Chapter Five

DC was falling, that was for certain. The air surrounding PFC James Ramirez was stained an ugly maroon from explosions, fire, military vehicle's exhaust, and the street lights struggling to keep the battle torn city illuminated. Evacuations were underway, American soldiers were scrambling to defend civilians and keep Russian troops away from them. The storm shelter the American troops set up an FOB in was filled to the brim with wounded waiting possibly for hours to be treated for any kind of ailment or injury, some just given painkillers to keep them comfortable as they died. The US was losing, it was becoming obvious. Resources were running thin, soldiers were stuck using older, less expensive equipment as the majority of resources were put into making sure the American people could flee the city. It was becoming more and more apparent to Ramirez that the government intended to either abandon its capital, or raze it. But he kept hope up, if Torres kept his hope up enough to run from hospital to hospital gathering medical supplies completely solo so that the wounded could be tended to, then Ramirez could keep his hope up enough to fight back against the invasion. Ramirez stepped out of the shelter joining his team to get ready. Once, they would have all been wielding M4A1's, FN SCARs, and even the odd M249, but now, they had more basic weapons. Torres was carrying an AR-15 with a Desert Eagle strapped to his hip, at least that's what Ramirez knew. Ramirez himself was wielding a civilian clone of the AK47 called a Wasr 10 that the army graciously put an auto sear in for him, with a 1911 in his hip holster. Dunn and Morgan both had AK47's donated by a PMC called Jackals, with them having either a Glock 17 or a M&P Shield respectively. Foley, naturally, got the fancy gear, carrying an AR-15 some civilian tricked out with an optic and a foregrip, with a Sig P226 in his holster. Knives were becoming a luxury, so they all had police telescoping batons attached to whatever rig the Army could give them, if they even got one. The situation truly was desperate, especially since street gangs were helping them with evacuations and fighting.

"Alright, gentlemen." Foley stated, his tone far more somber than usual. "We're assisting in evacuations. The Department of Commerce is directly across from the evacuation site at the Washington Monument, the team that was once there unfortunately passed, so we're taking up the buck there."

"Wait, what about Torres?" Dunn asked. "What's he doing?"

"Last I saw him, he went off to coordinate evacuations at the hospitals and gather supplies to treat the wounded troops, completely solo." Ramirez stated. "Not sure when he'll be back."

"If he'll be back." Morgan muttered in correction.

"No, Ramirez is right, when." Folley corrected. "We all know Torres, that mean S.O.B. can stand up to anything, he'll survive, he always does."

"What are we waiting for? Let's go!" Ramirez spat out.

"That's the energy I like to see, Ramirez, Hooah!" Foley spat, the rest of Hunter 2-1 mimicking in response. They rushed ahead, crossing the street under the cover of darkness, entering the Department of Commerce as fast as possible. Naturally, there were Russian troops waiting for them, why wouldn't there be? They pushed through them, gunning down the Russians and pushing to the designated defense point, even destroying a SAM site enroute.

"Would you look at all that, think they commandeered it from an American armory?" Dunn stated, marveling at the Russian sniper nest they were to use. So that was where all of their good equipment was, it was all stolen.

"Most likely, Russians don't use Javelins, they gotta be stolen." Morgan responded.

"Enough chatter." Foley began. "Ramirez, you hop on the fifty cal, it's got a thermal sight to use it to your advantage. The rest of us will keep you covered. Focus on disabling the BTRs, our choppers and men have the infantry taken care of."

