Chapter One
Ryuji took a drag on his cigarette as the jets flew over him. Haru wouldn't approve, but he fortunately only smoked on missions and on base, so Haru never found out about his newfound habit. Yes, in his time, he picked up a bit of a habit for smoking, mostly because of the stress from the incompetence of the military and the stress of the lifestyle it brought. Fortunately, Ryuji was relatively able to control his habit, smoking only in the most stressful of situations, like right now, as he, Soap, and Roach hung from an ice wall just below a russian airbase. Roach was TF141's newest hire, a Scottish SAS Sergeant with some combat experience, who was transferred to TF141 after the disastrous Operation Kingfish. Most of what happened that day was stricken from the records, all that wasn't was that Price had stayed behind to ensure the rest of the SAS and TF141 could exfil. A year later, Price was still labeled MIA.
"Breaks over, Roach, let's go." Soap stated.
"Yes sir." Roach stated. Ryuji could tell he was young, probably only a few years older than himself, probably even more scared than he was during his time in Verdansk. The team shimmied along the wall, keeping their bodies pinned to the ice as they moved along. The worst part was climbing the wall, not pinning against it. Sure, his leg was acting up when he had himself in such a tight squeeze, but at least he wast pulling himself up onto fragile ice as his leg acted up. Speaking of fragile ice, Roach nearly fell off the wall, both Price and Ryuji had to pull him up.
"Christ, be more careful Roach." Price gasped. "How's the leg, Skull?" Ryuji kicked the snow.
"Nothing a little bit of sneaking around a military base can't fix." Ryuji chuckled. Soap nodded. The team moved on, preparing their weapons as they approached a weak point in the fence. They had some fair equipment, in all honesty. The most boring was the MK14 EBR, just a semi auto rifle with a scope and a suppressor, nothing special. Then there was the ACR, that was certainly an interesting one. For starters, it used what were called Duplex Rounds, where two bullets would be loaded into a single cartridge, increasing the possibility of hitting your target and actually killing them. It was also designed to be adaptable for any situation, meaning the heartbeat sensor and suppressor on the rifle were not going to hinder it in any major way. Of course, Ryuji would prefer the simple elegance of an M4A1, or the Kilo 141 Weapon system, hell, he'd even settle for Type 20 or even a Type 89 but he would take what he could get. Once they entered the compound, the team split off, Soap preparing to be overwatch, Ryuji going off to set C4 on some fuel tanks as a plan b, and Roach going off to do the real work and secure their objective, a crashed satellite's ACS module. Ryuji slowly made his way through the airfield, dodging Russian patrols as he went to set the charges. This was in total contrast to Roach, who had been killing everything in his path.
"Very subtle, Roach." Ryuji murmured.
"What do you want me to do? Not kill them, Skull?" Roach responded, slight interference in the radio due to the snowstorms.
"If possible, yes, Roach." Ryuji responded. "How the hell'd you earn that nickname anyways?"
"Cause I can't die." Roach answered with a chuckle. "No matter how hard you try, nothing short of fire will kill me, like a roach."
"Or maybe it's because he's an annoying pest, like a roach." Soap joked. "He does kinda look like one." Roach groaned in response.
"Well how'd you earn yours?" Roach asked.
"It's from my time in Verdansk." Ryuji explained. "I bought this skull charm off a local seller, kept it on my rifle for luck. It eventually became part of my identity, turning me into Skull when I was transferred to ARM-4. Infact, I have it on my rifle right now."
"Pretty cool." Roach stated. "What about you, Captain? Do you have a nickname you use at all?" Heard Skull and the others call you Soap during the briefing."
"That's classified." Soap hissed. Ryuji knew one thing perfectly about the enigmatic Soap, and that was never to ask about the name. Roach would learn that soon enough. Ryuji got to the fuel tanks, setting C4 charges on the lower sides of the tanks. Originally, the plan was to use something XRK was developing called C5, but that fell through after MacMillian saw the price tag.
"Charges are set, Soap, moving towards the satellite." Ryuji informed Soap.
"Negative, stay across from it." Soap stated. "I'm heading that direction, we need a sharpshooter."
