A/N: I own nothing except the laptop I wrote this story on.
A/N no. 2: This chapter takes place outside of Mother Base, deviating from the typical "only on Mother Base" model.
He drummed his fingers impatiently on the side of the door, and gazed out into the night. The sun had set about ten minutes ago, and the night was only just starting to become pitch black. The Boss had left about an hour prior to that, having changed into a pitch-black sneaking suit and a pair of night vision goggles. He'd left his assault rifle behind, racked up inside the helicopter, and had taken a silenced sniper rifle and pistol. Before he'd left, he'd grabbed the young man by the shoulders and practically snarled the order in his ear.
"No light."
He didn't have to tell Pequod twice. Baby was currently sitting barely outside of one of several Afghan villages that the Soviets had retaken in the wake of a renewed push against the Muhajideen, atop a rocky outcrop that gave a brilliant vantage point to anyone that was up there. The helicopter was shut off completely. Not a single system was working, not even the inner heating. That created a soft hum that the Boss didn't want to risk one of the more observant Soviets hearing.
Of course, it also meant that there was no protection against the infamously brutal Afghan desert nights other than the clothes one carried on their back.
Shviering profusely, Pequod walked out of the ACC of Baby and took a seat on the cliff side, overlooking the village that the Boss was in the middle of infiltrating. His feet dangled over the ledge, and he was glad that he wasn't afraid of heights.
Neither was the girl next to him.
"I'm stunned that you aren't cold, either." The young pilot said.
Quiet looked up from her prone position, and frowned slightly. She put a finger to her lips.
"They're not gonna hear me, Quiet. I can barely hear myself."
A raised eyebrow.
"Your super voodoo whatever-the-fuck powers don't count." He gestured to the village. "See anything?"
Quiet shrugged. She was lying down, with her sniper rifle ready to blow the head off of any target that the Boss needed removed. They were at a stupidly far distance from the village, and yet Pequod did not doubt for an instant that Quiet would be able to nail anyone that the Boss needed gone if asked.
Pequod then realized how stupid his question was, and sighed. He thought he heard Quiet snort, like she was suppressing a snicker at his expense. Of course she wasn't going to tell him if she saw anyone; she didn't talk.
"Quiet. Left corner building, twenty degrees right. On the roof, smoking a cigarette."
They heard the Boss' voice whisper in their ears, and Pequod went rigid. He knew that was a kill order. Quiet leaned into the scope, and stared in the general direction that the Boss had indicated. He pulled out a pair of zoom-in binoculars, and was able to make out the sight of the soldier in question.
"Do you have the shot?"
Quiet hummed gently.
"Do it."
Quiet pulled the trigger.
It wasn't that loud, and Pequod watched the solider collapse to the ground. He was glad it was dark out: one time he'd made the mistake of watching Quiet shoot someone in the head in broad daylight, and watched the guy's head explode in red mist. It sounded like someone dropping a watermelon from the top of a building; he couldn't eat the stuff for a week afterwards.
"Enemy target in the tower with the searchlight. West end of the village. See him?"
Quiet hummed.
"Do you have the shot?"
Another hum.
"Fire."
Another trigger pull, and another soldier slumped to the ground.
They waited in silence for a while, and then the Boss' voice perked up.
"There's an enemy sniper outside of the command building where the intel files are kept. He's hiding behind a low tin wall, keeping his head down. Probably having a smoke. See him?"
Quiet hummed, though there was a note of frustration in her tone this time. Pequod followed the line of sight in his binoculars, and saw what looked like a small fraction of someone's helmet sticking up from cover. That was an impossible shot. Quiet's hit would bounce off his helmet, he'd duck behind cover and disappear. And then the alarm would be raised, and the Boss would be cooked. This was a mission designed to destroy communications and otherwise fuck with the Soviet chain of supplies; it needed to be like Snake was never there, so that they wouldn't notice that something was wrong until it was too late.
And here was this overzealous sniper threatening to ruin it all by virtue of being a few inches shorter than what was needed for a clean shot.
That was when Pequod noticed the wind picking up slightly, and saw a little look of determination flash across Quiet's eyes. She got up on one knee, and pointed her sniper rifle directly at the enemy in question. But then she started turning her gun to the left, roughly forty degrees away. And then she lifted her gun up in the air, almost as if she was threatening to shoot the moon.
"Do you have the shot?" Snake asked again, taking note of the silence to speak again.
To Pequod's shock and disbelief, the woman next to him hummed in the affirmative.
"No, bullshit. You do not have this shot. There is not a-you're pointing your gun in an entirely different goddamn direction! There is no way this could-"
Quiet pulled the trigger.
On the life of his future children and on the life of the saint he was named after, Pequod would swear that what followed actually happened. Anything else and he was clearly losing his mind. Because when Quiet pulled the trigger, as God was his witness, he watched the bullet curve through the air like a gigantic banana towards the target, and then embed itself in the man's neck.
There was a pause.
