August 13th, 15:08

The search for Rojas continued through the morning and into the afternoon. Doc's team noted a small group of militia congregating around a van with AK-47s and small arms. They lost track of the vehicle, but last they knew, it was headed west. MacTavish's team spotted a white van driving through that matched the description and tailed them. They left the boundaries of the favela. Ghost, Meat, and Royce moved accordingly and started the quiet process of diverting civilians from the area.

"Ghost, the plates are a match," MacTavish said.

Ghost glanced down the road. MacTavish's team was a klick away, out of sight. "Copy. Any sign of Rojas' right-hand man?"

"Negative. They've stopped twice already - no sign of him."After a beat, MacTavish continued, "Wait, they've stopped again. Standby."

If only he wasn't on over watch. The tension in the air was growing, gnawing at Ghost's stomach as he listened with rapt attention to MacTavish's play-by-play.

"Got a positive ID. Whoever these guys are, they're not happy to see him…"

Gunshots resounded down the street; Desert Eagle, if he had to guess. Both Meat and Royce stood straighter, the former gripped his gun a little tighter.

"Ghost, we have a situation here!" MacTavish's calm swapped with raising alarm. The rapid clacking of AK-47 fire followed, and then the blaring of a car horn. Ghost's heart stopped.

Don't be dead. Don't be dead. For fuck's sake, please don't be dead. There was a break in the gunshots, replaced by hysterical shrieking. He signaled to Meat and Royce to follow him, and sprinted down the street with them in tow towards the monotone wailing of the horn. Civilians fled the area, screaming and tripping over each other. Ghost shoved past a woman who nearly ran into him in her haste. What waited for him there? How many bodies would they find in that damn Lincoln?

"Ghost! Our driver's dead! We're on foot!" MacTavish finally said over the comms, and just the sound of his voice made Ghost choke on his relief. "Meet us at the Hotel Rio and cut him off if you can!"

Merlin was behind the wheel. Ghost put a tap on his emotions and rounded a corner. "Roger, I'm on my way!"

A car sped up the street at them, Meat jumped to one side and narrowly dodged a direct collision. More cars swerved to dodge pedestrians, hitting other vehicles and posts. Some caught fire, others smoked or steamed. The acidic taste clung to Ghost's sinuses with every measured breath he took.

At an intersection ahead of him, MacTavish and Roach ran up the sidewalk. Past them, Rojas's assistant booked it at breakneck speeds and ducked off the road behind the side of the hotel.

"He went into the alley!" Ghost just about caught up with them.

A car raced right towards MacTavish out of the blue. The brakes squealed as it came to an abrupt stop. The grill of the car nearly bashed the Captain in the knees, but he slid over the hood and kept going. "Non lethal takedowns only! We need him alive!"

He's okay. He's okay. Ghost banked left into the alley, now side by side with MacTavish.

Roach passed them, coming to the next turn ahead. He slid to a stop and took aim.

"Roach - take the shot! Go for his leg!" MacTavish ordered.

The Sergeant fired twice and lowered his gun.

They caught up to him, and MacTavish took a deep breath at the assistant writhing on the concrete. He patted Roach on the back. "He's down. Nice shot, Roach. Let's scrape this guy off the pavement and leave before the militia catch up."

Meat kicked the gun away from the assistant and handcuffed him. Once he had the assistant detained, he dressed the bullet wound in his thigh.

The assistant stuttered in Portuguese, "[Who the hell are you people? Americans?]"

"[Get up. You're coming with us.]" Meat said, dragging him to his feet. "Think we can get back to the nest with him?"

"We'll have to." MacTavish got back on the comms. "Doc, we got Rojas' right-hand man. What's your team's status?"

"Been quiet in this section, Captain. No sign of Rojas, and less militia activity."

"Roger. Keep searching, then. We're gonna see if the assistant knows anything."

"Copy that."

Ghost drew in beside MacTavish and scanned him with a critical eye. He didn't look any worse for wear, as far as he could tell. "You're not hurt, are you, mate?"

MacTavish shook his head. "I'm fine. Can't say the same for Merlin though."

Ghost could only imagine what it looked like, with Merlin shot and slumped on the wheel. Body retrieval would be a nightmare. "We can talk about it later when all's said and done."

"Aye, we've still got a job to do."

They had to walk this assistant back to the favela, as the roads were jammed with car accidents and the first responders arriving on scene to handle the situation. Once they slipped out, they brought this guy to an empty garage and secured him to a chair.

Ghost did a cursory glance of the room for anything he could use to interrogate him. The blowtorch looked promising. He turned it over in his hands to inspect it. It seemed in good enough shape to boot. He gave MacTavish a nod and ignited it while the Captain turned to talk to the rest of the team.

