Captain John "Soap" MacTavish

Task Force 141

Task Force 141 Land-base

Sometimes the world was filled with irony.

You do not need to be the only survivor of an apparent suicide mission to save the world, hence, being made a Captain of an international Task Force of elites only to remember that you were the FNG of said team that saved the world…

Also, the place that you were going to call home, that one place which would house you and your men (as well as one woman, but she wasn't there yet), the "last fortress between Ultranationalist Russia and the rest of the world", was right in Russia itself. Now that was the biggest irony. Their land-base was located in the eastern coastline of Russia, an already almost-forgotten place, covered by mountains and treacherous roads. There was no wonder why the Russians had not discovered it yet.

And so, the world places their hope on the men that would come to that dubiously-placed base, and in turn, the men who came in greater numbers with every passing day places their fate upon the one man that had been lucky to make it out alive…

MacTavish found it rather… interesting indeed.

However, there was still work to do, no matter how unfit he deemed himself, and he knew that this lousy stack of paperwork right before him was certainly a foreshadowing of what was to come. Most of them were the processing forms of the newcomers, which encompassed almost every single personnel in the land-base, him included, and each of the forms were about ten pages long…

He had forgotten how long he had been there, but what he knew was that the longer he sat in that chair, his rear end would soon explode, and his brain would melt. That was when he heard the sounds of an unfamiliar helicopter, and when he looked out of his office, found that it was some sort of Japanese aircraft, most probably a Kawasaki, carrying, without a doubt, the woman that would serve in the field.

Shepherd told him that she would be entering the base from Japan, and she was already among the latest to arrive in the 141. And boy, did she know how to catch the attention of the boys. From the make of the helicopter, to the flags that the aircraft had borne, there was no need to even wonder who that helicopter carried. The pilot also managed to put in a few rather tight maneuvers, and landed in complete style. A showy act, but it was fitting one indeed. He needed to see something to break from the monotony.

Thus, he put down his pen and walked out of the confines of his "prison", and walked towards the landing area to welcome the "other" Lieutenant of their unit.

Most of the boys were already out to see her, and they were rewarded justly for their attempts, which were to say, she looked exactly like in her photographs: red hair, black eyes, and a face that was not extremely beautiful, but one that made you want to look at again and again. In standard-issue uniform and her hair in a braided bun, there was no doubt her womanly curves could not be seen, but something else caught the attention of the men.

This lieutenant was bearing a Japanese sword.

What the hell was she? A modern-day Samurai or something?

MacTavish nodded towards Ghost, who rushed up to greet her, and was given a warm handshake in return. "How was the flight from Japan?" Ghost asked her, looking rather amused from the tone of his voice. It had been one that was… appreciative, but bore no lust, which would most likely be going through most of the heads of the men by now.

"It was great," she replied, as MacTavish strained to hear, highly enthusiastic, but somehow, her tone of speeach seemed so strange to him, for some reason that he could not place his mind upon. "You must be Simon Riley, I presume?" she asked Ghost, noting the insignias upon his uniform, thus receiving a nod for an answer.

"You can call me Ghost," Ghost replied. "And you're Ryuka Algren."

She chuckled. "It seems that our reputations precede us both then, Ghost," she said. "Please, call me Reddie, it is short for 'Koutatsu' in English."

Being an SAS man, Ghost was exposed to several languages, just as MacTavish was. "So, your official call-sign is Red Dragon then," he told her, and it was her turn to nod. Soon, they were before MacTavish, and Ryuka looked at him, gazing into his blue eyes for quite a moment before she saluted him.

"Lieutenant Ryuka Algren reporting for duty, sir!" she said, her words clearer than the mid-morning air. MacTavish returned the gesture, and they walked into the base together with Ghost. Now, at least the upper hierarchies of the Task Force 141 were complete, with the exception of Shepherd, of course.

"So, you're the famous 'Red Dragon'," he said to her. "You were the one who discovered that nuclear bomb?"

For a moment, she was silent, and turned towards him, and said, "Yes, sir, just as you were the one who killed Imran Zakhaev." Ghost almost hooted out loud in laughter at the look upon MacTavish's face, but judging by the inhumanly quick change of expression on MacTavish's face, decided not to, even if the comeback was not one that he had expected at all. MacTavish must have thought that his exploits with his late teammates were a total secret.

"Do not worry," she added. "My father is with the Marines, he told me all about your mission from a friend." Well, that was plausible, seeing that the Algren family was in almost every unit conceivable in the American Armed Forces. "Your exploits are most inspiring, sir."

For that one moment, MacTavish almost thought that there had been an underlying meaning to her words, but he dismissed it the very moment he volunteered to show her around the base, to which she obliged with a little Japanese bow.

She was to have her own room, not because of her rank, but because there were no amenities for women for obvious reasons. "I thank you, Captain," she told him when the tour ended, having seen the hangar, the medical wing, the various and well-stocked armories, vast training grounds, and of course, top of the line mess hall. She held out her hand, and said, "May we have a great time working with one another."

