Drastic Measures

Makarov and Anatoly drove for four hours before they reached their destination. It was a small house in the middle of rural area surrounded by dense wood. As they got there, Gary was beginning to come out of his heavily sedated state.

"Wha? Gary said. "Simon?" His brain hadn't caught up to him yet. Gary found it hard to move, then it hit him, Simon Riley was dead and he was in the hands of vicious kidnappers. He tried to move but found that his hands were tied tightly.

"He's awake," Anatoly remarked. "Behave now boy or you'll regret it."

Gary knew struggling at this point was foolish, but he did anyway. Anatoly swore up a blue streak in Russian. What should have taken them ten minutes, took them twenty minutes.

"Scream all you want boy, there is no one around for miles."

He shoved Gary onto the dirty and filthy couch. Gary grunted, winded. He was left alone while Makarov and Anatoly left to set up the ransom video. Gary was manhandled into a chair and tied to it; the chair was in front of small camera on a tri-pod.

"I'm going to turn this on, and you are going to talk as if you are talking to your father."

"I'm not helping your murdering ass with anything."

Makarov chuckled.

"Brave but foolish boy. Do you enjoy enraging those who are more powerful than you?"

"You murdered him. God punishes murderers."

"Perhaps boy, but until then, you'd better behave yourself."

"I'm not afraid of you."

Makarov flicked on the camera.

"Talk to your father Gary." He said. Gary glared at the man, unwilling to say anything. Gary was not going to cooperate with this madman. Makarov turned the camera to face himself. "He's stubborn, but if you desire to see him alive again, you'll do everything I say."

"Don't listen to him dad! Don't put yourself above everyone else!"

"Anatoly shut him up."

Anatoly grabbed a large sack from the small table. Gary's eyes turned as wide as saucers. He thrashed against the chair as the large man approached him.

"No!" He cried out. "Don't!" He cried out in terror when it was put over his head. He fought with the chair and thrashed.

Gary's father watched the video in horror, Makarov laid down his terms. The surrender of the United States to the Ultranationalist group of Russia. No attempts at rescue from his soldiers. As the man stated his terms, he could hear Gary crying in the background. He turned to one of his advisors, his eyes wide with terror for his child.

"Now what?" He asked. He knew he couldn't surrender the entire country for the sake of his son but my god, what was going to happen to him?

"Sir, we can call in General Shepherd. He's been trying to form a group of elite soldiers to get rid of the Ultranationalists."

"Call him in. And give him permission to recruit whoever is needed. How is Riley doing?"

"He's in critical condition but he's fighting." His secretary said. "Doctors say he might make a full recovery."

It took Shepherd all but a week to track down one Lieutenant John MacTavish. The man was training some new recruits when Shepherd finally caught up to him.

"Lieutenant MacTavish."

"Welcome sir. What cannae do for you?"

"President Sanderson sent me to find you. We need your help."

It took another two weeks for Shepherd to gather all of the men he wanted and needed. When they were all gathered, he briefed them. He clicked a button and a picture popped up on the screen.

"This is Gary Sanderson; he's the President's son. Three weeks ago, he was taken into custody by Makarov, the leader of the Ultranationalists." He changed the picture to the bloodstained car where the abduction took place. "His escort was shot but he was not killed. Makarov is giving President Sanderson until the end of the week to give his answer. If not, Gary dies."

MacTavish stared at the picture. Gary was so young. Shepherd played the ransom video.

"Turn that off." Price said, after a moment of listening to Gary begging them to take the sack off his head and let him go home. "I'm in. When do we get the lad home to his father?"

"You leave tonight gentlemen. This is voluntary; you don't have to go if you do not want to."

"I'm in." MacTavish said.

Four hours later, they paraglided into the forest behind the house.

"He still hasn't answered." Makarov was telling Gary. Gary shrunk away from the deranged man. In the time they'd had him, he'd been beaten more times than he could count, verbally abused and denied water or food for several days, alternating with that horrible black sack that blinded him and terrified him. He was thinner from lack of nutrition and his face was a mass collection of bruises. "Maybe I should send him a finger so that he knows that I'm serious."

Gary scrambled backwards. His back hitting the wall when he could go no further. His tawny eyes wide with horror.

"N-no!" He stammered. Makarov approached him slowly, flicking out a knife. Before Makarov could make good on his threat there was the sound of a firefight outside the door. He grabbed Gary and forced him onto his back. The he forced the knife into the soft flesh of Gary's stomach. Gary tried to scream but found that he couldn't even draw breath. Makarov grinned wickedly.

"By the time they find you, it will be too late." Makarov said. Gary whined and shook his head.

"Please, don't!" He begged

Makarov dragged the knife down Gary's stomach, past his navel, widening the injury. Gary choked on a cry. When he yanked it out, Gary arched against the pain. It was this horrifying scene that MacTavish and Price walked in on.

"Welcome gentlemen."

"Help me." Gary gasped; blood was beginning to froth on his lips. "Please."

Makarov's smile was cruel.

"Move and I'll slit his throat." He told the two horrified men. Gary sobbed from his spot on the floor.

"It'll be all right lad." MacTavish said, "Drop the knife and step away from the child!"

Gary continued to beg for his life, Price felt badly for the teen.

"Let him go Makarov. There's nowhere to go and you're surrounded. Don't be a fool!"

"Please…I wanna go home…I don't wanna die."

