Here is Chapter Ten of Down the Line! If anyone is still reading this, then THANKYOU! I realized I just like writing either way, so then I don't have these random ideas just everywhere in my head! Hope you Enjoy! DISCLAIMER: DO NOT OWN CALL OF DUTY, AND I MEAN NONE OF IT! JUST MY OCS and made up places etc! If I did own COD, then Gaz and Soap probably wouldn't have died, or Ghost and Roach.
Natalya Corveshky
Unknown, Russia more than likely
With MAKAROV
Natalya fluttered her eyes open to find light streaming in through some windows. She sat up, with her heart pounding, to realize she was laying in a bed, in a strange room. It looked classy, and modern. The curtains were light and shimmery sliver, and when she looked past the curtains, she saw that there was a small balcony. The sheets on the bed were soft and foreign to her. She was still wearing the clothes from yesterday, which was a great relief. She slowly swung her legs over the side of the bed, and got up. She wobbled over to the curtains, and stepped out onto the balcony. She glanced around outside, and realized it was early morning. The huge digital clock she saw across from her on another building had the temperature, which said 72F degrees. Natalya was leaning over the balcony railing to see if she could figure out the name of the place on a sign, when suddenly someone yanked her back into the room. When the person turned her body around, she saw Makarov glaring at her. He was the one who had yanked her back.
"What the hell were you doing!"
"I-I was just seeing where we were?" She stuttered at the beginning, since he seemed quite angered at what she had done. He looked about ready to slap her across the face, but instead he took a deep breath and pushed her against the wall. He leaned in until his face was barely three inches from her own, and spoke to her.
"Listen girl, we are going to see your father today, and I don't want any trouble on your end. Understand?" She nodded her head. "Verbal please, da?"
"Da, no trouble. Where are we?"
"We're in Moscow. There are clothes for you in the closet over there. I will be back shortly to get you." He looked like he was about to say something, but instead he put his hands on her waist and kissed her. She stood there up against the wall, thinking about random things about Makarov. How his eyes were different colors, how his hair was tousled and messy, and how instead of maybe mint or woods, he smelled like gunpowder and some cologne. It just seemed dangerous, like a mysterious Russian terrorist should seem. In the back of her head, she could almost see Kamarov gloating, saying he told them so and that she was with the enemy. But right now for some reason or another, Natalya could care less. She ran her hands through his dark hair, and when they finally pulled apart, Makarov's expression almost seemed to soften. But in a quick second, his face went back to normal and he pushed her to the wall, then left. She slid down the wall, and sat on the floor with her legs stretched out in front of her. After a few minutes she decided she should go get new clothes to put on. She stood up, and then walked over to the closet Makarov was talking about. Natalya slid the glass door to the side, and went through the different clothes. She rolled her eyes at how different the clothes were, and the two main styles of clothing. The clothes were either sheer, daring, and sexy dresses, shirts and pants, or clothing that resembled something Catwoman would wear, and camoflauge. The shoes were a little better. There were tall high-heels and stilettos, or dark colored boots in different styles. Natalya wondered who exactly picked her clothes out. After some consideration, she decided on a form-fitting black leather jacket, a low v-neck red shirt, a pair of white chino shorts, and as a final touch, some black flat-heeled ankle booties. She put it all on, and went into the bathroom adjoining the room. She looked at herself in the mirror, and when she looked down, she noticed a bag from a Russian drugstore. When she dug inside, she found mascara, black gel eyeliner, and some bronze eyeshadow. Natalya put it on with much expertise, having had Alexei's older cousin Tatya show her how. She messed her hair up alittle, and stepped out into the main bedroom. Once she felt complete, she sat on the bed and waited. Makarov came in shortly, and gave her a once-over.
"Good. Change the pants." She tilted her head, curious.
"Why?"
"They're too short."
"They are the only bottoms that wouldn't make me look like a whore!" Makarov scoffed at her, and went over to the closet. After a short moment of rummaging, he pulled out some pants. They had a camoflauge pattern on them, which consisted of black, grays, and white, but the pattern was faint. Makarov tossed them at the Russian girl sitting on the bed.
"Put these on." He went over to the balcony and looked out as she took the chino shorts off and put the camo pants on. They were skinny jeans, surprise surprise, and fit her well. She was curious how they knew her size so well. Once they were on, she walked over to Makarov, and stood by his side, cautiously. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "Good. Let's go." As she started to walk away, he stopped her and made her face him. He placed his hands on her shoulders, and looked down upon her. Natalya felt self-conscious as he examined her, and then suddenly his hands came down to V in the vneck shirt. She attempted to step back, but one hand on her shoulder kept her in place. She watched as he took the fabric in his hands and pulled it up. His right hand then moved to her waist, and his other hand went to his side. He walked her out next to him closely, and one he opened the door, all eyes were on her. Kiril and Lev had been playing cards, while Anatoly read a newspaper. Yuri was nowhere to be found. Kiril's eyes basically raped her mentally, and she crossed her arms. Makarov noticed this and narrowed his heterochromic eyes at the other Russian terrorist.
