My palms were against my forehead and my arms supported against my knees. Everything felt so unreal, yet everything around me went as if nothing had happened. The soldiers kept loading things up to the C-17, laughing and talking as they climbed up their planes while my world was crumbling into pieces.
I wished I could be as ignorant as they seemed to be. Just thinking about the incident had me completely derailed. I knew there must exist a logical explanation, and I tried very hard into finding any, but I just...couldn't. None of this had any sense.
The news were quick to reveal his schizophrenic condition and blame it on that. But I knew very well that wasn't it. That is never it.
I felt I had failed him in every way; as a partner, as a colleague, as a friend... My mind tortures me thinking I should've known something was not right. That I should've noticed something was different. I've been so distracted with war and all that comes along with it that I completely abandoned him. And even though he joked about enjoying my absence, I knew it wasn't exactly like that.
The scratching sound of someone stopping in front of me disturbed my thoughts, but I didn't need to lift my head to know to whom it belonged. Since the moment the shocking news was revealed, I had to step away. I couldn't deal with anything, I had to be isolated and be left alone with just my torturing thoughts for a while. I just...couldn't understand.
I suddenly felt our lives were now determined on which one of us was going to die first. I wished with all my strength that someone else was here instead of me. I masochistically fantasized with the idea of me still working at the lab.
The only thing that made me curse myself for even thinking about it was the fact that I met Simon thanks to it. I knew very well this was the only way for us to meet. But even by taking those things into account, I felt myself regretfully wishing it had never happen.
"I don't think Macmillan made the right decision by bringing me here" I muttered in a volume barely audible for any human being. "I couldn't even keep my friend alive"
I heard him sigh and I just closed my eyes, waiting for a deserving scold. I felt the back of the bench move as he climbed up on top of it to sit beside me.
"I wasn't convinced very much when you first joined, even by knowing you were...you know, different. I sincerely thought you were not qualified for this and that Macmillan had gone mad by even thinking of you as a choice, but...Back in the S.A.S, when I used to train SEALS for the Americans, I noticed that those soldiers who were able to put up with the training had the same look in their eyes. Those who endured were those fighting for something else than themselves. Something... greater. Either by wanting to prove something, or protecting someone; all of them selfish actions, not just the mere satisfaction of passing a test and becoming a member of the renowned seals" He said. My eyes explored his face before moving to his hands as he played nervously with his fingers.
"I was...an arse with you on your first day not because I didn't like you beforehand. I was testing your strength as a person. Macmillan said you had the spirit to become a great soldier, that you had everything there just...waiting for someone to help you take it out"
"Ten minutes before departure!" a voice echoed throughout the whole base, making us both look towards its source. The anticipation was quick to spark in my stomach and anxiety appeared again like a forgotten lover. Ghost turned to me once more and lifted his sunglasses to uncover his light blue eyes.
"So, If you ask me, yeah... I think the old man made the greatest decision by letting you in" he continued, making me form a slight smile in my lips. "Don't lash yourself for what happened to him, or for whatever made him do it. I'm sure there must exist a reason for this, and I promise you I'll help you discover it when we get back. Alright?"
He stared deeply into my eyes as he waited for my answer. I formed a small and soft smile before nodding in agreement and sliding my hand towards him. "Thank you" I quietly replied. I saw how his lips tugged up in a smile before he stood up, still with my hand in his own, pulling me to stand up with him. I then erased the distance between us and wrapped my arms around him, feeling him do the same with me.
"Be careful, Simon" I muttered as I dug my fingers in his uniform. "Please, be careful"
He moved back just enough so our eyes could meet as he pulled down his mask to hold it below his chin. His light blue eyes explored my face as he moved his fingers to remove a strand of hair loose in my face. "Just wait for me. I'll wait for you" he whispered, soft steam escaping his mouth. He then leaned down towards me, placing his lips softly on top of mine's. My hand slid to his neck and held him right where I wanted him to be the rest of my life.
I couldn't say I felt comfortable with my 'new' team, but at least none of us were talking. Well, at least not to me. They were just... a dozen scared faces, except for Capt. Cage of course, he seemed more confident than confidence itself.
