Modern Warfare 3: Smoothing the Rough Edges

Rating: T (but only for a bit of cussing)

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are used for entertainment only, nor does the author make any money from writing it.

A/N: So here it is. The biggest chapter in this story, perhaps. I suppose I could have made this into two chapters, but I'm hoping to have about sixteen chapters, at maximum. And just so you'll know, I'm nearing the end of the work that is already written on paper, so it might take a while to get some of them done. But I'll try to not procrastinate too much and just do it. For your convenience of course.

SuddenSummerStorm: Haha, yes, spaghetti is a wonderful creation. When I wrote this, I think it was my favorite food, but after a deep mental conversation, I changed it to BLT's. :P Gotta love them sammiches. I'm happy that you though it was funny and good. :D

xGhostxStealth: For chapters 10 and 11: Hehe, yeah, I'm very sure that I will. I have one written already (on paper of course) but I'll write one for Call of Duty and post that first, just so that I can get the hang of it, and get your guys' feedback. :P It's okay to be slow. Not everyone can get on every day, so I don't see anything wrong. :3 Thanks for reviewing anyway! :D Yeah, Ghost is so badass, that he can't help but get lost. :P He can't help it. Yes. Ghost was stripping. Although, no one in the actual story appreciated it. Well, I suppose Ghost did…Lmao


Chapter 12: Special American Treatment

Soap sighed. The bright screen in front of him was starting to burn his eyes. As he rubbed his face in a futile attempt to keep himself awake, he heard Nikolai grunt. He looked over to see the Russian struggling just as badly as he was. Price on the other hand seemed fine; tapping away on the keyboard like nothing else in the world mattered. Sighing again, Soap returned to the task at hand. He was searching for the scattered task force members, while Price and Nikolai looked for intel on Makarov. As he read over a particularly small line, he found that even then he couldn't quite read it, 'Damn, I'm getting old,' he thought.

Nikolai grunted again and Soap gave him a sympathetic look. At least he knew he wasn't the only one suffering from sleep-deprivation. He again resumed clicking on random links, all of which seemed to lead to unimportant things. Inside, he snarled. He was tired of just sitting around doing nothing. He wanted to get out of the stupid, dark room and do something. He just didn't know what.

Soap clicked on a link that led to a city close to the Georgian-Russian border - where they had been betrayed. Suddenly, he sat up a little straighter. He read over a line that made his heart beat faster, his whole being quiver in excitement.

"Guys," he breathed, "I think I've found something!"

The others were immediately by his side. Noting this, Soap began to read.

"Two days ago, five battered men stumbled into the large city of Grozny. Unsure of their nationality, despite their 'British accents,' a local gang took them into custody. Not hard to think of what events are occurring with these bloody men, the gang assured to take good care of them - saying that they would give the 'Special American Treatment' to these strangers. If the truth about these loners is that they are truly not American, we give you highest apologies. But while this fact remains uncertain, no precautions are to be made."

By the end of the article, even Price was gaping. "Special American Treatment?" Nikolai muttered. Soap growled. He noticed that it was written two days ago. Meaning that their teammates could be dead. Clenching his fists, he looked at the photograph the article provided. In it were: Archer, Toad, Redcell, Poet, and Pieces. He was shocked at how bad their condition seemed to be. Shaking it off for a moment he glanced at Nikolai, "Do you know where Grozny is?"

Nikolai looked indignant, "Of course!" he cried.

With unspoken words, the three began to get ready. Soap walked over to his bed, pulling out his bag and stuffing all his supplies into it. Noting that the others weren't ready, he walked out onto the deck. He deeply breathed in the mountainous air. A few yards from the safe house was a river. The Volga River was a truly beautiful, peaceful river. Soap couldn't help but notice how gorgeous the simpleness of it was.

"Soap, we're ready!" Price called.

Said man nodded to himself and walked back inside. He grabbed his pack and quickly followed the others onto Nikolai's helo. The Russian started the engine and took off. Luckily he had refueled and reloaded a few days prior, so they were very well prepared for anything that came their way.

Soap soon felt his mind go blank. He was a person became bored easily, needing something to keep him busy - which made his career in the military all the better for him. Finding nothing to do, he gave into his body's sleep-deprived pleas. Lying on the metal bench that was surprisingly warm and comfy, Soap sighed for the third time that day, although this time in contentment. He soon fell asleep, his dreams once again tainted with nightmares. He saw the five task force members.

"Help us, Captain!" they screamed at him. His feet were rooted to the ground, rendering him useless. Two young Russian men came into view. They drew whips and began slashing bloody welts into their skin. They cried out in agony after every blow.

