Chapter 6 : Brotherhood
20:22
Sgt. Gary "Roach" Sanderson
Task Force 141
Task Force 141 Headquarters (Location classified)
The General barged into the briefing room, his eyes bloodshot and his brow slanted in a frown. The man looked just about as tired as Roach felt. Still, General Shepherd radiated power and authority. That was one thing which never failed to amaze Roach. The General had presence. People naturally looked to him for leadership. A born leader, he thought.
Shepherd didn't waste any time. "What have you got on Makarov?"
"We were only able to interrogate Rojas for about an hour before we had to flee the favela. Respectfully, sir, this wouldn't have happened if someone had been there to extract us when we got Rojas. I nearly lost a man because of that." Captain Mactavish replied, his facial expression betraying no emotion, but his voice carrying a hint of anger.
The General sighed, and moved into one of the chairs. He sat, drumming his fingers onto the table. For a long moment, the sound of his fingers hitting the table rattled throughout the quiet room. No one said a word.
Finally, the General looked towards the squad.
"Russia has invaded America."
For a moment, Roach was taken by surprise. Then he realized he should have expected it, after remembering the massacre at Zakhaev International. He looked towards Ghost and Mactavish. Ghost's face was hidden by his mask and balaclava, while Mactavish was frowning.
The General continued. "They've been pushing us back, and they're gonna' keep doing that until we can pull more of our troops back from the Middle East. It's been a rough day. Damned Russians had already copied the ACS module before you and Sanderson managed to retrieve it. That's why we didn't receive your call for extraction." He explained.
Roach remembered the chilling days on the Tian Shan mountain range, where he and Mactavish had been sent to infiltrate a Russian military base and retrieve an ACS module from a downed American satellite.
Slowly, the three Task Force 141 members nodded. It wasn't Shepherd's fault that they weren't extracted. What's done was done. A soldier didn't dwell on matters that had already passed.
It was time to reveal the information they had attained.
"We weren't able to get Makarov's location out of Rojas. Frankly, I don't think he knew where he was. In the end, the only thing that we got out of him was that the only guy Makarov hates worse than Americans is locked in a Russian gulag." Ghost began, his voice muffled by the balaclava which he was still wearing.
Mactaivish nodded. "Prisoner 627."
Shepherd had stood up, and was listening intently, his eyes sharp and impenetrable. "Did you get any information about this prisoner?"
Ghost shook his head. "We wanted to question Rojas further, but by then the local militia had already started to close in on us."
Shepherd nodded. "It's all we've got, then. I'll try and get the location of the gulag. Once I have news, we'll move in and capture Prisoner 627. Right now, this person's our only lead. Hopefully we can use him or her as bait to draw Makarov out. In the meantime, get some rest. You're gonna' need it."
As one, the three of them saluted, and began to leave the room. They were at the door when Shepherd suddenly said, "Mactavish. Earlier on you said you nearly lost a man. I understand that Royce and Meat were killed by the militia. What happened?"
Roach darkened at the mention of Royce. He didn't want to be reminded of what had happened at the favela.
"During our escape, sir, Roach missed our helicopter because he had been shot in the leg earlier by Rojas. We went back for him in the helicopter, and he outran the militia before getting on." Mactavish explained.
Shepherd's eyes narrowed. "So you risked your only mode of escape to go back for him."
The General muttered a curse.
His gaze shifted to Roach. "Sanderson. You're a top-notch soldier, one of the best in the world. I understand that you're the least experienced in the squad, but damn it, if the squad has to risk their lives to save your ass again, you're out of the 141. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir!" Roach replied.
Self-loathing began to creep into him. Shepherd was right, he shouldn't have made such a mistake. It was also not the only error he made during the mission. Roach bitterly remembered the time in the favela where he froze on the spot when a grenade landed next to him. Only Meat's fast reflexes had saved him.
As a special operations forces soldier, he was used to being the best. His old instructors back at the SAS constantly stressed for them to aim for perfection and excellence. As SpecOps soldiers, the missions they would undertake would sensitive and dangerous. Success depended on being the best of the best. No quarter was to be given during training. As such, Roach felt furious with himself for making such rookie errors.
"Get some rest, team. You never know when another mission might crop up. And Roach, get your calf checked will ya'?" Mactavish said, as the three of them left the room.
"Right, but first I'm going to get something to eat. I'm fucking starving. Roach, you coming?" Ghost said, pulling off his mask, sunglasses and balaclava. His medium-length hair shone with sweat.
"Nah. I'm gonna' get some sleep." Roach lied, and stalked off.
Truthfully, he didn't know if he would be able to sleep. The matter about his mistakes still weighed heavily in his mind. Mactavish and Ghost didn't go after him. They knew what was bothering him, and knew that he would want some privacy.
Roach walked towards his room. Upon entering, he pulled off his shirt, and lay bare-chested onto his bed.
Everyone makes mistakes, he tried convincing himself, but it didn't work. All soldiers knew this: you should never endanger your team by putting yourself in a position where they would have to risk the mission's objectives as well as their lives to save you. It was your own responsibility to ensure that you could take care of yourself, so that the team could focus on the mission and not waste time taking care of an incompetent teammate.