"Solid copy." Ryuji responded, letting his ACR drop onto his sling as he pulled his MK14 off his back. Peeking through the scope, switching the thermal mode on, Ryuji was met with a sight that wasn't too surprising. Soap was standing surrendered, surrounded by Russian forces, with Roach above him on a catwalk.
"Roach, you know what to do." Ryuji stated as he flicked his rifle's safety off. The fuel tank detonated, shaking the earth as a plume of flames burst into the air. Ryuji began making his shots, killing one hostile with one shot. Soon enough, the storm subsided, leaving Ryuji stuck with the standard optic. Still though, he continued to keep his comrades safe, taking shot after shot at the Russians.
"Skull, get on one of those snowmobiles." Soap started, tossing a machine pistol to Ryuji.
"Copy that." Ryuji said with a grin as he caught the firearm. He climbed onto one of the snowmobiles, flicking it on and revving the engine.
"Stay close fellas." Ryuji grinned as he launched it forward. The three special forces operatives rushed down the mountains, dodging trees and lodges as they fired on Russian troops following or ahead of them.
"We don't have much longer." The man in charge of their extract stated. "We're getting close to bingo fuel, may have to make a pit stop at Yokohama Airbase at this rate."
"We're close, be there ETA two minutes." Soap spat into his radio.
"Yeah so keep your pants on." Roach added.
"Lock it up, Roach." Ryuji hissed.
"Yes sir." Roach sighed. The mobiles pushed forward, leaving them rushing down a slope, propelling them to a mobile airbase the C130 they planned to use as extract waited. Roach even did a trick before landing, spinning the mobile 360 degrees as he did a flip in midair, landing perfectly as the mobile came to a slow halt.
"Impressive, but stupid." Soap stated, acknowledging the trick. "At least we got the package."
James Ramirez was a simple man, well, not exactly. He had a deep family history, with many intricacies and relocations. As it stood, James was a first generation migrant college student, studying engineering at Virginia Tech. He was enrolled in the Corps Of Cadets there, with two main goals as to why. The first was so he could actually get in, the school he chose being known for it's tough entry requirements, which were heavily loosened if you joined the Corps. The second was a scholarship opportunity. The Army National Guard offered to give him a full ride scholarship, if he agreed to attend VT as an Army ROTC student in the Corps program. He was only in his first year, meaning he had no rights or freedom, aside from what he did outside the droms. Currently, he was walking with his civilian student friends to the ever so famous West End dining hall, the main reason why the school ranked so high in campus food.
"You hear that we're pulling troops out of Urzikstan and Afghanistan?" Alex, a political science major, asked the group.
"Yeah, the entire Corps knows." James responded. "A Lot of the Army guys are relieved, which means most of us are staying home."
"I heard, apparently they're not going home though, they're being prepared for something else, not sure what." Max, a philosophy major, added. "You know anything, James?"
"Not yet, they'd tell us if they wanted us to know." Jame responded. James's phone began ringing as he finished. James stopped walking, checking the caller ID. 'General Shepherd' it read. Great. James answered the phone.
"Good afternoon General Shepherd, New Cadet Ramirez, J.E. M-25, reports." James sounded off.
"At ease, Ramirez, you'll want to be for what about to tell you." Shepherd opened. "Effective immediately, you are now a Private First Class in the United States Army Rangers. At 0600 hundred tomorrow, you are expected to be at Arcadia County, Virginia for active duty. You will report to Sergeant Folley and Specialist Torres. It is critical that you get to Arcadia County ASAP."
"Sir, if you don't mind me asking, what's happening?" James asked, fear building on his face.
"We're going to war, Ramirez. And we aren't attacking." Shepherd stated. "Dismissed." The call ended, Ramirez felt light headed as he put his phone back in his pocket.
"James, you okay man?" Alex asked, guiding him to a bench. "You look like you just ate your dog."
"You need to get out of Virginia." James responded. "Something's happening, I don't know what, but something's wrong."
"Why, what's happening?" Max asked.
"I was just transferred to the actual Army, we're at war now." James responded.
"We're already at war, why is this so different?" Alex asked.
"James, we're not going to be invaded, are we?" Max asked.