"Good work, Quiet." Snake said. There was a hint of smugness in his voice, as if he'd heard Pequod's disbelief a few moments prior. There was another pause. "Move up to the guard tower where the downed target is, Quiet. Leave Pequod back there to do the math on that shot."
Quiet looked over at the young pilot, winked, and then disappeared in a rush.
…
Now they'd been gone for about ten minutes more. The Boss had clearly infiltrated the city limits, and at this point was going through the motions of interrogation and other methods of skullduggery. Personally, Pequod had to wonder how stupid the guards were to not notice that a few of them were going silent. Probably had something to do with Snake ripping out the communications hub a few minutes ago.
"Pequod?"
The young man had been dozing a little bit in the cockpit of the helicopter, when the Boss' voice rang in his ear. He jolted awake, and adjusted his headphones so that the microphone was now down by his lips.
"What's up, Boss?"
"I'm going through intel up here in the command center, and apparently this place had more than a few prisoners, both here and in the nearby outpost a half klick from here. Couldn't find anyone in the village, but I think the Soviets moved them to the outpost. Quiet and I are going to head there on foot, and see what we find. Stay sharp; I'll radio when we need an extract." The Boss was keeping his voice to a harsh whisper, in case someone was listening.
"Affirmative, Boss." Pequod said. "Want music?"
There sounded like there was a tired chuckle on the other end.
"No offense, Pequod, but if I have to hear Billy Idol one more time I think I'm gonna put my foot through Baby's door. So just a regular extract, please."
Pequod grumbled something about fun-suckers, but acknowledged the Boss' order. He turned up the microphone so that it was resting up by his forehead, and closed his eyes to grab some shut-eye. He figured that the Boss would take a few hours dealing with the outpost. If they were lucky, they'd get out of there by sunrise. From there, the Boss would most likely take them to a nearby Muhajideen camp where any prisoners could be discreetly smuggled to embassies and other neutral ground, outside of the Soviet bloc.
Then he heard something.
Pequod wasn't a paranoid soul, but he knew that something was outside. Discreetly and quietly, he reached down by his feet, and flicked a switch. It was a disabling failsafe, so that if anyone not named him tried to steal the helicopter it would be as useful as scrap metal. He hated locking Baby down, but he knew someone was out there.
As soon as he was sure that the systems were dead, he reached by his hip and pulled out a pistol. It was an FB Vis, otherwise known as the Radom. A Polish variant of the American Browning GP 9mm, it was considered one of the finest handguns on the planet, despite being made back during the Second World War. Simple, sleek, and semi-automatic, Pequod hated using guns but felt very safe with this thing in his left hand. Ocelot had given it to him as a present to cheer him up after getting dumped, and the young man was still getting the feel for it.
He slowly got out of the helicopter, and looked around. He listened quietly, paying attention for any sound that didn't fit with late night nature sleeping. There was some rustling of wind, a few of the brittle plants rustling and whistling.
The sound of a twig snapping.
He heard a sharp intake of breath, and he whirled around to face the source of the noise.
"Come out now." Pequod said, trying to avoid the rapid beating of his heart. He hoped that the unknown soul spoke English. "Now, and you won't get hurt."
The person obliged.
…
He wasn't sure what he'd expected. Maybe a soldier, perhaps. Or a feral dog, maybe. That would have sucked.
He didn't expect her.
She was a woman, obviously. She was dressed in a blue jumpsuit, like the kind they gave out to the prisoners that Boss had been rescuing left and right since they'd started operations in Afghanistan. She had a short, boyish haircut and dark brown hair. That was about all he could tell about her, considering she was covered head to foot in dust and muck and other unmentionable things.
She stared at him with glazed eyes.
"Are you…Russian?" She managed to ask. Pequod snorted.
"Polish."
She looked relieved.
"Oh…good."
Her eyes rolled back into her head, and she collapsed to the ground.
"Shit!"
Pequod rushed over to her, and felt her pulse. It was there and noticeable. If anything, she just seemed utterly exhausted, judging by the way she was moaning on the ground. He knelt down beside her, and helped her up slowly into a sitting position. She rubbed her head, and looked over at him, a bleary look in her eyes.
"You're a…gentleman." She managed to say. She had an accent from the United Kingdom, but he wasn't sure what it was. He figured if he guessed Irish, she'd get pissed off. But it definitely was a little bit more unique than "standard" British.
Pequod resisted rolling his eyes. If it was Fox, he'd have just guessed English. Stupid Philly kid was stupid.
"Pequod, my iDroid is signaling that you turned on Baby's failsafe. What's going on?"
Crap, the Boss.
"Uh…everything is fine. Thought I heard someone, and I did. But it's a…" he turned to her. "Did you escape from that prison down there?"
"No…" She said. Pequod felt his heart drop. If she was playing wounded gazelle, he was probably seconds from getting killed. "…I 'scaped from Da Ghwandar Khan…"
Pequod did a double take, but radioed it in.
There was an incredulous pause on the other end.
"Da Ghwandar Khan? That's almost thirty miles from here. Are you sure?"