Roach sat up with frustration. He'd let the squad down by being the weak link who had to be rescued. He knew that it sometimes happened, after all, no one was perfect, but being considered the weak link was a hard blow to any SpecOps soldier's pride. As the minutes flew by, Roach felt even more pissed with himself.
"Damn it."
He would do better next time, he vowed to himself, but the anger was still present in him.
And then there was Royce.
We couldn't even get his body.
His funeral and Meat's would be held in a few days, and Roach desperately hoped that he wouldn't be tied up in a mission during that time. He wondered who would replace the two of them, then gave a tired sigh. This was what being a soldier turned you into. You started thinking about your buddies' replacements even before their funerals were over, he thought.
I should go to the infirmary to check on my calf. And after that I should just sleep. It'll all blow over in a couple of days.
But as he limped towards the infirmary, avoiding all contact with the other Task Force 141 soldiers, he felt like hitting something. He needed a way to vent the anger, he decided. Turning around, he headed to the gym instead.
No one was inside.
Good.
He moved past the weight equipment and treadmills to a shelf in the corner, where he picked up two 4 ounce MMA gloves, and put them on. He pulled off his shoes and socks, and after engaging in a few mobility drills to loosen himself up, moved towards the heavy bag.
His first few strikes were controlled. He twisted his body with each punch, utilizing his entire body with each blow. Then, as the minutes went by, his strikes gained power. He threw a jab, a cross, a hook and ended the combination with a roundhouse kick. The sound of the impact rang through the gym, but Roach was oblivious. He was hitting the bag with all the combinations he knew, executing each strike with precision and power, but the anger in him wasn't subsided. With a shout he threw another kick, and doubled over in pain as he landed too hard on his left foot.
Damn Rojas, he thought, as he stood back up. He didn't bother to check the condition of his calf, before engaging in another flurry of punches and elbows. Just as he landed a particularly effective left hook, Roach sensed someone nearby.
"Looks like somebody's pissed." Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley said. He was similarly barefooted, and also had 4 ounce MMA gloves over his hands.
"Fuck off, Riley." Roach said, and turned back to the bag. That had been uncalled for, but Roach was too angry to care.
Suddenly, Roach felt a burst of pain in his ribs, and stumbled, nearly falling over. He looked over to Ghost, whom he realized had just kicked him.
"You should treat your lieutenant with respect, you little fucker." Ghost said, a smile forming on his lips.
I should ignore him, Roach thought.
He's just trying to bait me.
Roach turned towards the bag again, when Ghost suddenly sprang forward and punched him in the jaw. Roach fell, and nearly blacked out for an instant. He shook the pain off, fury building in him.
Fine, if that's how you wanna' play…
With a burst of speed, Roach lunged forward and unleashed a series of punches, aggressively pushing Ghost back.
You wanna' fight, don't cha'?
Roach swung his fist towards Ghost, confident that the blow would knock him out. The blow never landed. Ghost bobbed and weaved, moving in towards Roach. He swung his elbow into Roach's jaw, and kneed him hard in the abdomen. Roach flexed his abdominals just in time to protect himself from Ghost's knee, but Ghost had already grabbed Roach's thighs and took him to the ground. Putting his knee onto Roach's stomach, Ghost proceeded to pummel him with elbow strikes. It was all Roach could do to shield himself with his arms.
"C'mon, even a pussy like you can do better than this!" Ghost said, and elbowed Roach once more. With a snarl, Roach kneed Ghost in the kidney, causing Ghost to falter momentarily in pain. Taking the chance, Roach flipped Ghost to his side, and strained to put him in an armlock. He had almost managed it when Ghost slipped free. The two of them scrambled to their feet, exhausted and spent.
Roach gasped for breath, psyching himself up for another bout. Then his shoulders sagged, and he realized that his anger was gone.
"Got rid of that anger yet?" Ghost asked, a warm smile suddenly appearing on his tired face.
Roach blinked, confused.
Ghost nodded and dropped his arms, still breathing heavily. "Thought you might needed something else, other than that old bag to take your anger out on. Something alive, preferably. Its always more satisfying to hit a living being."
"So you weren't just being an asshole." Roach said, and immediately felt embarrased. He thought Ghost had been acting like a damned asshole, when it was actually him who was being difficult.
Ghost moved towards the water cooler. "Everyone makes mistakes, Roach. Even guys like us. We all lose it sometimes." He swallowed several gulps of water.
"Just don't let it get to your head. And I'm sorry about Royce. He was a good man."
Roach looked down, unsure of what to say. In the end, all he could muster was, "Thanks, Ghost."
Ghost waved him off as he put his shoes back on and replaced the gloves. Before walking out of the door, he turned back and with a cocky smile, he said, "By the way, I would've won that fight.", causing both men to grin.
Roach pulled off his gloves and put them back onto the shelf. Wiping off his sweat with a towel, he put on his shoes and headed towards the infirmary, glad to have vented his anger.
I've been rather busy with school lately, so I took a while to write this. The next chapter will focus on Mactavish and Shepherd, so stay tuned!
P.S. Does anyone know what exactly is an ACS module? I've played through the campaign several times and I still don't know what it is, or what it does.