Grabbing the back of the assistant's sweat-soaked shirt, he brought the spindle of flame closer to the assistant's face. "[You're Alejandro Rojas' assistant, right?]"

The assistant looked from the torch to him, fidgeting in the chair. Each breath turned into a panicked gasp. "[What are you going to do with that?]"

The sheet metal door slammed shut as MacTavish stood up and paced to the corner of the room. Ghost brought the blowtorch a little closer, just enough for him to feel the radiating heat. "[Nothing, if you cooperate. Where is Alejandro Rojas?]"

He stammered something a bit too fast for Ghost to make sense of. Just outside, there was more gunfire, followed by screams and barking.

"Bravo 6, be advised - we've engaged enemy militia at the lower village!" Royce said.

MacTavish tapped the button on his radio and replied, "Royce, gimme a sitrep, over."

"Lots of militia, but no sign of Rojas over here, over!"

"Copy that! Keep searching. Let me know if you see him. Out."

"[Last chance,]" Ghost threatened, maintaining the torch's distance from his skin. "[Is he in this favela or not?]"

"[He is! He is!]"

"[Where then?]"

"Meat is down! I repeat, Meat is down!" Royce shouted.

The assistant squirmed against him, unable to place distance between himself and the fire. "[I don't know! He has been hiding from the militia, he could already be trying to escape!]"

"[And where would he go? Do you know?]"

"[There's a house uphill, red paint on the side. He keeps money in a safe there, in case he needs to leave in a hurry. If he's not there already, he will be! I know nothing else!]"

Ghost shut off the gas and lowered the torch. Two minutes; this had to be a new personal record for him. "Apparently Rojas is headed uphill, to a house with red siding. He'll probably try to escape while we're fighting the militia."

MacTavish threw open the door and stepped down. "Christ. I think I know where that is. We passed it earlier before we tailed the van. We gotta hurry."

"What about him?" Ghost asked, putting down the torch and gearing up.

Stopping in his tracks, MacTavish cast the assistant a glance. "Leave him. We're here for Rojas."

"Alright." Ghost hopped down and out of the garage to follow the Captain, leaving the assistant tied to the chair.

"Roach - we've got Rojas' location! He's heading west along the upper levels of the favela. We'll keep him from doubling back on our side - keep going and cut him off at the top!"

Roach answered, "Copy that! Captain, Royce and Meat are KIA."

MacTavish grit his teeth. "There's no time for backup. You're gonna have to do this on your own. Good luck. Out."

It was pandemonium in the streets. Militia swarmed the area, coming out of every nook and cranny to attack. In order to make any headway, they got into a pattern of one of them darting from a piece of cover to the next while the other covered them. It was slow going, and at this rate, they'd never catch Rojas before he escaped.

"Ghost, see that dumpster over there? We're gonna take a shortcut." MacTavish charged across, dodging and ducking behind light cover as bullets pinged around him. He reached the dumpsters and climbed atop one and then up on the rooftop. "Come on!"

Following his lead, Ghost sprinted and climbed up to meet him. There was a street on the opposite side of the building, further up the incline than where they were. MacTavish dropped to it and Ghost stayed close behind.

"[Circle around! Circle around!]" One man yelled.

"They're gonna cut us off, we'll need another route," Ghost said.

"Let's take that alley, see if we can't shake 'em."

They turned down the narrow footpath which sidewinded around several buildings. While rounding the corner, they encountered a few more enemy militia hiding in wait. MacTavish warned Roach about checking his corners, which honestly seemed a little silly at this point.

Back on the main street, a pair of shutters on the second story of a building flew open and machine gun fire forced them to find cover. There was no time for this! Not when they hadn't even so much as spotted Rojas. Ghost sprinted in under the window and chucked a grenade up inside the MG nest. With a boom and a shout, the MG was down.

"Ghost! Rooftops!"

He looked up and saw exactly what MacTavish was talking about. A few men toting RPGs sprinted along the tin plated roofs and found positions to load up and aim. Ghost shot them down, but not before one of them fired the grenade his way. It spun out and exploded against the wall behind him, sending bits of concrete showering on him from the impact. He raised his arm to protect his eyes.

Ghost caught a flash of red on his forearm, the sting of shallow cuts from flying debris. He swore under his breath and pushed forward. There had to be an easier way to do this. Something.

"There he is!" MacTavish pointed up ahead, where Rojas ducked into a building with a chipped red wall and slammed the door shut behind him. More armed militiamen came running in from side streets and along the roofs, bogging them down with a volley of bullets.

With MacTavish laying down covering fire, Ghost gave chase, kicking in the door. The flimsy wood barrier splintered and flew wide open. In the next room, Rojas lugged a duffel bag over his shoulder and sprinted up the stairs, leaving behind an open, empty safe.

"Roach, we're taking heavy fire from the militia here, but I'm still tracking Rojas! He's gone into a building! Ghost, do you see him?"

