Cellphones weren't an item a soldier carried on their person very often. This was something MacTavish was so used to that he hadn't bothered to replace his Blackberry he'd had since 2008, even as its battery slowly died. It stayed turned off in his quarters, under a stack of papers, and only ever saw the acknowledgement of a passing glance when he had to organize his desk. He was pretty used to waiting till he made it back on base to make calls.

But damn, even that stupid half dead fossil would've been convenient at a time like this.

After Command snubbed 'em, Ghost kept flipping channels and trying to reach anybody with any potential to get them out of Brazil, but every line was tied up. MacTavish may have arranged a fallback plan, but he didn't expect the circumstances he'd need to use it to be this dire. The next thing he tried was to contact Nikolai via the helicopter's radio, but all he got was dead air. The whole thing must've been off. That left him with one last solution: Nikolai's burner phone.

He, Doc, and Klepto hunted down a payphone in the nearby area. It took them precious minutes longer to scrounge up the change to make the call, since nobody carried centavos. They swept the nearby buildings and turned up a filthy piggybank abandoned in an empty house; probably belonged to some kid who MacTavish hoped was hiding somewhere safe with their parents. Nobody expected it to have anything. Doc was halfway through saying, "There's no way." when Klepto yanked off the stopper on the bottom and a handful of coins fell out, shutting the medic up. The three of them agreed to never bring this up again and returned to the payphone. For all this effort they put in robbing an eight-year-old's candy fund, Nikolai better not have muted the bloody thing. MacTavish rapped his fingers on the box while listening to the dial tone.

"[Yes?]"

"Nikolai, it's me. How soon can you be at the primary extraction point?"

"... Give me twenty minutes. I will be there, my friend."

"See you then. Out." Behind him, he heard a snort. MacTavish internally withered and hung up the phone. "Something funny, Klepto?"

Klepto stopped pressing his lips shut to reply tersely, "No, Sir."

Just let it go... "Let's meet up with the others."

When they returned to the small clearing, Ghost spotted them first and approached them, saying, "Sir, the militia's closing in. Almost 200 of them, front and back."

There was still a chance. "We're gonna have to fight our way to the LZ. Let's go!"

Ghost nodded. "What about Rojas?"

Currently, Rojas was strapped to a metal frame against the wall; the jumper cables connected to a pilfered car battery lay disconnected on the ground. More tools lay set about purposefully on a rickety wooden table, from drills to plyers and a snubbed out cigarette. Rojas looked like absolute hell, heaving and wheezing, on the cusp of passing out, and blood stained his chest from all the relatively minor injuries inflicted. Even with a crude, improvised set up, Ghost did a serious number on him for the small shred of intel they got. Rojas had to know more than about a single grudge Makarov harbored for some nameless Russian prisoner, but to get anything substantial out of him required more time that they wouldn't have unless they dragged his half dead ass out of here. "The streets'll take care of him."

"Works for me," Ghost said.

MacTavish took up the rear as they advanced up the path. "Nikolai! We're at the top level of the favela, surrounded by militia! Bring the chopper to the market, do you copy, over!"

"Okay, my friend, I am on the way!"

The first gunshots sailed past them as they reached an open, paved plaza with a building in the middle. This was it. "Everyone get ready! Lock and load!"

"Let's do this!" Ghost shouted.

The squad fanned out over the large space as the militia flooded the area from all sides and engaged them. MacTavish stayed left and took cover behind a few white barrels and opened fire. Squealing tires ripped through the air, piercing as a thumbtack to the eardrum. In the next instant, a technical burst through the gate and did a donut while the machine gunner sprayed in a wide circle.

"Shit! I'm hit!" Rocket ducked behind the half wall.

A couple bullets hit the gunner in the face, and he dropped from the truck bed as the technical sped in a large circle around the square. Near Rocket, Roach knelt down and out of sight.

Another revving engine approached. MacTavish's cheek hurt from how hard he scowled. "We got another technical! Take it out!" This one stayed much, much closer to the gate and out of his line of sight. He could run somewhere and get a better angle, but that'd leave him open to the hostiles up high.

