Leaning back in the chair, listening to the legs creak under his weight, Andrei Bortsov breathed out slowly, plumes of smoke rising from his nostrils, courtesy of the cigarette he had been slowly smoking for the past fifteen minutes. Glancing around the crowded comm room, Andrei let his gaze flick from computer screen to computer screen, and though there was little chance he would notice any difference, it was at least a distraction from the constant yammering of the other soldiers in the room.
While the room provided some relief from the cold, it was all part of the overall plan to lure the enemy into a false sense of security. Andrei wasn't sure where Rodion was getting his information, but so far it had proven to be right...time and time again. And Andrei certainly wasn't going to complain, but it did raise a few suspicions about his compatriot. However, that said, Andrei was not so stupid to voice such suspicions. While he was far stronger than Rodion, he didn't have any of the anger and venom that the other carried with him.
"Sir!" one of the soldiers called, pointing to a computer screen, which was, from what Andrei could tell, registering motion detection on the bow of the ship. "They're here."
"Order all troops to hold back. We don't want to give our...friends a greeting just yet."
As the soldier relayed the orders, Andrei extinguished the cigarette in the too full ash tray on the nearby table as he stood up. He picked up the AK-47 that had been leaning against his chair and glanced around the room. The soldiers were all getting ready, but they all knew there was no hurry. They still had a bit of time…
"We want them to get as far onto the boat as possible," Andrei stated flatly, reiterating the orders. "When they do, we circle around and capture. Kill only if necessary."
()
As her hands flew across the keyboard, Angela dared a quick glance out the window of the helicopter. She saw nothing but white and grey clouds, but quickly turned her focus back to the computer. The drone was buzzing around the ship, and for now, she was trying to keep it covered within the clouds and flurries of snow while still maintaining some semblance of visibility.
"Ship's deader than my aunt's taste in fashion," Alvarez muttered.
"Songbird, you seeing anything?"
"Nothing. A few guys at the back, but the guys on the front went back into the main hold of the ship."
"This doesn't seem...too easy?" Church asked quietly into the comm. He and Ghost had boarded the ship at the back, and for now, were taking cover behind tarp and snow covered cargo. "I'm not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, but it's like they're letting us on here."
"Aye," Soap muttered back, daring a quick glance from behind the cover of a weighted down box. "Give them a bit. See if they just needed a break from the cold."
"I'd like a fucking break from the cold," Alvarez grumbled, shifting his weight slightly as he adjusted the rifle against his shoulder.
"Alvie, shut up," Church snapped. "Keep talking and they'll shoot us like one-winged ducks."
"Songbird?"
"Just a few guys milling around. Doesn't look like they're really worried about security. Church is right, you may want to-" Angela stopped mid-sentence, her gaze momentarily frozen on the feedback from the drone. "Shit! Get to cover. Your six is getting crowded and fast!"
Glancing over his shoulder, Soap saw what appeared to be soldiers climbing up and over the edge of the ship. Looking back up towards the middle of the ship, where the charges were supposed to be placed, Soap felt his breath catch in his throat, the icy air biting at his lungs. More soldiers had joined their compatriots along the catwalks that rimmed the communication tower of the ship. And there was no doubting that they were ready for, and looking for, combat.
"Soap! Get out of there! They're right on you!" Angela practically screamed over the comm. "I can try to help you get a path to your nine, but Church and Ghost are almost pinned down!"
At the other end of the ship, there was the unmistakable crack of gunfire. Gritting his teeth, Soap glanced over at Alvarez, who was pressed against one of the boxes as firmly as he could, trying to take as much cover as possible. There was a stack of boxes between them and the soldiers, but between the soldiers on the catwalks and the soldiers flanking them, the boxes would be little more than splinters, smoke, and provide as much cover as tissue paper.
"Get out of here?!" Alvarez hissed. "Is she out of her fucking mind?!"
Soap said nothing. His mind was racing as he tried to figure out a way to get himself and the rest of the team off this damn, metal tomb. But the soldiers were drawing closer, despite the combined best efforts of both Soap and Alvarez to keep them at bay. The gunfire from the enemies on the catwalks made any attempt at repelling the enemies to their rear a risk to getting a bullet, or one or fifteen, to the back of the head.
"Shite!" Soap hissed, reloading his assault rifle.
"Ghost! Your left! Your left!" Angela yelled, trying to keep the drone steady as the winds whipped up. The drone tipped and bowed, making aiming the small, mounted machine gun almost as dangerous to Ghost and Church as it was to the enemy soldiers.
"Bloody fuck!" Ghost snarled, firing off two quick bursts of gunfire at an oncoming soldier.
He and Church weren't having to deal with enemies on their six, but the seemingly constant rain of gunfire coming down on them from the catwalk and then to their right made moving from their cover nothing short of suicide. Looking up, Ghost looked at the drone as it circled around as Angela guided it away from the enemy fire that was trying to take it out of the air.
"Soap! Can you hold them off-"
"They're right on us, Songbird! There's no holding these bastards off!"
Her heartbeat was pounding in her head, and Angela could hear the pilot of the helicopter grumbling curses under his breath in between listening to the updates as Soap shouted them over the comm. The pilot guided the helicopter around in a wide circle, far enough away from the ship for Angela to see any real details, but close enough to still see the outline of the metal behemoth.