After the airplane dropped us on land, the walk towards the safehouse began and the anticipation grew stronger in the air. We were all in position, only Shepherd's order was needed to initiate the attack.
Some soldiers were taking cover behind trees and bushes, and some, me for example, scouting the place with snipers. I scouted all the top floor and disappointingly saw no signs of Makarov. My sight was just passing through the lower windows of the house when I noticed a group of soldiers heading outside the house.
"There is movement outside the house" I reported as I watched five to eight ultranationalist exit through the door. "What are you doing?" I murmured as I fixed my scope to clear the image. Three soldiers appeared into sight, the three of them being pushed out of the house by the ultranationalists themselves. My finger slowly slid to the trigger and rested on it. My eye then bounced from one side to another, counting the heads I would have to put down to save them.
"Captain Cage, are you seeing this?" I asked when I received no answer to my previous report, quickly glancing at my range finder, finding out I was about 300 meters away from them.
"I see them" He replied.
"Who are they?" A soldier asked.
"I don't know. I heard about a group of guys from another division going M.I.A. I think it might be them, or well, the ones who survived" was Cage's reply. My eyes jumped back to the soldiers who were dragged towards the front of the house, their hands tied behind their backs and their cries silenced with a dirty rag.
"Captain, what do we do?" I asked while a horrible feeling kept sending electric shocks through my body.
"Hold your fire, Lieutenant. We are not here for them" was his simple reply, making my jaw drop in utter astonishment.
"Sir?" I exclaimed in confusion. "Please don't tell me we are going to let them die for the possibility of finding one man?" I rambled in return. The moment we are willing to sacrifice the very lives we are 'fighting' to protect for the sake of a mission, you know the war has gone too far. I watched as the ultranationalists positioned the three soldiers under their fire range, making them kneel by kicking them in the legs.
"Orders are orders, Lieutenant" He answered with so much relaxation that I felt my blood boiling in anger at his cold reply.
'Fuck the orders' I spat to myself. My finger was ready to pull the trigger when the ultranationalists opened fire and the lifeless bodies of the soldiers immediately fell on the ground. I let out the air retained in my lungs as I closed my eyes while removing my finger from the trigger. I crawled back and sat against a tree, closing my eyes and bumping my head against it. I didn't like having that feeling of impotence haunting me. I had enough with Wheathley already.
All the comms went silent again. I felt suspended in time as the images of their execution repeated endlessly in my head. It is an... evolutive curse sometimes.
"Let's advance towards the house, Shepherd has authorized the attack. Remember, we are not taking hostages." Cage ordered and I opened my eyes in confusion. Just ten minutes of difference? I scoffed in pure rage before grabbing a bunch of dirt and leaves and throwing them to the air in anger.
"I'm moving out" I notified with a stiff voice.
"Remember, engage Makarov on sight" He commanded and the simple act of hearing his voice annoyed me to no end.
"I should engage you on sight" I muttered to myself as I advanced through the tree line.
Just when we were reaching the house, I stopped. Something wasn't right. Everything was quiet, too quiet. Suddenly one man screamed in the distance and at least a dozen ultranationalist appeared out of cover, starting the fight.
We all ran to cover ourselves with what we could before starting the crossfire. Advancing towards the house took a lot of effort, it took us at least half an hour to neutralize the ultranationalists outside. The sniper kept reporting he had not spotted Makarov as we moved to breach every entry to the house we could find and as soon as we breached in, the house cleaning began.
"Shepherd, this is Ghost. No sign of Makarov, I repeat, No sign of Makarov." he reported, and my heart found a comforting ease knowing that he was alright and the worst was over.
"We are still in housekeeping here, but there is no sign of him either. Captain Price, any luck in Afghanistan?" I asked as I climbed the stairs to the upper floor, signaling the other soldiers to start breaching the doors while Capt. Cage directed the breaching on the first floor.
"Plenty. At least fifty hired guns here, but no sign of Makarov. Perhaps our Intel was off" he answered and I couldn't help but form a mocking smile in return. 'Perhaps we should have done it as I suggested on the first place' I thought.
"Well, the quality of the Intel's about to change. This safehouse is a bloody gold mine" Ghost reported next.