"Copy that." Ramirez stated, racking the bolt of the M82. Ramirez aimed down the scope, identifying a target, and pulling the trigger until it stopped. He repeated this for minutes, but it felt like hours. That was the thing about combat, the shortest engagement always feels like it takes forever. Ramirez's perception of time was severely altered, every second felt like a minute, every minute an hour, every hour a day, and so on. Before, he would be studying for what felt like thirty minutes, the time showing that two hours passed when he'd check his watch. Now, it would feel like Ramirez had been fighting for hours without stopping, only to find it had been fifteen minutes. That was the case right now, it took only a few minutes for evacuations to complete, but it felt like he was lying down shooting for almost a day. Just as Ramirez stood up, a chopper flew in front of the nest. It was a massive Russian attack chopper, a Mi-28, ready to rip the team to shreds. He had no help, the others were busy keeping soldiers from attacking him directly, meaning he had to deal with the chopper on his own. He could have used one of the Javelins, but they don't work if you have a roof. It was then that he noticed what was clipped onto a Russian soldier's rifle. Ripping it off and mounting it to his own rifle, Ramirez aimed the GP25 at the helicopter, taking a deep breath as he fired. A few seconds passed before an explosion rang out and the helicopter crashed into the National Mall below. Dunn stood in the doorway, having just witnessed this.

"Impressive, Ramirez, but we gotta go, they're abandoning the city, we're letting the Russians have DC." Dunn stated, a sober look on his face.

"Are you serious? We're just letting them have it!" Ramirez spat.

"I appreciate your patriotic attitude, Ramirez, but this is straight from the top. General Shepherd gave the orders to evacuate, order April." Foley sighed.

"This is madness, we can't just leave the city, we're American soldiers, we fight to our last breath!" Ramirez yelled.

"Ramirez, let it go." Foley sighed dejectedly. "There's always a time to retreat, and often, not retreating will only cause more death." Ramirez sighed.

"This is bullshit, but fine." Ramirez sighed. "Let's get out of here." As the team boarded their chopper out of the city, they heard news from Torres.

"DO NOT TRUST S-" his message began before gunshots and static interrupted him. "HIS MEN ARE SHOOTING ME- BLACK AND TAN UNIFORMS- SHADOW- DO NOT FOLLOW ORDERS, SHEPHERD CANNOT BE TRUSTED!" The transmission cut out after the sound of an explosion rang out. Ramirez looked at his squadmates.

"What the hell was that about? Don't trust Shepherd, what does he mean?" Dunn asked.

"Black and tan uniforms, why does that sound familiar?" Morgan added, just as confused.

"That would be Shepherd's PMC, Shadow Company, but they're all in Afghanistan and Kastovia, why would they be here?" Folley explained.

"Something's wrong guys." Ramirez stated as the chopper flew over the burning city. "Torres knew something was wrong from the moment Russia began the invasion, we should have listened to him."

"What do you think is happening?" Morgan asked, clutching his rifle, seeming to be regressing to cope.

"I think Torres was right, I think Shepherd's planning something." Ramirez stated. Just moments after he said this, a missile struck the chopper, sending it into a tailspin, crashing into the earth. Ramirez was passed out for a moment, waking up in the wreckage of the chopper, his hands and uniform badly cut. His rifle was completely empty. Morgan took notice, handing him a magazine before Ramirez could grab one of his own.

"Last mag, make it count." Morgan stated before a bullet ripped through his skull, splattering blood all over the wreckage. Ramirez loaded and chambered the rifle, firing on the Russians surrounding the chopper. It really was the last magazine, his rig was empty, Ramirez was defenseless. A searchlight flashed over the wreckage, signaling the end of everything.

Ryuji was paired with Roach and Price for the actual infiltration. The three men, all dressed in their arctic camo blending into the snow slowly inched through the forest, staying away from the paths to keep from being found, moving single file in each other's bootprints. From what Ryuji knew, the situation was worsening back at the US Capitol, the fighting reaching a point where American forces were stuck commandeering weapons from gun shops, ATF evidence lockups, even some gangs were passing out weapons to the troops and helping them fight back the Russians. Even then, Shepherd was still planning on ordering all forces to evacuate. Ryuji knew that he and Price had to do this, they had to launch the EMP. Moving slowly, the team moved without killing anyone. Not a single bullet was spent, no one saw them, no one had to be silenced. Coming up on a ridge, the docks were directly ahead of them just after passing a village. Naturally, they continued as quietly as they could, but needed to go loud regardless after a misstep gave Roach's position away. Wave after wave of terrorists arrived, the team kept it up, continuing to push through. Soon enough, Price and Ryuji were atop the submarine, ready to get in. Ryuji forced open a hatch, letting Price drop a flashbang in. Sliding down the ladder, Ryuji took care of the terrorists directly ahead of them while Price entered the submarine. The two pushed on, entering hatches, gunning down Inner Circle, and repeating until they came upon the missile launch bays. One tube sat with a missile in it, a nuclear warhead.