The machine gun fire halted, followed by a cry in Portuguese. MacTavish ducked and glanced to the side. Rocket was up again, a compression bandage around his bicep, and his rifle tight in his hands. "Technical's down!"

"Head through that gate! Keep pushing to the evac point!"

Moving up, Ghost shouted, "Go! Go! Go!" As their team advanced, the militia pushed back. "Roach, take 'em out!"

Roach ran up to the closer technical and manned its machine gun to cover their advance, and fell in behind them once they reached the gate.

This was only the beginning of many challenges. It didn't matter if it was a street or a clearing, there was almost consistently a firefight. They reached the market by the skin of their teeth, and just past that was the LZ. The entire way, MacTavish ticked off smaller goals in his head; get through this yard, then get to the end of this street, reach the market… He didn't have a second to think whether the LZ was safe, or if there was a window of opportunity to escape, not until he heard the helicopter overhead.

"There's Nikolai's Pave Low! Let's go!" He tapped on his comm as they cut through a building. "Nikolai! ETA 20 seconds! Be ready for immediate dustoff!"

"That may not be fast enough! I see more militia closing in on the market!"

MacTavish's stomach did a barrel roll. "Pick up the pace! Let's go!"

Please, God, two minutes. Not even two minutes. Just long enough for them to get on board and in the sky safely. Please…

Roach took point, but he stalled at the door leading out to the LZ. MacTavish caught up and too balked. The militia were already here, and they fired RPGs that narrowly missed the underbelly of Nikolai's helicopter, leaving a crisscross of smoke trails in their wake.

"It's too hot! We will not survive this landing!"

Nope. Nope. Nope Nope Nope! "Nikolai, wave off, wave off! We'll meet you at the secondary LZ instead! Go!"

The helicopter pulled up and flew off. One last RPG struck a roof below him, exploding in a bright red burst that scattered bits of concrete. "Very well, I will meet you there! Good luck!"

He had the worst damn feeling about this, but there was nowhere to go but forward. "Come on! We've got to get to the rooftops, this way!" MacTavish led the others across the clearing and took a running start to scale the 3 meter high wall. Once he was on the roof, he covered the others as they climbed after him and ran ahead. He reached down a hand for Rocket to take to help him up, and Roach was last.

The helicopter roared as it passed them and to the secondary LZ. "My friend, from up here, it looks like the whole village is trying to kill you!"

MacTavish hopped from a tin awning and took two small steadying steps to keep from tripping off the side, and jumped again to the next roof. "Tell me something I don't know! Just get ready to pick us up!"

Ghost slapped a bedsheet on a clothesline out of his face and cut ahead of the team. "We're running out of rooftop!"

"We can make it! Go! Go! Go!"

Ghost jumped first and cleared the gap with ease, landing on the lower ledge and rolling into a crouch. Next went Chemo and Rocket. MacTavish reached the edge and landed with a heavy thud. Klepto and Doc jumped after him, making it across. The tin roof gave an indignant creak at all their weight.

Only one they were missing was… "Roach! What's the holdup?"

The Sergeant chucked his gun aside, took a running start and leaped towards them with a clipped shout. He struck the edge flat footed, pitched forward, and slapped the roof flat on his stomach, dislodging the tin plate. It, and by extension him, hung off the side by a thread.

MacTavish rushed for the side and swung his hand down to grab Roach. Roach even tried to reach for him. But the plate came loose. MacTavish's hand cut through empty air as Roach fell backwards. The only things MacTavish heard were the blood rushing in his ears, and that terrified scream milliseconds before Roach hit the bottom with a thud.

Rocket scurried to the side. "No! Roach!"

Chemo grabbed Rocket's shoulder and pulled him back. "Dude, back up!"

"We have to get him," Rocket snapped, shoving Chemo off.

A bullet struck the brick side of the building close by. "There's no time," Ghost said, "the militia's catching up. We need to get on that heli."