In that moment, Rojas looked back at him and fired several shots, forcing Ghost to duck behind the wall while he scrambled up and out of sight. "Roger that, he's climbing onto a roof carrying a black duffel bag!" Ghost swore under his breath and ran up the stairs after him, up onto the rooftops.

"Well, that ought to slow him down! Roach, we're keeping him from doubling back! Keep moving to intercept! Go! Go!"

Rojas shot at him a couple more times over his shoulder before dropping the duffel bag off the side of the roof and jumping down after it. When Ghost reached the edge, he discovered a small balcony. Rojas must've gone inside and ducked down.

In the street, MacTavish sprinted a considerable distance to catch up. He shouted up, "He just ran out and went down that side street!"

Ghost nodded and took a few steps back to give himself a running start, then leaped to the next rooftop. The impact of the landing sent a shock wave up his legs. Then he was running again. Rojas was below and headed towards the end of the street. He could jump on him, but he couldn't risk seriously injuring the HVI or himself.

"Keep going! Rojas is still headed towards your side of the favela!" MacTavish told Roach.

"I'm under heavy fire!"

"Roach! Don't let the militia pin you down for too long! Use your flashbangs on them!" A young man climbed up on the rooftop, Dragunov hanging off his back and a bandolier across his chest. Before he even got the chance to react, Ghost checked him off the side of the building.

Rojas reached the end of the street and hopped a fence to another small courtyard and a network of alleys that'd take him back the way he came. At roughly the same time, MacTavish came to the mouth of that sidestreet and skid on his toes as he turned and ran down. "I've lost sight of him again! Ghost, talk to me!"

Ghost sprinted to catch up. "I'm onto him! He's trying to double back through the alleys below!"

"Roger that! Stay on him!"

Rojas exited the mouth of the alleys and sprinted into the marketplace, the fabric canopies and stalls obscured him from view. Ghost cursed and climbed down to street level to find him again. He caught Rojas' retreating backside as more militia swarmed and added to the confusion. "I've got a visual on Rojas! He's cutting through the market!"

"Roger that! I'll head for the rooftops and try to cut him off on the right! He's gonna have no choice but to head west!" Just as MacTavish finished his sentence, he appeared atop one building and jumped to the next. Crazy bastard took out his sidearm and shot a guy in the face as he ran past and out of sight.

Ghost meant to go through and stay hot on Rojas' heels, but he ended up pinned down behind a half wall and nestled in a cluster of chicken cages. "This isn't gonna work…" He peaked up from cover and shot a few men down, but had to immediately take cover again when a shotgun blast struck the wall. Beside him, a chicken squawked as it exploded with blood and feathers. "I'm taking a lot of fire from the militia, I don't think I can track him through the market! I'm gonna have to find another way around!"

He ran from cover and sprinted east to circumnavigate the market. Chicken feathers fluttered off his shoulder and clothing. Up above, he spotted Rojas again, now missing the duffel bag. He must've ditched it. "Be advised, I'm about half a klick east of the market, I can see Rojas running across the rooftops on my right side!"

"Roger that! Roach! We're still corralling him closer to your side of the hill! Keep an eye open for Rojas! He's making his way across the rooftops!"

"I see him!"

The street was empty. If there was ever a chance, now was it. Ghost took aim. "Sir, I've got Rojas in my sights! We can go for a clean leg shot! We can end it here!"

"Negative! We can't risk it! Do not engage!"

"Bollocks!" Ghost lowered his gun and quickly amended his outburst. "Roger that!"

"Roach! I've spotted Rojas, he's making a run for it! He's headed your way!" A second later, MacTavish added, "And don't shoot him! We need him alive and unharmed!"

When all this was said and done, Ghost would slap MacTavish in the fucking dick for being so bloody difficult. Absolute bullshit.

"Roach, we're going to cut him off at the summit, keep pushing him that way! Go! Go!"

Ghost ran along, trying to get another beat on Rojas. Above him, he spotted MacTavish again, so their target couldn't be far. Rojas came running from an alley several meters ahead. He was so close that Ghost could practically count the individual beads of sweat on his face. Ghost tried to close the distance, but as he reached out to grab him, an RPG exploded to his left and knocked him off his feet. Rojas kept going.

MacTavish took out the person who fired the RPG. "Ghost, he's going for that motorcycle!"

Ghost pulled out his sidearm. "No, he's not!" He fired two shots. The first pinged off the chrome and the second popped the back tire.

"[Fuck!]" Rojas abandoned the bike and ran behind another building.

Ghost pulled himself up and collected his rifle. He wasn't that badly hurt, all things considered.

"Okay, we've got eyes on Rojas- Wait! Ah shite! He's headed back towards you!"