MacTavish took her hand and shook it. "Same to you, Algren."

"Please, call me Reddie or Ryuka. There may be more Algrens at this rate the unit is expanding."

The next morning, MacTavish rose early to put in some training of his own in the form of a few rounds on the track, but what he saw was Ryuka, standing in the center of the field with her katana unsheathed, gleaming in the sun's first lights. With him remaining behind her line of sight, she took a deep breath and started to attack an unseen enemy.

Her movements were something that he had never seen before. Of course, many soldiers were trained in more than a few styles of self-defense. Taekwondo, karate, judo, copeira, even Malaysian silat, but still, her style of kenjutsu was as rare as it came by. The attacks were highly violent. He could see that if they were in the age of swords, many would have already fallen to that deadly weapon...

His warrior's eye could see a pattern in her attacks, which consisted of a strike that happened almost immediately after her katana was unsheathed. Such a style would demand not only speed due to the curve of the katana, but also strength so that the attacks could be carried out effectively. He was sure that men would have dominated such a style, and not women. However, he could see where the she lacked in strength, she gained in speed and with her lighter build, she was able to produce highly acrobatic movements that was sure to have left her opponents guessing.

And suddenly she stopped just after she had finished an aerial assault that would have cut a man into half vertically if one was really in front of her. "Captain, I did not realize that you were here as well!" she exclaimed her apologies, sheathing her katana rapidly.

"It's alright, lass," he told her, looking rather amused at her surprise. "You seemed to be in the world of your own."

A smile crossed her features, and she nodded. "My katana reminds me of my family when I am away from them," she replied. "I was taught to use it far earlier than I was taught to use any of the modern weapons we have here… We hang on to our traditions more stubbornly than we support any American war-effort."

"You're all just trying to protect what you love," MacTavish offered.

"Then what is it that brings you here, Captain?" Ryuka asked him. "Is it your family, your country, or something else?"

Those words, they contained a fire that he could not place, but that smile…

He had to be careful. This woman was particularly dangerous, for she was able to spring from anywhere even if she was cornered. "Forgive me, Captain, I have spoken out of line," she offered, sensing that he was not willing to answer her question. "If you would excuse me, I will take my leave."

Ryuka gave him a quick salute, and moved back towards her quarters. "Flighty little missie, ain't she?" Ghost asked MacTavish. Ah, another asshole that liked to pop here and there just when he wished. MacTavish really hoped that Ghost would be the only one who could sneak around unheard and undetected, or he would have to make sure everyone wore tap-dancing shoes on the base.

"Aye," MacTavish replied. "She's a lot different than what I'd expected."

He could have sworn that Ghost raised an eyebrow at him. Even if he could not see the said eyebrow move through the reflective sunglasses that the Lieutenant wore, he could still see the muscles on his face move, indicating the gesture. "You… interested in her, sir?"

MacTavish had a sudden urge to flip his Lieutenant off, but it would be highly unrefined. Wait, what did he care about being refined anyways? He was a soldier for crying out loud! Ghost took the gesture in stride, like all men did, and walked off before the Captain did anything else… drastic.

Oh well, he'd better get back to the paperwork that he had left off since yesterday. Shepherd would be expected in the base any moment now, and he did not want to leave a bad impression on his new commanding officer with a whole stack of tardy papers.

"You're the Task Force 141, a new elite unit that the NATO armies, and our allies have decided to pull together," Shepherd said to the members of the 141 later in the afternoon. There were only about 30 of them to be actively engaged in the field, a number that was sure to be expanded. "All of you are the best in the world in what you do, and as such, I expect nothing but the best results from you all, am I understood?"

There was a loud chorus of "Yes sir" that followed his words, and Shepherd seemed pleased. He went on to brief them on the rules of the 141, showing that the unit was far different than what they were used to, besides the common features of military life. Apart from Shepherd himself, the Captain and the two Lieutenants, the rest of them were all considered as subordinates regardless of rank, to facilitate a "stronger sense of kinship" between them, and that they would have to undergo frequent and vigorous training sessions, be it physical or technical. However, the most outlandish requirement of all was that they were required to take Russian classes if they were not already fluent in the language, in order to "blend in" with the locals in the area, which inhabited the scattered little towns beneath the mountains they were in.

"But it's the language of the enemy!" one particular Sergeant said out loud, perhaps unknowing that everyone heard him.

"What would cost more then?" Ryuka asked the man. "Your own nationalistic dignity or the possible failure of all our operations once we are discovered by the Ultranationalists?"

The man was immediately silenced, and he apologized for his outburst. With a quick nod from Shepherd, Ryuka sat down again, visibly receiving a glare from the Sergeant.

"Whatever it is," Shepherd continued. "The rules of the 141 are to be followed by all 141 combatants, no exceptions. If there is any proof of you doing anything you're not supposed to, it's the boot for you, no matter who you are."

HAN: How did you like this chapter? Tell me in a review, and I'm sorry for not updating as quickly as I would like... New Year's festivities and all, hehehhehe ^.^