"Let's get this done." Price stated, prying open the warhead. Carefully, Price recoded the warhead to detonate at a much higher altitude, Ryuji providing cover, leaving the pulse generator in place to confuse any diagnostics scanners in case they failed. The two moved up to the launch center.

"We're doing this, no matter what Shepherd says. You know he has no interest in stopping the fighting." Price stated, hand hovering over the launch controls.

"Hit it." Ryuji stated. Price slammed a fist down on the launch button. Alarms blared signaling the missile launch.

"Price, do you copy!? The silo doors are opening, repeat, the silo doors are opening!" Ghost yelled over the radio. Price's response came immediately.

"Good."

A flash of light washed over Ramirez, his rifle empty, his team unable to fight back. This was it, it was all over. Ramirez prepared to be ripped to shreds by machine gun fire, content that he at least did what he could to facilitate the civilian evacuations. But the gunfire never came. What came instead was both a relief and a cause for panic. A massive flash of light burst in the skies. At first, Ramirez thought that the US nuked it's own city. If what the rest of Hunter 2-1 said about General Shepherd was true, it wasn't unlike him to do so. But it wasn't a nuke, the fact that he wasn't already vaporized said so. It was an EMP, wiping out all of the electronics in the area. Ramirez watched in terrified awe as the helicopters came crashing to the ground and streetlights exploded as the pulse wiped out all of the power in the area.

"What the hell just happened?" Dunn asked, awestruck by the destruction.

"Did the US do that?" Ramirez asked as he began to push the rotors of the crashed chopped out of the way.

"I don't think that was us, Ramirez." Foley muttered, helping move the rotors. "Either we have a guardian angel, or we just watched the United States die."

"I don't think so." Ramirez stated. "We're not being shot at anymore, I think that wasn't American or Russian."

"What do you think it was?" Dunn asked. "Japan? Oh, wait, they don't have ICBMs."

"I think the missile was Russian but launched by 141." Ramirez stated.

"You've been spending way too much time with Torres." Dunn grimaced.

"No, think about it." Ramirez stopped before Dunn could continue. "The USA is alone right now, Japan pulled out of their military alliances after Rapid Sunder, since they lost troops there, specifically Lieutenant Koskue Sato, the first combat casualty since World War Two. Everyone else is not too happy about Zakhaev International, but, 141 consists of Delta Force, SAS, and one JSDF Ranger, according to Torres. 141 is after Makarov, as is Shepherd, their Commander. What if the evacuation was to get out and then raze the city with a Russian nuke, but someone decided that it wasn't worth risking American lives and replaced it with an EMP?"

"That makes no sense, Ramirez." Dunn groaned. "But we need to meet up with everyone else. Orders, Sarge?"

"We'll go to the closest ammo stash, there's gotta be people there.." Foley explained.

"What about that blast? Are we gonna talk any more about that?" Dunn asked.

"Unimportant, we need to go get ammunition for our guns, then we can figure all of this out." Foley stated. Foley, Dunn and Ramirez paid their respects to the fallen before moving out, the streets in an eerie silence as they moved to their first destination, a stash of ammunition left behind in a cafe. The sounds of footsteps rang out as they loaded their weapons, everyone aiming their rifles at the source.

"Star." Foley stated, an emergency challenge word to identify friendlies. A soldier stood up, illuminated by a chemlight.