"Something wrong Kiril? I swear if you lay one of your fucking hands on her I will cut your damn hand off your arm." Kiril looked away from her. Makarov took a look around the room. "Where is Yuri?" Anatoly looked up from his paper.
"Yuri went down to the lobby. Didn't say why." Kiril stood up.
"I'll go ge-" Makarov interrupted him.
"Natalya. Go retrieve Yuri for me. We have much to talk about before the meeting." She looked up at the man who's arm was wrapped around her waist possessively.
"Where is this meeting going to happen?"
"Here. Now go." He placed a keycard in her hand, and pushed her gently to the door. "The lobby is on the first floor. This is floor ten. Use the elevator at the end of the hall." She opened the door, and as she closed it, she heard the men inside arguing with Makarov.
"Makarov you can't be serious! She'll escape!" It sounded like Lev.
"She won't go anywhere. Yuri will stop her. Besides, she wants to see her father. Don't worry about it." Natalya walked down the hallway and found the elevator. Well what she thought was the elevator. She had come to a place with two big metal sliding doors, and they were closed. She tried to pry them open but they wouldn't move. She didn't know what to do, so instead she ran back to the room. She looked at the keycard in her hand, and then at the black box on the door she had came from. She shoved the card into it, and waited for the door to open. Instead, the black box made a beeping noise, and a red light flashed. She bit her lip and tried again. It made the beeping noise and the red light flashed. The Russian decided to just knock on the door instead. A moment later, the door opened and Makarov appeared. "Da Natalya?" She pointed down the hall.
"What is that thing? With the big metal doors?" She then held up the keycard. "And how do you use this?" The Russian terrorist actually chuckled and raised an eyebrow.
"You have never used a keycard or an elevator?" She shook her head. He chuckled again, and closed the door. They heard the lock click, and Makarov took the keycard. "You slide it in this way, wait a second or two, then pull it out. When the green light flashes, the door is open and you can come in. Now let's go to the elevator." They both walked down the hall, and they got to the big metal doors. Makarov pressed a button with in the middle of the wall. A few moments later, the big metal doors opened, and Makarov stepped inside. Natalya did too, but cautiously, like a deer near a road. Once they were both standing inside, Makarov pointed at a panel with many different buttons on it. "You press the button with number one on it to go to the lobby. When you want to get back, press the button with number ten on it. Understand this girl?" She nodded her head yes.
"Da." He stepped towards her, and held her waist again.
"Don't get lost, and don't let anyone take you." He stepped out of the elevator, and started down the hall back to the room. She pressed the button with one on it, and the doors closed. She felt the strange sensation as the elevator descended. When it reached one, she stepped out and she was in the lobby. Natalya scanned the huge lobby looking for Yuri. She didn't see him anywhere, but what she did see was a sort of familar man walking towards her.
"Natalya? Natalya is that you!?" It was her father. She was in shock, and to her surprise, she bolted. She tried to get in the elevator, but it was already gone. She noticed a door next to the elevator which said "Stairs." She ran through that door, and up the flights of stairs. Natalya heard her father coming after her, so she sprinted up the stairs as fast as she could. The floor levels kept rising, until she reached ten. She pushed through the door and raced down the hall to Makarov's room. She fumbled with the keycard and shoved it into the black box like Makarov told her. She took it out and the light blinked red. Natalya swore under the breath and tried again. It accepted the keycard this time and the light turned green. Natalya pushed the door open then slammed it shut. When she turned around, everyone was staring at her. She stood leaning against the door, panting, with her chest falling and rising rapidly. Anatoly spoke up.
"What happened to you?"
"My-" She panted, "M-my father is uh is here!" Immediately after she said those words, everyone went into action. Lev and Kiril put the cards away, and Anatoly found all of the garbage or vodka bottles and threw them away. Viktor, who had been sleeping earlier, straightnened the chairs out and then went to stand by a window. Kiril and Lev took various positions around the room, and Anatoly stood near Makarov. The door opened, and it wasn't her father, but instead Yuri. Makarov looked at him.
"Yuri, take the girl to my room. Keep her in there until I say otherwise. Go, go." Yuri took her by the arm and led her to the room she had woken up in earlier. Yuri pushed her to the bed, and listened in from the door. She heard a loud knock, and then the sound of a door opening. A new voice spoke.