Finally the Russians pulled out pistols and shot the restrained men. Their bodies sat there, limp and bleeding. Suddenly transparent figures seemed to sprout from the corpses. They shouted at him, "How could you let us die, Captain?" Now they were hissing, and he flinched back, "Why did you let us die?"

All he could do was stand there and whimper, on the verge of tears.

Soap suddenly felt as if he were being shaken. He cracked open an eye to see the worried face of Price staring back down at him, "Are you alright, mate?"

Soap sat up quickly, in a panic. When he realized where he was he let his shoulders sag, "Uh, yeah. I'm just peachy." he replied.

Price narrowed his eyes, "Sure. Whimpering like a wounded dog is peachy."

Soap shuddered, the memory of his nightmare still made him want to vomit. Price gently patted Soap's back, his expression softening, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Soap cringed but told his story nonetheless. When he finished telling how vivid the images seemed, Price gave him a sympathetic look. "That's not going to happen." he said firmly, a bright fire blazing in his wise eyes. Soap smiled softly and gazed out of a small window. They were getting close to a large city, already flying over the suburbs. "Where are we?" Soap grunted.

Price smirked, "Believe it or not; Grozny."

Soap gaped at him, "How?" he cried.

Price gave him a soft look, "Soap, you've been asleep for quite a while."

Soap's eyes widened and his mouth formed into a small o. Then he shrugged it off and waited almost patiently. Just as his fingers began to drum on the seat, a telltale sign of his boredom, a sort of thump made him jump. He hadn't noticed Nikolai landing. "My friends," he spoke, "would you like me to assist you?"

Price glanced at him, "Only if you want to, mate." he murmured.

Nikolai nodded. Price shrugged and filled his pockets with magazines. Then he picked up his silenced M4A1 and waited for the other two. When they were ready they jogged to a large building. It was a hotel; no use to them. They crept along it's wall until they made it to the corner. Price peeked around it and gasped.

"What?" Soap hissed.

Price urgently motioned for him to be quiet before turning back to his comrades, "That was easy," he snorted, baffled.

Soap and Nikolai looked too and saw another large building not too far off. I had a symbol on it - a bold skull with seemingly delicate wings attached to it. For a second, Soap couldn't tell what was so important about it. Then he realized that he had seen the design on the arm of one of the gang members in the photo. His expression blossomed into excitement. He met Price's gaze and they nodded. Pushing ahead with Price taking point, Soap brought up the rear. As they neared the building they heard faint screams. Soap froze. They sounded so much like his nightmare...Nikolai ushered him onward and he warily continued, trying to block out the sounds.

When he reached the door, Price cracked it open just enough for them to see. Inside was a simple warehouse-like structure. Soap's blood ran cold. Five restrained men were sitting in the middle of the room - the same way his dream had put them.

Although they weren't getting whipped, they were still quite bloody from previous torture. Soap noticed that Archer and Toad were still wearing their ghillie suits, though the grass was shredded to bits and the hats were gone. He growled.

Price put a finger to his lips and silently stalked inside. The others followed stealthily after. Price slowly came to a crouching position, "Take them all out. If they spot you, kill them as quickly and quietly as you can." Then they separated, each going their own ways.

Soap crept along a row of crates and saw a bulky man standing guard at the end. A small snap was heard and he mentally cursed as he recognized his ankle popping. The man turned around, stumbling back in surprise when he saw Soap. Said man ran forward, slashing downward just as the Russian opened his mouth to call for help. Blood spurted from the wound splashing onto Soap. Inwardly he smirked, the satisfaction of killing someone making him giddy.

He quickly grabbed the man's corpse before it could fall to the floor and give his position away. As he got closer to the bound men, the rusty scent of blood got stronger. He shuddered and then pulled back his arm, ready to knife the next closest man.

Suddenly, Nikolai peeked around a box, making Soap pause. The man gave him a thumbs up, then pointed to an area on the other side of the box where Soap was taking cover and mouthed, "Price."

Soap nodded and replied just as silently, "How many?"

Nikolai held up three gloved fingers.

Soap grinned.

Perfect.

He inched forward until he also saw Price. Said man nodded at them and they moved in sync, killing the remaining Russian's with stabs to their hearts and lying their limp bodies down. Soap moved forward taking confident strides towards his teammates and motioning for them to be quiet. They jerked their heads in response and Soap cut the rope tying them to the metal folding chairs. He helped them to their feet and ushered them to Price who was leading the way outside.

When in the clear, everyone gave a sigh of relief. Archer spoke first, "Thank you, sir," he said slowly, his voice slurring; drunk from pain, "how did you find us?"

Soap smirked, "Internet." he replied cheekily.

Archer chuckled, nodding. Price rolled his eyes as they continued forward. Everyone seemed fine until Redcell collapsed, Pieces falling shortly afterward. Soap was immediately by their sides checking to see what was wrong. After a moment he relaxed,"It was just exhaustion," he stated.