Sure enough, Rojas came running out from where he just went. Ghost fired in front of Rojas, which was enough to spook him and drive him back into the alley, and ran after him to prevent him from coming back.

"Nice! He's breaking to the right again! Roach, if you see him, do not shoot him! I need him unharmed!" There was more that MacTavish said to Roach, but Ghost missed about half of it as he chased after Rojas.

Another turn and Ghost lost him. Rojas had just up and vanished, and there were too many damn places he could've gone. "Where is he, where is he?"

"Got a visual! He's over there, sliding down the tin rooftops!"

Ghost tracked where MacTavish was pointing up above and spotted Rojas as he reached a landing and struggled to catch his bearings. "I've got another clear leg shot!"

"Negative! Not unless you wanna carry him back out with all this militia breathing down your neck! I need him unharmed!"

Ghost cursed under his breath and ran in Rojas' direction. There had to be a way up on the rooftops. Rojas ran across a makeshift bridge from one roof to a balcony, causing the whole unstable structure to bounce with each step.

"Ghost, I'm going far right!"

Where the fuck was he? The Captain up and vanished. Meanwhile Rojas was about to duck inside that building and there was no way in hell Ghost would reach it in time to intercept him. "He's gonna get away!"

"No, he's not." In the next instant, as Rojas ran across the balcony, the glass door to it exploded and MacTavish came flying out. He fucking rugby-style tackled Rojas, sending both of them falling two stories down and into the roof of a green sedan. The top crunched under their combined weight, sending more glass shards flying. Without missing a beat, MacTavish grabbed Rojas and held a pistol to his face. Ghost hopped up on the hood to assist, pointing the muzzle of his rifle down at him. "Frontrunner, this is Bravo 6. We've got the package. I repeat, we have got the package."

From the opposite side of the clearing, Roach came running up the path and slowed to a stop, panting.

Ghost switched frequencies to get in contact with Command. "Command, ready for dust off. Send the chopper. Coordinates to fol-"

"Negative, Bravo 5. We're detecting a massive number of bogeys in your area. Over."

Ghost glanced up at the sky, that clear as day blue sky. Nary a bird, aircraft or otherwise. Un-fucking-believable. "Bollocks! The skies are clear! Send the chopper now!"

"We can't send air support at this time. Out."

MacTavish cast him a brief look, his brows knitted with concern, and then returned his attention squarely on Rojas.

Ghost sighed, a deep, flagrant anger radiating in his chest. "Command's got their head up their arse. We're on our own."

"There's nothing we can do about it for now," MacTavish said. "Doc, we have Rojas. What's the ETA on your team meeting up with us?"

"We'll be there in 20."

"Roger that. Stay alert, the militia are still crawling all over this side of the favela."

"Copy that. We'll be there."

Ghost looked over to Roach, who largely got his breathing under control. In either of his hands were Mini-Uzis, and both were shaking. "You alright, mate?"

He swallowed and nodded. "I am."

"Good. Let's secure this bastard and find a better spot before the militia catch up."

{—To Be Continued—

Summary of Plan B Chapter 32(.5)

32(.5). Takedown.

A/N: Same shit; Different POV.

This chapter was... well... it exists. I don't know why, but Younger Me had this thing where I wrote the campaign but with zero changes and only sometimes from a different POV. It always read like I copy/pasted the game transcript off the wiki and then added ill-fitting dialogue tags and weird interjecting narrative that made no sense coming from a grown ass man. I facepalmed a good seven or eight times reading the original chapter.

Firstly, I didn't know how to count apparently, because this chapter was also labeled "P32" just like the last chapter. This isn't the first time that I screwed up the chapter numbers. I guess it's fitting enough, because the only thing that happens in this is Takedown, which plays out EXACTLY like the game with no deviation, so it may as well be an extension of the previous chapter.

In Plan B, this is all coming from Captain MacTavish's POV, I chose to swap to Ghost's because I felt like it'd be way less removed from what you see in game. Here are a few gems from badly-written-MacTavish's perspective:
-I would've drove but Granite discided, through a near arguement, that he would drive. Roach claimed passenger seat and I was stuck in the back. (Granite is the driver in this version. I changed him to Merlin, going based off the Remastered, which gave him a name.)
-'Okay what's the first thing you do if you're unarmed and there is a firefight outside?' I asked in my head. 'Oh I know! Run into the streets like a bunch of startled cattle! Find cover you idiots!'
-"Oh what happened to teh days where men could stand to see others scream bloody murder," Ghost joked as he picked through his tools.

I don't know why, but there was also no sense of timing in the original. You get MacTavish yelling at Roach about two separate things in the same breath and events that just happen. I clearly lacked an understanding for what anybody was talking about too and took a lot of stuff at face value with no deep introspection or consideration for circumstances.

As always, stay safe and much love! 3