MacTavish smacked the roof and stood up. "Ghost's right. Everybody get onboard that Pave Low."

Once they were all on board, Nikolai craned his head back and asked, "Is that everyone?"

"We lost someone," MacTavish told him, "can we circle around and see if we can't find him?"

Nikolai gave him a tight frown. "Yes, I can bank back. Do you know where he is?"

"We do. He fell into the streets close to the LZ."

They got up in the air and looped around to get a look at the streets. About half the team crowded around the side door to spot Roach.

"Do you see him?"

"No…"

"Hey! Wait, there he is!"

"Fuck, he's still there…?"

"Think the fall killed him?"

"No, no, look! He's moving, sorta."

MacTavish and Ghost shooed them out of the way and yelled into the comms, hoping and praying that Roach would hear them and get his ass in gear. It didn't seem to have all that much effect.

"Bloody hell… The militia's closing in." Ghost pointed out the hostiles approaching Roach's position, slow but purposeful as a pack of wolves.

They couldn't land and get him. Roach had to wake up. MacTavish tried again, and this time he caught a bit more movement from the downed Sergeant. "Roach! Roach! Wake up!"

"Roach! We can see them from the chopper! They're coming for you, dozens of 'em!" Ghost said.

Slowly and clumsily, Roach got to his feet, using the wall for support. It was a step in the right direction.

"Roach! There's too many of them! Get the hell out of there and find a way to the rooftops! Move!" When Roach stumbled forward into the nearest doorway, MacTavish continued to urge him to run. They lost sight of him in the labyrinth of houses and alleys, but they saw the militia running to converge on whatever his position was in the middle of all that. Not even a minute later, Roach jumped out a doorway, arms flailing, and landed on the rooftops. "Roach! I see you! Jump down to the rooftops and meet us south of your position! Go!"

"Gas is very low! I must leave in thirty seconds!" Nikolai interjected.

Not good, not good. "Roach! We're running on fumes here! You got thirty seconds!"

"There's nowhere to land there!" Rocket said.

"There's nowhere to land anywhere," Ghost shot back. "Get the ladder, we're gonna have to improvise."

They hung the ladder out the door. A bullet pinged off the hull of the Pave Low, so MacTavish pushed Ghost out of the way. "Everybody stay over there." Three — no, four — RPGs whizzed past, aimed too low. Roach came running out of an apartment and onto the balcony. "Jump for it!"

Roach sprang from the ledge, another scream tearing from his lungs. He caught the ladder and swung with his momentum before he could securely set his feet on the rung.

MacTavish took a deep breath as Roach gawked up at him. He called into the cockpit, "Nikolai! We got him! Get us out of here!"

"Where to, my friend?" Already Nikolai flew away from the buildings, out of range of the militia's weapons.

"Just get us to the sub…"

Roach didn't stay hanging on the ladder for too long. He clambered up and was greeted by the rest of the team. Chemo and Rocket chattered while the Sergeant sat dazed on the floor of the helicopter and rested his head against the bench.

"Alright, alright. Give the man some space." Doc ushered both of them off and knelt down beside Roach. "Hey, look at me. Let me check."

Ghost reeled in the ladder and shut the door. "That could've been a lot worse."

"Yeah, no kidding," MacTavish agreed, sinking down into a seat. All the exhaustion from running after Rojas and then running to escape the favela caught up to him and seized the muscles in his legs. He couldn't stand again even if he wanted to. "Roach?"

The Sergeant looked his way while Doc cleaned a scrape on the side of his face. "Yes, Sir?"

"You're on circuits and cross fit when we get back to base."

Roach sighed. "Guess I should've seen that coming… Ow, shite, that stings."

"I bet it does," Doc said, waving the antiseptic wipe. "You got a full fucking pebble stuck in your cheek. Now hold still."

With the steady return to peace, MacTavish shut his eyes and rested his head against the wall. Maybe he could get a wee bit of rest before they'd rendezvous with Shepherd in the U.S.S. Chicago.

"How has the search for your missing man been going?" Nikolai asked, effectively killing whatever notion of a catnap he had.