Pequod looked down at her feet. The footwraps that the Soviets were so "gracious" to give her were completely worn out, and her feet were caked with dried blood. It was amazing that she wasn't screaming in pain.
"One look at her feet, and you'd believe it, Boss."
There was silence on the other end.
"Keep her as steady as you can. Once you bring Baby around for the extract, I can tend to her a little bit better. I'm good at being a combat medic. About to infiltrate the outpost now. Going into radio silence."
He cut the link.
"Who're…who're you talkin' to? Another Pole?" The girl asked. Pequod was about to answer, but then stopped himself. Maybe it was best for him to hold his tongue. And she was half delirious, so it would probably be best to keep things simple for her.
"Yeah. My boss."
"Who's…who's your boss?" She asked.
"Well, not really my boss. My, uh, wujek." Pequod said. She giggled a little bit.
"What…does that word mean?"
"It means 'uncle.'" Pequod said, taking the moment to survey her status. She had battered clothes and her feet were ripped up to all hell, but there was also some blood on her hands. He wasn't sure what from; she didn't seem cut.
"What's…what's his name?" She asked.
For someone drifting in and out of lucidity, she was awfully persistant.
"Uh…Karol. His name's Karol."
She giggled again, this time snorting.
"Carol's a girl's name!" Pequod found himself getting indignant.
"No it isn't! Not in Poland."
"Are we…are we in Poland?"
"No. We're in Afghanistan."
"That's…that's what…what I thought. So…Carol's a girl's name."
She was starting to slur her words a little bit, like she was too tired to speak. Sighing, Pequod looked at her in the eyes. She had a glazed smile on her face, like she was high.
"Let's get you off the ground. I'll carry you into the helicopter, okay?"
"Ohh, tha'ss nice 'a you…" the woman said. "Awf'lly gen…gentleman…like."
Pequod grabbed her and lifted her up and carried her bridal-style into the ACC. He laid her on the cot, where Quiet normally laid down, and draped a thick flight coat over her. She shivered a little bit, but snuggled in tightly. He thought he heard her muttering something to herself, but whatever it was he didn't understand it.
…
Another hour passed. He checked his watch. About half past four in the morning. Knowing the Boss, he was probably just about to make his move after spending the last sixty minutes or so just reconning the place. Pequod yawned. This was probably a good time to check the systems on Baby so that she'd be ready to go whenever the Boss needed her.
"Hey."
He nearly jumped out of his seat. He'd almost forgotten that the woman was back there. He turned around in the cockpit, and saw that she was sitting upright. She was clutching the flight coat close to her chest, as if afraid to let it go and give up some of the warmth, and she had a more awake look on her face.
"H-hey." Pequod managed to say.
"What's your name?" The woman asked.
"Call me Pequod." He said, after a moment's hesitation. She frowned.
"That's a strange name."
"Well…it's not really my name." Pequod said. "But you can call me that. I'm a soldier. It's my callsign." He cursed himself for revealing so much about himself to her. But then she spoke.
"I'm a soldier, too. I just think that Pequod is kind of a strange name."
"There's a reason to it." Pequod said. "I'll let the Boss explain it to you."
"Is that Wujek?" She asked, inquisitively. Pequod tried not to smile, and nodded.
"Yeah, that's Wujek. I think you'll like him. Just…don't be afraid of him, ok? He looks a little rough, but he's alright."
"Ok." She said.
"You got a name?" Pequod asked.
"Yeah."
"What is it?"
"You didn't tell me yours, I'm not telling you mine."
"Oh, that's not fair."
"Life isn't fair."
"Not very smart to be criticizing the guy who saved you."
To his surprise, she laughed at this. Hard. And then she started clutching her ribs in pain.
"Ahahaowhaha, ow, don't make me laugh I think I broke a few ribs in my escape. And no, you didn't save my life. I was doing just fine without you. Broke out of a prison camp and ran for it, and would've made it, too."
"Really." Pequod said, raising an eyebrow and completely unconvinced. But then he saw a flash in her eyes that suggested that she wasn't kidding, so he didn't press the matter.
"Really." She said, pausing for breath. And then she groaned in exhaustion. "My head hurts. I'm gonna lie down."
"You're awfully calm for someone that has been picked up by a stranger." Pequod noted.
"Ahab to Pequod. Requesting immediate exfil. Make room for two more; we've got some prisoners."
Pequod flipped on the necessary switches, and within moments he felt the rotors above him come to life and start whirring. A few moments after that, Baby got off the ground with a lurch.
"This is Pequod. Approaching LZ. Request air-to-ground support?"
"Negative, Pequod. No hostiles."
"Affirmative. See you in a few, Boss. And tell Quiet that she's gonna have to stand for this ride back."
"Understood, Pequod. Ahab out."
Tilting the throttle forward, Pequod felt Baby nose forward and cut through the air towards the marked location on his radar. He saw a tuft of green smoke lazily rising up in the distance, and knew that that was the Boss signaling for him.
When they were safely in the air, Pequod risked a look back at his new passenger.
But she was already fast asleep.
A/N: Just another day working for the Boss.