"Sadly we don't share your luck, Ghost. This safehouse is empty" I announced as I entered the last upper room we cleared. Gesturing the others to clear out the room.
"Copy that. Ghost, have your team collect everything you can for an operations playbook. Names, contacts, places, everything." Shepherd ordered.
"We are already on it, sir. Makarov will have nowhere to run" he answered, and I found myself smirking at his undeniable lack of humility.
"That's the idea. I'm bringing up the extraction force, E.T.A in five minutes. Get that Intel. Shepherd out" was his last report before everything went quiet again. I turned towards the exit and saw Capt. Cage walking in with two rifles on each hand.
"Captain?" I frowned.
He just stared at me for a few seconds before handling a rifle to me. "We need to hold the house until the extraction team arrives" he said. "Pick a window. I'm sure they'll be here in any minute now" he added before walking towards a window on the right side of the room. I gave him one ignored nod before turning around and heading for the opposite window to guard the other half of the house.
'The faster we finish here, the faster we can go home' I repeated in my head as I readied myself for the enemy. It wasn't long until the helicopters appeared in the distance, deploying a dozen of ultranationalists each. I drew an imaginary line through the forest, setting it as the limit they would be permitted to advance.
"Task Force, this is Price. More Makarov's men just arrived at the boneyard. Soap, Cover me. I'm gonna slot that guy over there and use his radio to tap into their comms. Lieutenants, we are going silent for a few minutes. Good luck. Price out." I heard him say as I fired my rifle, putting to sleep every ultranationalist that came near the line.
The shooting felt endless. I didn't even had time to reload properly, so I had to switch weapons everytime I didn't have a breathing. The other soldiers were holding the house from the lower level, so we had the whole house secured. The ones who managed to escape our limits were quickly neutralized by the other members of the team.
"How much until the extraction team arrives?!" I shouted my question to Capt. Cage, stopping for a brief second to reload my weapon before resuming the shooting.
"Twenty minutes!" he shouted back. .
"Ghost! Come in Ghost! Wildfire!" Price's loud voice unexpectedly rang in my ear, making my heart spark in anguish and stopping my shooting, allowing a couple hostiles to escape the thin line I had drawn for them and heading towards the house.
The following comms were not clear enough for the shootings in the background. I pressed my earpiece in an attempt to make out what they were saying, but just felt my anguish strengthening with each second I couldn't understand him.
"Do not trust Shepherd! I repeat, do not trust Shepherd!" he warned in shouts clear enough for me to understand, too clear to ignore.
I felt a cold electric shock run throughout my body, and I instantly turned around to warn , but what I found next was something I should have expected, something that I should have foreseen.
"What a great day isn't it?" He smirked, his gun right in front of my face.
I remained still while Cage moved towards the door, shutting it close with his leg and sealing us inside. He then flickered his gun, ordering me to move away from the window and step further into the room.
The shooting continued its course outside. Cage then came closer to me, still pointing at me with his gun as he took away my weapon, knife and gun, throwing them away from my reach.
I still examined him very carefully as he stepped back. I wanted to believe I could take him out, but given our current state, I was afraid that wasn't going to be possible.
Surprisingly, he placed the safety back on his gun and lowered his arm while forming a sick smile on his face. I tried to resist my urge to frown, but I'm sure my confusion didn't go unnoticed. He then removed the magazine from the gun and placed it on top of the table.
"I've been wanting to do this since our last meeting" he revealed as he placed the empty gun on the table. "But not like this. Pulling a trigger is way too easy" he added while turning around to face me once more. "There is no emotion in it. But this?" He continued whilst showing me his hands while walking towards me. "This is real"
And before I could even say anything, he launched a strike at me. I did my best to block everything he charged at me, but I was failing. Something changed, something is different. This was not the same Captain I fought the other day. He was more aggressive, more lethal.
He managed to hit my ribs with a great strength more than once, and it felt like he succeed into breaking one or two. I kicked him away to the table, letting out a loud grunt and shrinking from the raw pain that was coming from my ribs.