Makarov dug the knife into the already grave injury. Gary whined and his fingers clawed at the flooring. MacTavish didn't hesitate a moment longer, he fired a single shot and Makarov slumped over the frightened and hurt child. Gary cried out and nearly passed out. Price was already in motion and rolled Makarov off of Gary.

"It's all right now lad. Just stay with me. Keep your eyes open." Price soothed. He broke eye contact with Gary. "Medic!"

MacTavish was securing Makarov with zip ties. The man hadn't died but he wasn't about to let him escape. Nor was he willing to be kind to the deranged man. That done, he joined Price at Gary's side. Price was trying to convince Gary to allow him to remove the knife.

"It's all right lad." MacTavish said. "I know you're frightened. But we have to take that thing out from your body, the sooner we do the better for you."

"N-no a!"

Price gripped Gary's hand that was clenched against the flooring.

"Gary, I know it hurts." He said as gently as possible. "But if it stays inside it will hurt worse. Soap, when I give the word."

"Nnn…" Gary moaned. He was starting to slip.

"I've got you lad. It's going to be all right."

Price held Gary in a tight grip and nodded to MacTavish. Taking as much care as possible, MacTavish slowly withdrew the blade. It looked rusted to all hell and he didn't want to chance it breaking. There was a metallic snap and the handle left with MacTavish's hand. Gary's eyes widened in panic and MacTavish felt a brief moment of it. Then he focused his attention on Gary.

"Shh… It's all right. I'll get it out."

He left them briefly and nearly bowled over another soldier who stood watching the scene in horror. MacTavish reached the small toolbox he'd seen on the way in and opened it. He grabbed the pair of pliers and raced back up the stairs. Where were the medics? He wondered as he dropped next to a now blood covered Price and Gary. He pulled out his own knife and Price had to hold Gary when he panicked.

"He's not going to hurt you lad. We just have to see." Price whispered.

"You!" MacTavish barked at a soldier, the younger man jumped. "Get in here and when this knife comes out you put pressure on the wound."

MacTavish cut away Gary's blood drenched shirt and pulled out his canteen, pouring fresh water to try to get a better view. There was a small piece of what was left of the knife protruding. He gripped it with the pliers and pulled it free. It came free with a sickening squelching sound. The other soldier pressed down as hard as he was able without hurting Gary further.

The medic nearly had an attack when he got to Gary.

"You idiots!" He said. Gary was still awake, he was pallid and shaking. "It's okay kid." The medic talked to Gary as he provided emergency care. "We're just gonna wrap this up, okay? Lay him flat." He said to Price.

Gary gasped breathlessly when the medic began wrapping the large slash. He lost consciousness midway through. "Damn assholes who did this to the kid." The medic mumbled. "What kind of monster tortures a child? I've done what I can for him. He needs to get to a hospital immediately and then he needs to stay there. Who pulled out the blade?"

"I did. It was bloody rusted and broke off in his body."

"That was probably the only smart thing you did."

Gary woke up midflight, an hour later.

"Don't move." MacTavish said quietly. "We're flying at several hundred feet. It's a long way down."

"Am I going home?"

"Yes, we're taking you home. Get some rest, lad."

Gary's face crumpled in sorrow. MacTavish sighed.

"Someone very close to called you that?"

"He was hired by my father as extra protection. But he was my friend." Gary said quietly. His fingers tightened on the blanket put over him to help stave off the shock. He didn't seem to be aware that it was even on him. "But he's dead and it's all my fault. If he hadn't been looking at me, he'd still be alive. He could have seen that man that shot him."

Gary began sobbing, but was too weak from starvation and blood loss to keep it up for long. MacTavish wasn't sure how to soothe Gary. He gripped Gary's hand in his.

"It's not your fault, Gary."

"But it is!" Gary cried. MacTavish felt sorry for the boy. After everything he'd been through, he still had so much left to go through. Price had told him to go with Gary, and he would wait for the second transport with Makarov and Anatoly.

"No it isn't Gary." He said. "You're just a lad, there was no way you could have known what was going to happen."

"He's still dead. He was my friend."

MacTavish tried to soothe Gary.

"Gary, let me tell about the time…" He managed to keep Gary distracted by telling him the story of when he was a rookie. He was in the Royal Air Service, stationed somewhere in the middle of the desert. The incident he was telling him about was during a training exercise.

"You got knocked out?" Gary asked.

"More like bludgeoned by the sergeant. Needless to say, I woke up three days later, in hospice."

"Did everyone get mad at you?"

"No, they all pissed on me for weeks after that."

"They what?"

"Made fun of, teased. I forget that you're American."

"Oh…" Gary blinked groggily.

"You must have an iron will, but you really should be resting."

"Don't leave me." Gary said.

"I'll stay as long as I am able to."

"Thanks. You're a good man, Lieutenant MacTavish. I hope I'll get to see you when we get there."

Gary was asleep before MacTavish could respond. The medic grinned.

"You've got a way with kids."

"Poor lad. What did that bastard do to him?"

"We got him out in time. We should be grateful that he's still breathing and such. Recovery will be a bit slow but I think he'll bounce right back. Kids are more resilient than we give them credit for."

AN: Hey everyone. It's been such a week of misadventures for me. And it's done nothing but rain since Tuesday. It's laughable now, but I was not happy all week. The house was so gross! Mold and mildew everywhere. I looked like the robot from Wall-E, the little one that was constantly cleaning. Anyway, please review. I'm so bored up here with all the rain.