"I don't know, but I don't think you'd like the answer if I did." James stated. It was clear that they were, but James didn't want to say it, he didn't want to believe it.
James stepped off the bus and took a look at the picture in his hand. It showed a blonde man with a Specialist's insignia on his vest, with a smegah wrapped around his neck. His eyes were, oddly enough, purple, and his face was somewhat squared off, making him look a bit more like a Marine than a soldier. James wandered around the FOB, trying to figure out where he was supposed to be as soldiers and national guardsmen hectically ran around, delivering weapons and equipment to waiting squads and platoons.
"Private First Class, over here!" a voice called out. Turning to face the voice, James saw the man from his picture waving him down, surrounded by several soldiers in various states of combat dress.
"Sergeant Folley, Specialist Torres, Private Fir-" James began before Torres cut him off.
"No, none of that sounding off BS right now, Ramirez, it wastes too much time." Torres groaned. "I'm Torres, that's Foley, those two are Dunn and Morgan, welcome to Hunter Two-One, glad to have you on board."
"Hope you do well, our last PFC was frickin amazing, you have some big boots to fill." Dunn stated. Wait, last PFC? Did something happen?
"Uh, if you don't mind me asking, what happened to the last PFC?" James asked, a hint of nervousness in his voice.
"Well, he was transferred to the CIA, set to infiltrate a terror cell." Torres answered. "In short, he's why we're here right now."
"He is?" James asked, what did this guy do? James would regret asking that soon.
"You didn't hear about what happened at Zakhaev International? Well, he was there to infiltrate Makarov's little terrorist club. Turns out, he wasn't so good at hiding his identity." Foley responded. It was clear now what was going on.
A/N: Chapter one done! That one was mostly so we could get to know what kind of people my Ramirez and Roach are and get started with the story. Yes, I am skipping the Afghanistan missions, mostly because I wanted to get to the good stuff faster, but I will make up for it as much as I can in the future. Also, chapters actual content from here on out will be a bit longer than what I usually do, probably 3,000-4,000 words, and will likely be updated quickly. I'm excited for this, and I hope you all are too! As usual, hope you enjoyed and have a great day!
Bonus: Personnel Files
Name: Ryuji Sakamoto
Rank: Staff Sergeant
Specialization: Close Quarters Combat, Breaching, Rifleman, JSDF Ranger Qualified Specializations
Callsigns: Skull, Bravo 0-5
Age: 21
Height: 5'8"
DoB: 7/3/00
Affiliation: JSDF (Former). Task Force 141, SAS Division
Education: Highschool
Family: Haru Okumura (wife), Mayumi Sakamoto (Mother), Nishi Sakamoto (Father, imprisoned on numerous abuse and larceny related charges)
Name: Gary Sanderson
Rank: Sergeant
Specialization: Close Quarters Combat, Rifleman
Callsigns: Roach. Bravo 0-3
Age: 28
Height: 5'11"
DoB: 3/30/93
Affiliation: Task Force 141, SAS Division
Education: Highschool
Family: no known living relatives
Name: Micheal Torres
Rank: Specialist (E-4)
Specialization: Combat Engineering, Rifleman
Callsigns: Hunter 2-1-3
Age: 25
DoB: 12/1/96
Affiliation: USMC (former), US Army Rangers
Education: Highschool, University of Delaware B.A. in Engineering
Family: Robert Torres (Father, Adoptive), Martha Torres (Mother, Adoptive), Emily Torres (Sister, Adoptive), Joseph Torres (Brother, Adoptive), Jacob Torres (Brother, Adoptive), John Torres (Brother, Adoptive), [REDACTED] (Biological Mother), [REDACTED] (Biological Father)
Name: James Evaristo Ramirez
Rank: Private First Class (E-3)
Specialization: Rifleman
Callsigns: Hunter 2-1-4
Age: 18
DoB: 9/14/03
Affiliation: Virginia Tech Corps of Cadets (former), US Army National Guard (former), US Army Rangers
Education: Highschool, enrolled in Virginia Tech B.A. in Engineering, expected to graduate may 2025
Family: Elena Ramirez (Mother), Favio Ramirez (Father)