"Where is my daughter? Damn it Makarov, I want her without a scratch." She heard Makarov chuckle darkly.
"You think you can just come in and demand things left and right? First, let's talk about the price for your gorgeous daughter. I like the blond hair, did she get that from you? I think it comes from your wife."
"Where IS she!"
"I said we are going to talk about the price, Sasha. You give us the intel we've been looking for all these years, and you can bring Natalya home, and live safe and sound. I won't touch her at all, and you can try to get back to normal even though your wife was brutally murdered." There was a deathly silence that fell over the next room.
"What? Irena was alive when I left...She still is!"
"Nyet. Nyet. Your wife was killed years ago. Actually, if I remember it well, she died two days after she was taken. Strong one, didn't say a word about your intel."
"You killed her!? She knew nothing of my work! She had no idea whatsoever! She was innocent..." Natalya felt tears roll down her face, and even Yuri looked slightly troubled.
"I didn't kill her. Zakhaev did. His men of course, he couldn't control what they did behind closed doors though. Just like I can't control mine behind that door." Natalya shot straight up, and looked wide-eyed at Yuri.
"No...Makarov don't touch her! My daughter is all I have left."
"That's what you get Sasha, when you join the cause, but are not fully involved with it. You never understood what this was about. Now the intel Sasha. You and I both know you keep it on yourself at all times."
"I want to see my daughter."
"Alright, Yuri!" Yuri took her roughly by her arm and dragged her to the door. He swung it wide open, and pulled Natalya out where everyone could see her. Her father was standing in the middle of the room, his dark brown hair ruffled slightly, along with his black suit.
"Natalya..." He breathed out, taking one step forward. Makarov pointed his Desert Eagle at Sasha.
"Nyet Corveshky. You get to see, not touch. Now enter the intel into this computer, so we can finish this up." Sasha looked to the floor, then at his daughter. The Russian man shook his head slightly.
"I'm sorry my little one. I'm sorry." Then in a louder voice, "No Makarov. You're not having this intel." Natalya's face showed pure shock and disbelief. She decided to speak up.
"What? Daddy?" It hurt Sasha to hear her say that, after he just refused to take her with him. It was almost like all the other times they had seperated from each other.
"I am sorry Natya. I can't do it though." With that in the air settling, he stiffly stood there, refusing to look into her face. Makarov led her back to the bedroom, clearly pissed.
"You are going to do one thing for me. I know you will do it, since you have no choice."
"What is it? It's not like I want anything to do with him right now. He's leaving me in your hands, and for what reason? I trusted him."
"You are going to take this transmitter, and when I allow you to hug him, you are to slip it into his pocket. It's lightweight and he will barely notice it. Can you do this?" She nodded and walked out to the main room. Makarov flicked his wrist towards Sasha, and Natalya ran up to him. Sasha put his arms around her, and buried his face in her shoulder.
"I'm sorry Natalya, I didn't want to leave you in the hands of that monster, but I have to." She carefully slipped her arms lower, near his coat pockets. With expertise stealth, she slid the little transmitter into his right coat pocket and then hugged him a little tighter.
"Goodbye."
"Goodbye Natalya. I promise you we will be together and live a normal life soon. I love you."
"Those are too many empty promises, now goodbye." Natalya backed away from him, the hurt clear in her eyes, as Kiril and Lev led her father to the door. They opened it, and then he walked out, taking one backwards glance over his shoulder at his daughter. She looked at the pale blue marble floor of the room. Makarov came went over to her, then put his hand on her shoulder.
"Good. You did good Natalya. Now, we have plans to make."
Soap Mactavish
Loyalist Base, Russia
"Price we need to go to Hamburg."
"No Soap. We can't just up and leave to see her. She was meant to leave, and will contact us when and if she even wants to see us again." Soap was arguing with Captain Price in the mess hall of the Russian Loyalist base. He had heard earlier that Nikolai had just arrived in Hamburg at the safehouse there, and he wanted to go and see Natalya. No one would tell him if Natalya was there too, but everyone seemed clueless anyways.
"Captain Price, we need to know what happened to them! Who had shot them down, and if she's alright! What if Kamarov left her there, and just took Nikolai?"
"Bloody hell Soap, I doubt Kamarov would do that."
"He said she would get us all killed, I'm sure he'd do anything to get rid of her."
"Soap, mate, he didn't go with that squad to Vacoyce. They probably did pick her up."
"Price, this is just one favor. Just to see her, sir. We lost Gaz and Griggs, what if we lost Natalya too?" Captain Price let out a deep breath.
"Alright lad, I'll go talk to Kamarov."
About half an hour later, Price met up with Soap in a hallway near the medical ward.