Of all things he remembered telling Nikolai, missing two operators wasn't one. MacTavish cracked open one eye, but he couldn't see the Russian pilot's face. "How do you know about that?"

Nikolai muttered something in Russian, too quiet for him to catch, and said, "I sent a message to Fire Base Phoenix a couple of weeks ago. They should have given it to General Shepherd."

"I didn't hear about a message," MacTavish replied, sitting up. "What d'you say?"

"One: Scarab is safe and with the other Loyalists at our hideout. She is well enough to travel, and we were waiting for word on when she can return."

"Wait, did he say Scarab…?" Roach murmured.

"Scarab's okay?" Klepto also said. This sparked a whole quiet side conversation from the men on the opposite end of the helicopter.

MacTavish caught the look Ghost shot him, his eyes wide with confusion and alarm. Scarab wasn't in any danger this entire time? That was one less person to worry about and made the situation 50% better all on its own. The fact he didn't hear about this though was troubling. Why would Shepherd hide that? Scarab should have been flown back to base already, not still labeled MIA. MacTavish asked, "Anything else?"

"Two: The other operator was taken by one of Makarov's men. We do not know where she is."

This news rendered the entire cabin silent. Makarov had to be the worst person Heatstroke could have ended up in the hands of, arguably worse than dying. Odds were that psychopath would make a show of murdering her, so the fact they hadn't heard about it must have meant that he was trying to get intel out of her or was torturing her in some shape or form.

The thought of his men getting captured and tortured was something that kept MacTavish awake at night. It was an actual risk that came with the job, and they could only prepare for it in case it happened. There was training specifically for how to conduct oneself in such a situation, required for everyone here, and measures to take in order to rescue someone if they're taken prisoner. Heatstroke received all that training and did well in the high stress environment she worked in, but she was also the same person to faint when she saw the scene of Brandy's suicide. That mousy woman never started a commotion or got into trouble, in fact she was normally trying to defuse situations when they came up.

Maybe her non confrontational behavior would be her biggest advantage, and maybe she'd make it home alive.

Why the hell didn't Shepherd say anything?

{—To Be Continued—

Summary of Plan B Chapter 33

33. Hornet's Nest. I'm serious.

A/N: Hi again. We continue the misadventures of the Task Force men getting a back alley Brazilian wax.

There wasn't a whole lot of material to work with in Plan B for this chapter. Seriously. It was just the mission playing out with no deviation. Things in the original were again a weird blend of summary and trying to cram in the scripted dialogue. I decided to play around with it this time around and have some fun.
I didn't think about it when I was a kid, but the whole "Let's go find a payphone" line makes so much more sense now that I'm older and did research. Didn't think about it much, but a number of militaries banned the use of cell phones because they're easy to trace, making it a great wealth of intel for whoever your enemies are. Depending on the nature of a soldier's deployment, they might not be allowed to have a cell phone, and I seriously doubt they'd be taking them on missions if they did. Meanwhile in Plan B, Younger Me was having these dumbasses pull out phones all the time like some insane plot device (P.S. it's not specified in the original, but they were flip phones because that's all I had as a kid and all I understood). I kinda ran with the idea that Soap's got this shitastic phone that barely functions, and wouldn't you know it, Blackberry phones were popular around when he would've gotten one and I used to borrow my dad's to play Dig Dug.
Another thing I didn't appreciate all that much when I was younger was that this mission happens literally an hour after Takedown, and that's not even touching the fact that when you finish Takedown, the next mission you play is with the Rangers and it takes place BEFORE Takedown. I didn't even notice these timeline shenanigans until I was flipping through the wiki. I thought the only instance when it's a little "complicated" is when you get to the end of one Rangers mission, crash your helicopter, and on the opposite side of the globe, Contingency is taking place and Captain The-Ends-Justify-The-Means Price launches a fucking nuke which saves you the next time you get back to the Rangers.

This chapter was initially challenging to strike a balance with, but I had fun.
As always, stay safe and much love! 3