicopter, but honestly, I felt confident in myself.
Price did too, which helped so much. Yuri still refused to look at me, and I knew he still didn't approve of me joining the team. But really, who would? I was no troop. I had experience in the military, but that was only because I was a doctor. I had quick reflexes, and I was a fairly quick learner, but I was no troop. I figured I was the disposable one in the group here, the one who's death wouldn't be something to stress over if I did die. And anyway, if I didn't die by tomorrow, I'd be off by the end of the week.
We spent the rest of the day in the helicopter, going over different weapon techniques and the technicalities of different guns. Unloadoing, reloading, trigger pull, aim. We stopped that night, after taking a lunch break of some bread and water. Yuri had fallen asleep next to Soap.
Price looked at me, hard and serious. "Now look, Levark. I'm only giving you this option because I'm desperate, you understand? Two years ago, I'd think myself to be bloody fool to let an undertrained, low-experience soldier join my ranks. You showed wit back there in the safehouse, wit and quick-thinking. And that's what I need my men to be like. But this is an option for you! And I'm not guaranteeing you'll make it out alive, you got that?"
I looked at him, keeping my expression calm and unbending. Price gave it to me as it was. He was telling to truth, and I knew it. I understood. But I wanted to prove myself. I wanted to save a life. And in this case, I could save the soldier laying on the ground, with a barely contained stab wound in his chest. Captain John "Soap" MacTavish needed help. I didn't know that man, not at all, but he was a soldier, a soldier defending our world and putting his life at risk to save everyone else's.
And he wasn't looking so good right now, and the three of us weren't sure if he'd even make it 'till morning.
"I understand. And I want to help. You guys are soldiers, right? Don't you risk your lives all the time to make sure all of us live? Has anyone ever given back to you? Price, I have nothing to go back to, and nothing more to lose. Makarov killed my family in New York city."
How did I managed to say that without breaking down and sobbing, or wanting to scream and pull out my hair? I imagined telling someone one day, about my family, and just ending up in a mental hospital. But surprisingly, I was able to say it without breaking down. Without falling apart.
Price didn't anything. He studied me respectfully, and I could tell we both reached an agreement. We both had one thing in common now...we hated Makarov. And if nothing else, this would at least give him somewhat of a comfort. I hated Makarov, and he did too. I didn't know this man with the bright blue eyes, and the bushy beard and mustache, but I knew that saving his friend and ally's life would be one step towards his and my goal.
"We'll be arriving in India the day after tomorrow...and I'm bloody praying Soap'll be strong enough to hold off till then. Yuri was able to get some water into him, but he's getting weaker, and that wound in his chest is close to getting infected. We'll have all the medical supplies we'll need down at the safehouse, enough so you and any other doctor's that might be there can treat him before Russian forces arrive."
I nodded. I hoped so too.
I fell asleep pretty quickly that night. Our primary staple of food on the helicopter was bread. There was a lot of it, but most of it was half-way stale. But for whatever reason, I was exhausted and the blades of the helicopter whirling was almost soothing.
The next day on the chopper wasn't real eventful. Soap woke up, and we coaxed some water and small pieces of bread into him. He had trouble swallowing, and he could barely speak.
"We'll be there soon Soap. Just hang in there. This lady's going to help us."
He turned his head slowly to where I kneeled beside him. He gave me a small smile.
"Mmh. Well, at least she's hot." he croaked, grinning widely now.
I couldn't help it. I laughed, blushing just a little.
Price glared at him. "Watch your bloody mouth Soap, you're not fifteen."
But he tried not to crack a smile as he said it.
Price and I spent the rest of the day going over positions, and he showed me how to work this small machine pistol, unloading, loading, and trigger pull. Same stuff as before. We spent most of our free time wandering around the tiny helicopter, stretching our legs, and nibbling on bread and cheese. At around eight o'clock that night, Price sat down with Yuri and me.
"We've gone over this. You guys know what to do?" he asked gravely.