"I talked to him."
"And what did he say?"
"He said he doesn't care what the hell we do, just to not get ourselves killed over something stupid." They had then packed anything they had, which was almost nothing, and got on the next plane to Hamburg. While on their way there, Soap couldn't help but think if Natalya was okay. Wouldn't Nikolai have told them if she was with him or not. And why wouldn't he contact them in general? They kept flying, and a few hours later, they were landing in Hamburg. Soap hurried as fast as he could with his healing wounds, and they both got off the plane. A Private led them down a couple of hallways, until they came to a small former bedroom. It had a wooden table in it and four chairs, along with a window, a dresser, and a full-length mirror. Sitting near the window was Nikolai. The Russian turned around when he heard the door open, and uttered out a faint greeting to the two SAS soldiers.
"Privyet my friends." Soap glanced around the room, clearly looking for the obvious.
"Where's Natalya?" Nikolai looked troubled, as he poured himself a shot of Imperial.
"I'm sorry. She was taken from me when we went to Vacoyce. She had read her friends journal and he had found a generator in Vacoyce, so we went there to find it. We split up there, and I had just finished searching my building, when Natalya screamed and called for help. These men were pulling her away, and I tried to stop them, but they shot at me. She kept yelling to me, telling me where to find the generator, until the man holding her hit her across the face. They loaded her into a plane, and flew out of the city. I went back to the building she had been searching, and when I found the generator inside, there was a transmitter on top of it. She must have found it on herself when she was there. I don't know who took her, but the men were Russian." He drank some of his Imperial, and the two SAS men stood there.
"She was taken?! Price we need to find her, she's valuable to us, and they'll kill her." Price sighed as Soap spoke to him.
"Soap. Mate, we don't know where she is. She could be anywhere in the entire world. The best thing to do is to just go back to Herefold, and continue on with our mission." Soap punched the wall next to him, and walked out of the room, which felt as if it was suffocating him. Natalya was just gone, and no one seemed to care. As he walked down the hallway, wanting to go outside, he tried to search through is mind trying to think of who would take her. Kamarov had said she was important since she was related to Sasha Corveshky, but he couldn't place on name on who would want her. Once he got outside however, one name quickly came to mind.
Vladimir Makarov.
Of course, it had to be Makarov. He was basically Imran Zakhaev's right-hand man. He had been at that meeting in Vacoyce where they first found Natalya. Soap decided to keep this information to himself, and to find out more. The next day, him and Price left for Herefold, with a few last words from Nikolai.
"I will keep an eye out for any suspicious activity my friends! Natalya will possibly be near it!" They flew all the way to Herefold and landed at the SAS base. Soap hadn't been there for quite awhile, having been on a long mission and then recovering at the Loyalist base. They got out of plane, and went straight for the main building. An older man, older than Price, came up to them. Price nodded his head to the man, in respect.
"Mac. We lost the girl."
"Son, you came back alive, the girl comes second." So this was MacMillan, the same MacMillan that Price had been with in Pripyat. Price had told Soap and the others about Mac back on one of their earlier missions. He had been in command of Price, and was there when Price shot Zakhaev, making the terrorist lose his arm.
"What did you want Mac?"
"Got some new FNG's for you to train if you want to. It'd get your mind of things John, and for your boy here too." He motioned to Soap as he said the last part. Price nodded.
"Oi, let's go Soap. You've been wanting to train again, so here's your chance." For the next hour or two, Soap watched the new guys train, and it still didn't get his mind of Natalya. By the end of training, he still had her in the back of his mind. MacMillan walked over to him and Price.
"There are a few soldiers you should meet. One of the FNG's has some potential, and the rest have been here for awhile." MacMillan walked with them to the mess hall, where a group of men were surrounding a table.
"Come on! I put money on you mate!" Soap heard shouting and cheers, so he went over there. Two men were seated at the table, arm-wrestling. One wore a balaclava with a skull on it, along with black sunglasses, while the other one looked younger, with dirty blonde hair, almost brown actually, and either blue or green eyes. Soap couldn't tell which color. It seemed like the man in the skull balaclava was winning.
"Roach! You can beat him! If you don't, I'll bloody make you do some hardcore training!"
"No! Roach is just a bug, Ghost just has to stomp on him with a boot!" The balaclava soldier finally smacked the other guys hand to the table, and some of the guys around the table cheered and patted him on the back. "Good job Ghost! Bloody good!" They all turned to look at Soap as he stood there, until MacMillan came up with Price.
"Men, this is John Mactavish, and Captain John Price. They took down Zakhaev and Al-Asad." All the men nodded in acknowledgement. Then MacMillan introduced some of the men.