"We forgot the counter word…" The soldier admitted, hands raised.

"At ease, it's 'Texas'. Glad to hear you're alive." Foley stated. "How many do you have?"

"Myself and another private, two civilian volunteers and a few criminals who offered assistance." the soldier stated. "We're relaying orders, all forces are linking up at Whiskey-Hotel."

"You are Americans, yeah?" one of the criminals asked.

"Red blooded." Ramirez responded. "How armed are you guys?"

"Not well armed, most of what we have are surplus 772's or illegally modified AKs and MAC-10s." a civilian sighed. "We're probably going to scavenge something from your crash site."

"We're bound to find something enroute to Whiskey-Hotel." Foley stated. "Come with us."

"Respectfully, Sergeant, we gotta go warn everyone else. Orders from Colonel Marshal." One of the soldiers stated. "Stay safe."

"Likewise." Foley stated. The team slowly moved forward, moving through an abandoned office. The darkness was not comforting, it kept people hidden, and the only thing lighting the building was the occasional lightning strike. Ramirez was certain he could never sleep in total darkness again. The sound of people running spat out, leading to the team taking cover. Foley signaled to Dunn to give the challenge phrase.

"Star." Dunn stated. Gunshots rang out, a bullet ripped through Dunn's neck as he fell to the floor, clutching his bleeding throat. Ramirez popped out of cover, briefly firing on the enemies before falling back in to reload.

"Looks like they aren't friendly." Ramirez grumbled, pulling back his rifle's charging handle.

"Certainly." Foley responded, throwing a grenade over his back, finishing the firefight.

"Oh, god, I'm gonna die." Dunn began screaming as the gunshots died down. Ramirez and Foley rushed to Dunn.

"I got you, Dunn, let me handle this." Ramirez stated. Ramirez took out his aid kit, ripping gauze, occlusive dressing, and medical tape out of his pack. "Try not to breathe for a minute."

"Y-you sure?" Dunn groaned.

"Yes, I'm sure, Madre told me all about these wounds." Ramirez stated, starting by pressing the occlusive dressing on the gunshot, letting it seal the wound, preventing air from entering. Ramirez then pressed the gauze against the dressing, taping the edges to keep it in place. It wasn't necessary, but Ramirez did it anyway to keep the dressing in place.

"How do you know how to do this?" Dunn asked.

"Yeah, never figured you for a sawbones." Foley stated.

"Mi Madre was a paramedic, she taught me how to fix wounds." Ramirez explained, putting his kit away. "Reserves would have made me a medic, but the paperwork didn't arrive in time."

"What about your dad?" Dunn asked as Ramirez helped him to his feet.

"Dad was a doctor in Cuba, could only get an entry level job when he took us to the states." Ramirez began. "But as soon as he got his job, he worked as hard as he could until he was made a hospital director in Miami, Florida. I'm certain he's out there saving lives with mom right now."

"Inspiring, Ramirez." Foley stated. "Let's get to Whiskey-Hotel, there's a shortcut through the PEOC."

"For real? I thought the PEOC was under the west wing." Dunn stated, hissing in pain as he spoke.

"Nope, it's under the Eisenhower Building." Foley stated. "C'mon, let's keep going, let's just hope the others made it to Whiskey-Hotel."

A/N: So, that's done. Sorry it took so long, I didn't like it and made some revisions before I uploaded. So, you may be saying "Hang on a minute, I don't remember starting either Of Their Own Accord or Second Sun with a Wasr 10, whatever that is" and to that I say: let me explain. I wanted to show just how desperate the situation in DC is, and also because I thought it would be cool. There is also an issue with the nuke. For the longest time, I thought that it was just an EMP and that Price just swapped the warhead. Reading the wiki, it turns it really was a nuke. So retcon everything I said about Ryuji and Price turning it into an EMP. Well, that's All I have for now, prepare for Whiskey Hotel and the Shadow Company Arc. As always, hope you enjoyed and have a great day!