Nikolai suddenly gasped, "I just realized something! I have a cousin who's base is only about fifty miles form here! We can take them there and get them proper medical attention."

Price paused for a moment before agreeing. They slung the two fallen soldiers over their shoulders and carried them onto the helo. Nikolai taking almost no time at all to get the engine warmed up and to take off, taking them to wherever his cousin's base was. The injured men slept on as Soap took off their jackets and such. It was then that the Scot figured out what the "Special American Treatment" was.

The words "American" were carved into their backs and slashed over with a whip, then some of the leftover blood was used to make gory pictures on their chests, including the gang's insignia. Price shook his head in disgust and dabbed the mess away with saliva-slicked paper towels. Soap "tsked" in disapproval, mentioning lightly that saliva was likely to cause infection but it was to deaf ears; Price only ignored him.

They reached the base quickly and before they had even landed, there were armed men waiting for them to step out. Nikolai went first, announcing something in Russian. Everyone relaxed after this and began speaking all at once. Someone then yelled something that made Nikolai smile. A soldier rushed forward urgently asking Soap, "Where are the injured?"

Soap immediately led him to the unconscious men, understanding that they could trust these Russians. As soon as the man saw the five, he winced. Soap observed as he called for more people who came instantly, carefully pulling the wounded into their arms, and swiftly moving back into the throng of soldiers who effectively hid them from sight. Suddenly, a man stepped forward, "I am Corporal Avel Chekhol," he rasped, "Smirnov's second in command. I am under control of this base while he is away."

Soap figured that Smirnov was the cousin Nikolai was talking about. Nikolai nodded, "Yes, sir." he replied respectfully, "is there a place for my comrades and I to stay while our men are being seen to?"

Chekhol nodded, "Of course! And there is no need for the sir. Please, call me Avel."

Price threw out a hand announcing when Avel took it, "My name is John Price and this here is John MacTavish." Soap felt his cheeks heat up under the scrutiny of all the soldiers. Avel made a motion with his head - a type of jerking bow, "Follow me," he commanded gently.

The three obliged, eager to see whatever it was that Avel was leading them to. When they walked through the doorway, they were immediately drawn to the cleanliness. Not a speck of dirt was seen on any of the surfaces. Avel seemed to notice their stares and scratched the back of his head, muttering bashfully, "The nurses do not like an unclean workplace, whereas the soldiers couldn't care less."

Nikolai chuckled. The ambled along a hallway, looking into rooms until they recognized the medical wing, "I'm sure you can tell what this is, and now you know where to find it." Soap nodded and they continued. A few more doors down they saw a small room, "This will serve as your barracks," Avel announced, "please make yourself at home. The showers and restrooms are one more door down and to the left." He then left them there.

They quickly set their things down. "They seem nice." Soap commented, smiling.

Nikolai snorted, "Of course they are - they're Loyalists. They carry no grudge against us."

Price only nodded, saying nothing. Soap made himself comfortable, tossing his bag underneath a bed, flopping down onto the soft mattress, and crying, "Dibs!" Price shook his head at the younger captain's childish antics. After a moment someone's stomach growled. Nikolai stared at his belly before murmuring, "Let's go ask for food."

Soap snickered and followed him as he left the room.

XxXxXxX

About half an hour later found them carefully eating tacos with the rest of the base. They had conveniently walked into the mess hall right as dinner started. Soap had sat with a few friendly soldiers and made conversation with them. Within a few minutes he had learned that Lev had yet to break a bone and Alek had had the chicken pox the year before. "So what brings you here? Besides your hurt men?" a curious Lev asked.

Soap swallowed before answering, "We found our injured men in Grozny," he began simply, "and Nikolai said that his cousin's base was here, so we decided to wing it and come here."

Alek smirked, "Didn't think we'd be so nice, did ya?"

Soap bashfully shook his head, "We're also trying to find two members of our task force, as well as bring down Makarov."

Lev's eyes widened, "You are trying to kill Makarov? So are we!"

Alek smacked him on the back of the head as Soap chuckled. He discerned Alek as the brighter one of their friendship, if not by much.

"What are the names of the other people you are looking for?" Alek asked suddenly.

Soap looked at him, slowly deciding that it wouldn't hurt to tell, "Well their call signs are Roach and Ghost. Ghost always wears a skull balaclava, and Roach is very-" he broke off as he noticed their shocked expressions. "What." he asked quietly, leaning forward.

"They were here." Lev whispered.


Sorry for all the grammatical errors and words used repeatedly in this one. I can't help it when I write long things. :3 It's unavoidable for me. And the cliff-hanger was supposed to be dramatic. But I probably failed epically. :P Ah, well. Hope you enjoyed! :D