"This is Gary Sanderson, or Roach, Ghost in the balaclava, then Archer, Toad, Chemo, Ozone, Meat, Royce, and Scarecrow. There are a few others around the base." He then turned back to Price and Soap. "You have a mission already. It's called Operation Kingfish. You're going to hunt down Vladimir Makarov."
**A/N: I know it seems stupid but since I have about no clue at ALL about Operation Kingfish and really only know Price was captured during it, I'm going to skip ahead.***
Soap sat at his new desk, staring down at the constant reminder of two things he'd lost. He had a brand new fresh dossier of Natalya Corveshky, and Price's pistol. After they had all returned from the mission, he had been promoted to Captain Mactavish, and he wasn't exactly Soap anymore. Any other time it would have been a great thing, but without Price there it didn't seem right to the Scottish soldier. This had all happened about two months ago, and Natalya was off the face of the earth it seemed. A new General had stepped in, General Sheperd, and currently he was in Afghanistan, observing some American soldiers over there. He had phoned Soap yesterday saying he had found a new member for the Task Force 141. The TF 141 was new also, and it was as Sheperd put it, 'the best handpicked group of men in the world.' Soap was in command of it, underneath Sheperd. He had taken Roach under his wing, since the young guy reminded Soap of himself when he had first arrived. Just yesterday, him and Roach had returned from a base and had taken an ACS, and they even destroyed the base almost too. The ringing of his phone snapped the Captain out of his thoughts.
"Mactavish, it's Sheperd. I have more information on the new member if you wanted to know. The names Joseph Allen, Private First Class. He won't be at the base for a few days though, since some paperwork needs to be finalized. Sheperd out." Soap disconnected the phone cord, sick of getting calls like that. They were all the same. Sheperd would say he had something to tell Soap, but at the same time, he wouldn't really say everything he probably should've been saying. Soap got up from his desk, deciding that some training would get him in his right mind. He had been slacking off with his normal routine, and he could just feel the mistakes adding up during missions if he didn't get back to training. The Captain made his way to the training hanger, and went inside. Ghost was inside teaching new FNGs about basic flashbanging and different types of grenades.
"-Now if you end up throwing a flashbang and hitting the bloody wall, then having it come back and hit you, well none of your teammates are going to help you. Instead of just FNG, you'd be the Fucking Noob with Grenades. No one wants that. Now-Oh Captain Mactavish." They all looked at Soap as he walked in.
"Carry on Ghost. I'm just walking through." Ghost nodded.
"Oi! Now try the smoke bombs about. Don't hit each other in the face though!" Ghost turned to Soap. "What's going on John?"
"It's nothing mate. I'm just walking around." He wasn't doing just that though. He was now thinking about Natalya even more. He went to sleep that night thinking about her, and of Price, wondering what happened to them.
Natalya Corveshky
Moscow?, Russia
With MAKAROV
Natalya stood uncomfortably in the main room, watching the various men doing a number of things. Lev and Anatoly were drinking supposedly coffee, Yuri was looking out the window and at times, her, Kiril and Viktor were discussing something in the newspaper, and Makarov was on the phone. She turned to listen to Makarov talk.
"Da. He'll be there shortly? Da." Makarov ended the call and glanced at her.
"Go change. We're going somewhere." She nodded and went to her and Makarov's bedroom. Natalya walked over to the closet and examined the contents inside. She picked out a long-sleeve black shirt with a slight V-neck, some black ankle booties with three and a half inch heels, and finally gray stonewashed skinny jeans. For the last day or so, she'd been reduced to wearing the slutty clothes some mysterious person had picked out for her. But now that there was a chance she'd get to leave the hotel, she picked out decent clothes. After she had changed, the Russian girl made her way into the adjoining bathroom. Natalya dug around for the mascara, eyeliner, and eyeshadow, and when she found them she put them on as perfectly as she could. Natalya checked her short blonde hair in the mirror, and decided to put it in a chignon. Her bangs swept to the side of her face lightly, and she crept out into the main room again. Makarov looked her over and nodded.
"Good. Now put these on. Vest first." He handed her a bulletproof vest, and then a dark gray trenchcoat. She slipped them both on, and then stood there.
"Where are we going?" She asked him softly.