I nodded. We'd gone over this multiple times. We'd both grab Soap and move him directly into the safehouse. There, I'd treat him with whatever I could find, hopefully with the help of other doctors, if they were there. We had to do it fast, because Russian troops were expected to be closing in soon. We'd have to fight out way out, and somehow push through the line of troops.
Sounded simple enough being told through Price's steady, calm voice.
I slept fitfully that night, and woke the next morning to someone shaking me.
"Get up! Wake up, Levark, we're landing!"
"Hwuh?" I blubbered groggily. Price was shaking me, over and over. "Get up! Let's go, we have to move!"
I scrambled to my feet, and Price shoved an earpiece into my hands. "Put this on. Hostile forces are moving in fast, and we have to treat Soap! Let's move!"
Yuri and I lifted Soap between us, supporting him as we jumped off the helicopter. The building was right in front of this small courtyard, surrounded by others that looked years old. Moving as fast as we could, Price lead Yuri and I, heaving Soap's weight between the two of us, into the building and up the steps.
"Lay him down here!" Price pointed to a long medical table. I glanced out the window, short panic rising in my chest. No soldiers yet, but where were the other doctors? It was just the three of us up here.
"Levark, what can you use that's up here? We haven't got much time." Price said quickly
I scanned the room. Bandages, multiple syringes, oxygen tanks, IV drips, scalpels...
I hurried over to the desk where about seven or so syringes laid on the front. My mind wheeled. Soap could only be in worse condition now, after moving him the way that we did. I grabbed morphine, adrenaline, and a sewing kit. The wound on his chest would need to be sewn, but did we have the time for that?
Looks like I'd have to find out.
"I'm going to patch him up, but I'm going to be quick about it. It won't be perfect, but we're running low on time."
Price nodded. "Do what you can Levark, and hurry."
I hurried over to where Soap laid on the table. He was groaning in pain now, and his arms were jerking. I injected him with the morphine, and quickly took off the tightly wrapped bandage that covered the wound. God, it was wrapped so tightly, it's a wonder he could breathe at all. But I then knew why it had been wrapped the way it had.
The second I took it off, it started bleeding so heavily that I had to practically crush his chest to stop the blood flow.
"He's going to lose a lot of blood, but I have to get this stitched. Help me keep his arms still, and apply pressure to any part of the wound I'm not stitching."
It was a small wound, but whoever had stabbed him had done a pretty good job at it.
Determined, I stitched up the wound as quickly as I could as Price and Yuri tried to keep him still. He was losing a lot of blood now, and I was afraid it would be too much. He groaned, and clenched his teeth as I worked on him. The moment I was done was when the first explosion went off.
Price, Yuri and I hit the ground, as several more erupted outside. We grabbed our guns, and heaved Soap away from the windows. Shouts and gunfire went off around us outside.
I was startled to hear Nikolai's voice in my earpiece.
"You guys are completed surrounded! You need to move NOW!"
Price ran over to the window and started firing off his gun, as Yuri and I moved Soap to safety. He wasn't bleeding as badly anymore, but he was still weak from blood loss.
"Yuri, Levark, grab Soap and get him to cover! We've got to-"
He was cut off by a voice in our earpiece that wasn't Nikolai. The man had a Russian accent, and his voice was thin and reedy, very contrasting to Yuri's. I've never heard anything like it. You don't trust a man who had a voice like this one, whether you know him or not.
"Nice to see you're still fighting, Captain Price. I hope to see you very, very soon."
Then our earpieces were quiet.
I looked at Price. He stood, frozen in silence with a look of pure horror on his face.
"Price, who was that?" I demanded as we laid low against the wall, out of the range of fire. Yuri was silent as usual, but looked like he just saw a ghost.
"That was Makarov, Levark."
A/N: Yeah, I know, that last bit didn't happen in the game. But I'm just going to be changing and adding a few things here and there, but still going to try and stick to the original story of MW3. Reviews keep me motivated, so tell me what you think!