He was onto me in to time. All I managed by pushing him was hurting myself even further. I continued to block his attacks, specially the one's directed to my chest cage. I'm more than sure that he figured all he need is to collapse my lungs.
After several tries, I successfully grabbed his arm and thew him to the ground, letting out a strong shriek of pain. He stood up faster than I expected and charged towards me, crashing me against the wall to then launch several kicks to my ribs, but thankfully, I successfully managed to stop them with my hands.
I grabbed his torso and ran the opposite direction, throwing us both onto the ground. I was about to start throwing everything I had at him when he pushed me away with his legs and my back collided against the floor. I groaned from the growing pain in my ribs and crawled to stand up again. He then grabbed me and crashed me against the wall once more. I hit him with my elbows to then kick him on his stomach before grabbing him and pushing him against the same wall, but he took advantage of the momentum and threw my against a window, making me break into the glass. I screamed in pain as some of the broken pieces pierced into my abdomen, tinting the frame and some loose pieces of glass with my blood.
I glanced down to see the large pieces buried in my diaphragm and then noticed a sharp large piece of glass still intact from the hit. I wrapped my trembling hand around it and put pressure until I managed to break it and immediately hid it near my stomach.
"You know, I have to admit Dr. Wheathley had some balls when he decided to wipe out the program in order to stop what we wanted to do" I heard him say as I heard the cracks from the glasses in the ground, letting me know he was approaching me.
My heart ached at the memory of Wheathley, even more now that the reason of his death was revealed. A soft whimpering escaped my lips, and I held my urge to cry and scream all at once. A loud crack came from behind me, notifying me he was standing right behind me. I pulled out from the glass and slashed the glass against him, managing just to cut his uniform. I then tried to dig the glass in his chest, but he was quick to dodge it and grabbed my bleeding hand to hold prevent any other attack. I squeezed his neck with my right hand, pushing him backwards before moving my leg behind his knee and making him crash harshly against the floor.
I climbed on top of him as he continued holding my both hands to resist the glass that was just centimeters away from his neck. My hand was bleeding like a faucet as the glass cut deeper into my hand from the force. I felt my muscles in fire. They were quivering by fear, by rage, by fighting against his desire to live.
I hit my hand, stabbing my other hand in the process to force the way down of the knife. He soon pushed my hand back again, but I noticed a tiny part managed to get through.
I began to hit my hand again, hit after hit, feeling my other hand loosing sensitivity with each self-stab and I didn't stop until the glass had pierced all the way into his neck. His mouth gagged in his own blood. I stared at him, and didn't stop pushing the glass until I saw life slip out of his eyes.
Then my trembling and bleeding hand felt safe enough to release the glass, and I sat on his dead body. I was fighting arduously to not lose consciousness in the spot. I stared down at my uniform. I was loosing too much blood. At this rate I would be dead in less than an hour. I crawled towards my rifle, and held it tight in my leg to reload it with a new mag. Then placed a gun in my holster. I had to make the bullets count, because I wouldn't be able to reload anymore.
I stood up as I could and stumbled down the stairs, falling harshly on the remaining steps to finally land on the floor. I saw one of the soldiers turning around to aim at me, but I quickly fired at him immediately letting out a loud groan when the sharp pain in my ribs grew even stronger from the fall. With trembling hands and a painful gasp, I used the rifle to help me get on my feet again and stumbled towards the kitchen, holding my grip into everything I could and painting everything with blood as the others killed each other outside.
I needed to close the bleeding wounds in my stomach, and the only thing that crossed my mind was cauterization. So I searched for a lighter inside the drawers, but only found a box of matches. I placed it inside one of my pockets to then stumble towards the dead soldier and scavenge everything I could from him. I grabbed all his extra mags and placed them inside my molle backpack.
This was quickly turning into a battle royale and the necessity of getting out of there was now vital, so I just shot everyone I saw as I headed towards the woods, leaving a trace of blood behind of me, my own blood. I ran and ran into the woods until I couldn't run anymore and just crashed onto the ground.
"This is Wildfire. Does anyone copy?" I fought to say as I resisted the urge to faint from the blood loss. Everything was becoming blurry and the pain I once felt was beginning to fade. "Please...Please..."