"We are going to go to the lobby, find a certain man, and then go to the Zakhaev International Airport. No more questions." She stayed silent after that, and they all exited the hotel room. Makarov held her arm tightly, but to anyone else it'd seem like he was just helping guide her down the corridor to the elevator. They all got into the elevator, and Lev pressed the button for the first floor. Natalya watched the numbers above the doors decreasing, until it reached one. Once the doors opened, the Russians filed out and followed Makarov to a place near the main doors. A man stood near the doors wearing a coat similar to Makarov's and Natalya's. He came up to them casually and began to speak quietly to Makarov. Makarov nodded and said a few words back. He turned to the others. "This is Alexei Borodin. He'll be helping us at the airport." They all went outside, and Anatoly went a seperate way, telling Makarov he was going to find Pharoah. Makarov, Natalya, and Yuri got into a black car on the street, while Lev, Kiril and Viktor got in one behind the first. Yuri started the engine, and drove to the airport. Natalya sat next to Makarov in the back. Yuri drove down into the parking garage of the airport then stopped the car. Makarov took Natalya's face in his hands and kissed her forcefully, just like in Vacoyce.
"You are going to follow us, but you have to stay a safe distance away. If you run ahead, you will be shot and killed. Understood?" He asked her.
"Da." Natalya got out of the car, and when she looked at Yuri, there was a face of somewhat disgust on his face. Makarov got out, and then Lev, Kiril, and Viktor came out of nowhere. From Natalya's position next to Makarov, she watched as Lev and Kiril restrained Yuri. He kept trying to struggle, but they held him firm. She turned and watched as Makarov came from where the second car must've been parked, along with a gun in his hand.
"I know what you have done Yuri. I know what you told them. My friend. My ally. My betrayer. What happens here today, will change the world forever. Nothing can stop this. Not even you." Makarov held the gun up and shot Yuri right in the abdomen. Natalya almost screamed, but Alexei Borodin, the mysterious guy they found in the lobby, put a bare hand to her mouth and silenced her. Yuri fell to his knees, then all the way to the floor, his head hitting the floor with a thud. Makarov stepped over Yuri, and the others followed him. Alexei grabbed Natalya by her arm and led her to the elevator. She took a glance back at Yuri, who seemed to be still breathing. Once all of them were in the elevator, someone pressed the button to the second floor. Kiril said something, and Makarov grabbed him by the neck. "God is with us." He said in Russian. Then to everyone, "Remember, no Russian." The elevator doors opened, and Makarov, Lev, Kiril, and Viktor walked out casually. The people standing
near the elevator didn't even bother looking at the men as they formed somewhat of a line, until Makarov gave the signal. All four of the men, besides Alexei, opened fire on the innocent people. This time, Natalya screamed without anyone stopping her. Alexei hadn't shot anyone yet, and instead was just walking behind the others. The security guards did try to shoot the oncomning men, but they were riddled with bullets by the time they were about to fire. Natalya watched in shock and horror as the Russian terrorists executed the wounded with multiple shots to their bodies. Natalya got out of the elevator finally, and saw a woman leaning against a wall clutching a teddy bear. Natalya ran over to her and crouched down.
"You're going to be fine, just stay calm and breath." It seemed as if the men had forgetten her. She had been shot in the side though, but Natalya thought she could possibly live. That was until the woman's head slouched back and Natalya saw blood splatter on the wall. She screamed and stumbled backwards away from the woman. The now dead woman had been shot in the head, and when Natalya looked behind herself, she saw Kiril standing there with his weapon raised, pointing towards the woman. Natalya got up, wanting to throw up. Besides the screams of the victims, Natalya could faintly hear the sound of blood squishing on the floor, or a slick sound that came from fatally wounded people dragging themselves across the floor, leaving behind a dark red trail. She put her hand to a wall, trying to stable herself. Alexei had gone up ahead, and so she was a ways behind the group. Sure she had seen enemy soldiers and even friendly soldiers get shot and killed, such as Viktor Zakhaev, Imran Zakhaev, Gaz, and Griggs, but this was different. This was hundreds of innocent lives being destroyed in just minutes. She ran towards the escalators, determined to catch up with Makarov. She heard the screaming more clearly and louder now, so she knew she was coming closer. She was right. The four men were still firing into the fleeing masses of people, and the sound of squishing blood and the sight of slick blood trails are what Natalya heard and saw. She really wanted to throw up now, but she couldn't get herself too. So instead, she was stuck with almost dry heaving and a disturbing, knotted feeling in her stomach. Makarov turned to look at her.
"There you are. Let's go Natalya. The FSB will be here soon." She tried to nod, but it just made her light-headed. It was too much blood and screaming for her. The two glass elevators they were by were moving, and when Natalya looked to the first floor, she saw security guards getting into the one closest to Natalya and the others. As Makarov neared it, the doors opened. Makarov threw a grenade in, and the guards tried to get away from it, but it exploded, killing them all and causing the elevator to crash down to the main floor. "Move, they are right on time." The terrorists and Natalya went down the stairs and escalators, and shot more people. Natalya slowed down, staring at all the people who weren't dead yet, but instead dragging themselves pitifully across the slick airport floor. Makarov and the others were crouched near an entrance. "Reload your weapons." One of the others, Natalya didn't bother to see, said a comment.