But Angela could see the details. She was desperately trying to keep the drone steady while firing at enemy soldiers, and then guide it away fast enough to keep the drone intact. Already a few bullets had pinged against the metal body of the airborne support, and already a preliminary error had began to buzz on the laptop.
"Songbird! We can't get these guys off our nine as long as those bastards on the catwalk keep trying to take potshots at us!" Ghost shouted.
"Moving the drone!" Angela replied. "But it's probably already smoking by this point. Try to keep them from shooting this flying tin can."
"We're trying to keep ourselves from getting shot!" Church yelled.
Frowning, Angela set her jaw and guided the drone back to the rear of the ship. She could see the soldiers on the catwalk, and she took aim at them. Again, the drone bucked and bowed under the abuse from the wind, but Angela managed to get a few bursts of gunfire. She saw two soldiers collapse, but they weren't dead. Just injured.
"Dammit," Angela hissed under her breath. She glared at the computer screen, focusing fiercely on the display. As if she could help guide and keep the drone safe through sheer will. "How the hell did so many guys manage to-"
"Shit, shit, shit!" the pilot suddenly yelled. "They found us!"
The helicopter suddenly swerved sharply, and Angela gripped the laptop tightly as she was yanked to the side of her seat. Beneath her feet, she could hear bullets cracking against the bottom of the helicopter, leaving the metallic ringing echoing through the body of the chopper. Another alarm suddenly blared from the laptop, and Angela forced her weight against her shoulder, wincing at the stab of pain that shot through it. Looking at the computer screen, Angela felt her blood go cold.
The feedback screen was completely black, save for the words, "Connection Lost".
"No…," Angela hissed, frantically keying through a few command lines, desperately trying to re-establish any sort of connection with the drone. Even if it was just video. Even if she couldn't get the gun back online. Even if she could just...see what was going on.
"Songbird-"
"Soap, They got the drone-" Angela yelled hurriedly, glancing at the map of the ship. Maybe she could guide them off the thing via audio.
"Songbird-"
"You won't be able-"
"Songbird! They-"
"Surrender, you brazen interlopers!"
Angela froze at the sound of the new, foreign voice. It was definitely Russian, no doubting the accent, but it was close. Too close.
"Soap…?" Angela asked hoarsely, her voice barely registering as a whisper.
"Sorry, luv," Soap murmured. "They got us."
Feeling her pulse suddenly ratchet up, Angela buzzed stared at the computer screen, the empty feedback window seemed more damning than before.
Back on the ship, Soap glared up at the man who had strode out onto the catwalk. Black hair, wide shoulders, and taller than almost all the soldiers there, Soap recognized him from the photos in the debriefing.
Andrei Bortsov.
Angela was still trying to talk to Soap, trying to give him advice that was absolutely useless at this point. Unfortunately, by this point, her voice was little more than comforting.
There was no mistaking it now. Andrei and his men had been waiting for them. There was no way that that many soldiers could have flanked them so quickly and so efficiently without somebody having known what was going on. Soap was already running through the different possibilities of how this plan had gone to Hell in a handbasket, but right now, none of them really mattered.
What mattered was all the damn guns pointed at them. Soap heard one of the enemy soldiers behind him smirk and mutter something in Russian to his friend, who seemed to find whatever had been said just as funny. Glaring down at snow-covered metal floor of the ship, Soap turned his gaze back up to Andrei. The man was eyeing them like a hawk, and then his gaze flicked down as soldiers walked a very frustrated and angry Ghost and Church across the ship and into view of Andrei.
Both Ghost and Church had been stripped of their weapons, and both had their hands over their heads. Ghost shot Soap a look, and all Soap could do was shake his head slightly before turning his attention back to Andrei when he heard the man speak again.
"I will commend you four on your...bravery," Andrei said loudly. Though he was using a speaker system, his voice still seemed to boom through the speakers. "Even if it was probably the stupidest display of bravery I have seen in my life. I-"
Andrei suddenly stopped as another soldier approached him. Soap watched them closely, and though he knew there was no way he could possibly hope to hear what was being said, the alternative was to focus on the barrel of the assault rifle pressed between his shoulder blades. It was just a matter of choosing the lesser of two evils.
"Soap!"
Angela's sudden shriek in Soap's ear made him wince momentarily, but whatever pain he felt from the sudden stab of noise in his ear was overridden by the unmistakable panic in Angela's voice. Before he could ask what had happened, Soap heard the loud boom and he turned his gaze back to where their drop off point had been. Barely above the treeline, he could see the helicopter suddenly jerk erratically, smoke billowing out of the now badly damaged tail.
"...fuck no," Alvarez mumbled, watching as the helicopter suddenly dipped sharply out of view.
Watching with what appeared to be mild interest, Andrei glanced back down at the captured soldiers. Their expressions, or at least, the forced attempt to mask them, told Andrei all he needed to know. There would be no rescue. There would be no help.
"I do apologize for the loss of your helicopter," Andrei called down mockingly. "However, I am going to need you four to stay for quite some time, and I believe that helicopter would have only been a nuisance at this rate."