"I've waited a long time for this." Makarov glanced at the speaker.
"Haven't we all?" They went outside. "For Zakhaev." The others muttered responses that Natalya couldn't hear. A cloud of smoke appeared, and then in a line came a group of FSB agents with riot shields. Makarov shot at a few of them, and pushed Natalya behind a wall. "Stay here." She listened to him, and crouched behind the cement wall, watching what was happening. Lev was shot and he fell to the tarmac. Natalya watched him closely, but he didn't get back up. Makarov's forced American accent came to her through the air.
"Man down. Reloading." Kiril was next to die. He fell to the tarmac like Lev did, and Natalya couldn't help but feel satisfaction. He had almost killed her, and the Russian man had never exactly liked her at all anyways. Makarov and Viktor were far ahead of her, and Makarov never looked back to check on her. She decided then and there that she was going to run for it. Makarov and Viktor had went in through a door to somewhere, and she figured the FSB would get him. She turned around and ran like hell back into the airport, this time trying her hardest not to look at the dead bodies all over the floor. She sprinted all the way back towards the elevator, until a familar person lying on the floor caught her eye. It was Yuri. By the looks of it, he seemed to be semi-conscious yet. She rushed over to him and kneeled down next to him.
"Yuri! Please, Yuri say something!" He blinked up at her, trying to focus on her, but with not much success. Sirens were heard, which she hadn't noticed before, and a man came rushing over to the two with a bag.
"We've got a live one!" He crouched down by Yuri and put an air mask on him. "Just breathe in and out." He turned to Natalya. "Who are you?" She quickly thought of what to say in her head. Natalya decided to just give a random name.
"My name is Olishka." What compelled her to give a fake name, she didn't know. But the man excepted it, and continued to tend to Yuri. Two other men came, and they put Yuri on a stretcher. Natalya followed them. The first man stopped her though.
"Do you know him?"
"I'm a close friend of his. Please help him!" She must've been convincing enough, since they allowed her to stay close by Yuri as they tried to save him. He had passed out from blood loss apparently, and then something struck her. How did he get from the parking garage to the floor they were on? He must've crawled to the elevator and rode it up. So he had to have been trying to stop the others from killing the civilians. That really stuck to Natalya. But at the moment, she had more important things to think about. Such as what she had just had to witness, how she had escaped from Makarov, and if Yuri was going to live. There was an earpiece in Yuri's ear, so she took it out and put it on when the men were talking amongst themselves. There was a voice speaking on it.
"That was no message. This is a message. The American thought he could fool us. When they find him, all of Russia will cry for war." It was Makarov speaking. But what was he talking about? Anatoly's voice was heard next.
"Makarov, who was that?"
"Joseph Allen. I have seen him before. The Americans thought they could just place him here and say he was Alexei Borodin. Hah. Let's go Anatoly, before they find us." So that man was an American. Natalya pondered that for a second. It was logical. He hadn't shot anyone as far as she could tell, and it was pretty coincidental that he was just there the day of their attack. The three men who were treating Yuri said a few words that snapped Natalya back to the present. The one who had first tended to Yuri glanced at Natalya, then the heart monitor in the ambulance they had gotten into.
"Olishka, we have good news, and a few questions. First, your friend here will be alright if we get to the hospital. Which we will, so there is nothing to worry about. Now here are a few questions we need to ask you. We combed through that whole airport practically, and only you were in any good kind of condition with no injuries whatsoever. What does that mean?"
"I had been in the bathroom, and my friend had been waiting by the detectors for me. I had been in there for about ten minutes or so, doing my makeup and well using the bathroom, and when I came out, I saw all these people, just-I'm sorry." She wiped her eyes, feeling tears finally coming out after what she had seen. "Anyways, I came out, and saw all these people covered in blood on the floor dead. Farther into the airport I heard screaming and gunfire. I hid behind a cart of luggage until the gunfire and screams became quieter and quieter, then I ran to the detectors and spotted my friend on the ground. Then a little bit later, you came along and put the air mask on him." The medic nodded, and wrote down a few notes on a notepad he had pulled out of somewhere.
"So you did not exactly see any shooters? Were there any voices you could identify?" She was about to tell them everything, but bit her tongue. If she told them Makarov's name and everything, they would know she hadn't just came out of the bathroom. If the gunfire had been coming from far away from her, she shouldn't have heard any voices. Natalya shook her head.
"Nyet. I did not hear any voices. I just heard the machine guns and screams." The medic gave her a look.
"Machine guns?"
"Da. The gunfire was loud and rapid. It would had to have been machine guns wouldn't it?" The medic nodded.
"That's all we needed to ask you." They rode in almost complete silence, except for the sound of sirens, the heart monitor, and the occasional mutter from a medic. Once they got to the hospital, the medics rushed Yuri inside on a stretcher with wheels, and Natalya followed. The medic who had questioned her told her to just wait in the waiting room. She sat on a leather chair and watched the small television in the corner. A bottle blonde reporter was speaking.
"...We've just heard news that 243 people in total died today at the Zakhaev International Airport. One body was found, which has been identified as American. A few wounded survivors said that the voices of the shooters sounded American, and that they used military words. As you can see in this next clip, many Russians are outraged by this massacre, and are rioting in the Red Square, where a statue of Imran Zakhaev stands above them." The television showed video footage of the Red Square, and in the Square there was a massive crowd of people yelling and protesting. Some signs said things such as, 'Death to America!', and 'USA will Pay for Today!' Natalya gasped in shock. That's probably what Makarov had planned. Even worse, he was still alive, yet all of Russia was crying for war, just as he had said. She covered her face with her slender hands, shaking her head in disbelief. He had known that Joseph Allen was undercover, and that's exactly why he had shot him. So all of those 243 ended lives were at the hands of an American. The reporter started to talk again.
"Police have investigated some of the weapons and bullets, and they are all American-based weapons and ammunition. This is all we have for today. Our thoughts and condelences to all of the many, many families effected by this horrible tragedy that happened at the Zakhaev International Airport." Natalya ended up sitting in that waiting room for about three hours, before finally, one of the medics came out and directed her to the room Yuri was in. She rushed through the door and stood by his bed. He looked up at her.
"Natalya. You're alright?" She nodded.
"Yuri, I thought you were dead!"
"I dragged myself to the elevator, and pressed the button for the second floor. I got out of the elevator, but I fell down. A guard's P99 was laying next to me, so I took it and struggled to get back up. I shot at Makarov and the other men, but I never got a good shot. Once I got through the metal detectors though, I collapsed and started to blank out. All I remember before blanking out is seeing your face all fuzzy, and then the air mask that guy put on me. Do they know who you are?" She shook her head.
"I told them my name was Olishka and we were close friends. They wanted to know how I was alive, and I told them I had been in the bathroom."
"Well what actually happened to you?"
"I stayed with the group, but when they got to the tarmac outside, the FSB came with riot shields. Lev and Kiril were shot and killed, while Makarov and Viktor escaped. They shot Alexei Borodin! He wasn't even who he said he was. His name was Joseph Allen, an American. Yuri, Makarov knew he was an American and undercover, so he shot him! That left all of those lives at the feet of some American! It's all over the news."
"Turn the television on." She took the remote from the table next to him and turned the TV in the corner on. It was just a recap of what she had watched earlier. The riots seemed to have gotten bigger, and now the whole story was out. Makarov and the others had used American guns, ammunition, accents, military jargon, and suits so it would seem like a group of American men had killed 243 innocent Russians. "That's bad. Russia will declare war on the US for this."
"Yuri, what are we going to do? I don't mean about the massacre, but after you recover? Where are you going to go? And I have one more question, why did Makarov shoot you?"
"I told some officials what Makarov was planning to do. He must have found out somehow, and that's why he shot me. I'm going to go to an old friend who is with the Loyalists. You can come with if you want, and then get you back to your home."
"Oh. Da, I will go with you. But right now, you need to get well. Oh and Yuri? Why did you tell officials about his plan in the first place?"
"I felt so uneasy about how lives were being taken. I heard that 30,000 Marines died with just a simple command. I was there when Makarov authorized it. Then this? Killing 243 civilians just to get attention really? Killing our fellow countrymen isn't helping Russia at all." A doctor came in and checked the heart monitor next to Yuri.
"Sir, why don't you get some rest? You lost a lot of blood. If we hadn't gotten to you sooner, you could've easily died. And Olishka is it? Why don't you go and get something to eat or go home? It's been a hectic and terrible day for you." Natalya said goodbye to Yuri, and went into the hospital cafeteria. She sat at a table alone and watched people around her crying. A nurse stood a few feet away from her, near a table with a couple of women sitting at it.
"So last name was Yakna? I'm sorry. Mr. Yakna died a few minutes ago. You are Mrs. Tesko? You're son died about an hour ago. I'm sorry for you both. But listen here, I doubt Russia will let this go unanswered. America will pay." The nurse was right.
America would pay.
That was the Airport Massacre! Review please! I tried to make it seem terrible and detailed, but I doubt I did that...Hope you are enjoying it, well to whoever is reading this still!