A/N: I own nothing except the laptop I wrote this story on.
Pequod drummed his fingers atop the surface of the table. He was sitting at the back of the room, preferring to be in an area where the lights weren't the strongest. The others that had been called into the briefing room were few in number. That alone tipped the pilot off to the thought that this was no average mission. That, plus the fact that they had been instructed to report at 1800 sharp (right in the middle of dinner, no less) and there was still no sign of any commanding presence made it clear that something was up. If it was one of the regular base commanders, they'd be there sharp. It was usually Ocelot that was a few minutes late to every briefing.
When he'd asked about it, Ocelot had told Pequod that he enjoyed making people sweat a little bit.
The door opened off to the side of the room, and true to form Commander Ocelot came out front and center. Pequod was surprised, however, to see that Commander Miller was also with him. Those two never gave orders together.
"Alright, looks like everyone is here." Ocelot said. He tapped a manila folder in his hands. "While Miller here warms up the projector, I'd like to make it clear that everything you hear in this room is strictly confidential, and you are not to disclose your mission orders with anyone on Mother Base."
There was a tense silence as these words were taken in. The wall behind Ocelot turned blue as the projector screen came to life, and soon there were several photos of people up on the wall.
"These are several high-level British officials in the CFA." Miller began. "They're currently being held captive by their Afrikaner colleagues."
"So we rescue all of them, then?" Wounded Fox asked. He was one of the few people recruited for this mission, though it was clear that he wasn't leading it. Miller stared at him coldly.
"Wait your turn, soldier. Our target is an individual known as 'the Viscount.' He's a mysterious individual, but the people contacting us for this mission have made it very clear that he must be rescued. He is priority number one."
"What about the others?" Fox asked.
Miller just stared at him, and Fox fell silent.
"The mission parameters are simple. A small fireteam of three individuals will make their way into the area, and will locate the Viscount. Once he's been recovered, you are to exfiltrate the area. Pequod and his chopper will be standing by for an immediate evac. The pick-up point is marked here on the map." Miller said. He gestured to a spot that had been highlighted. "If you have any questions, now is the time. Otherwise, your orders are simple search and rescue."
No one said anything.
"Good. Pequod will be departing in an hour. It's a bit of a trip to get to the Angola region. Make sure you have everything that you need. Dismissed."
The others in the room shuffled out, leaving Pequod behind. He knew that there was a reason for it, however.
"You wanted me to stick around, sir?" He asked, looking pointedly at Ocelot and not Miller.
"Yeah." Ocelot said. "You've been doing a darned good job flying the Boss in and out of hot zones, but for a mission like this we figured it might be nice to give you some backup."
Pequod chuckled.
"Backup? All I need is enough fuel and ammo and I can make do with just about anything."
"I get that, kid. But here's the thing. This isn't your call to make. Consider it some on-site training." Ocelot said. "We're designating you a co-pilot."
There was a dead silence in the air. Miller smirked when he spoke.
"Why, Pequod, you look like someone just walked over your grave." He said.
…
As the sun was going down, Wounded Fox checked his equipment. He had brought his UN-ARC assault rifle, a tranquilizer pistol, and a couple of smoke grenades. He saw that the Intel team representative was his old friend Fighting Osprey, who was packing a silenced AK-47 and equal equipment to match Fox. But their commanding officer was…
"Hey, honey!" Howling Badger said. She had just finished racking her rifle up on the ceiling of the ACC, and turned to help Wounded Fox get his things aboard as well. "Excited for some field work?"
"Yeah, I am." Fox said. "I mean, I usually do the clean-up stuff after the Boss has already cleared out an area, so this is my first pro-active mission but…" he trailed off. "I'm ready!"
"Of course you are." Badger said with a grin. "Just follow my lead and it will all work itself out." She turned to Osprey. "You familiar with the kinds of languages we'll run into in Angola?"
"There's most likely going to be English, Afrikans, and maybe Kikongo." Osprey said. "I'm pretty fluent in Afrikans, but I'll really have to listen hard for Kikongo. That's a rough language for me to understand, though I speak it alright."
"That's moreso than I can." Badger said. "And I doubt Philly here can speak much Kikongo."
"Ki-what now?" Fox asked.
"My point exactly." Badger did one last check-through of everyone's equipment, and signaled for the pilots that everything was all clear.
…
Sitting up in the pilot's seat, Pequod did his best not to acknowledge the presence next to him. He was so used to be in charge of everything up on the helicopter by himself, that the very thought of a co-pilot was anathema to him.
And to make matters worse, this was who they'd assigned to him.
"Ready to get things taken care of, boss?" Spitting Dragon asked, looking at Pequod and winking. Somehow, her Welsh accent just made that innocently coy tone of voice all the more infuriating. He just nodded, and flipped the switches up on the dash to start warming Baby up.
Behind them, in the ACC, the three Diamond Dogs were all getting themselves acclimated to their new ride.
"Aw, that's adorable." Badger said to herself quietly. "The Boss hangs up pictures of people."
"Really? I wondered what all of those things were." Fox said. "Think I'm on one of the walls."
"Doubt it."
"Fuck off, Osprey."
"Both of you, cool it." Badger said, somewhat sternly. "There's far too little space for you to get into one of your little slap-fights on the helicopter. And I imagine that Pequod will throw you overboard if you do."
"Believe it!" Spitting Dragon said, as the helicopter started to lift off of the pad.
Even Pequod had to smile at that one.
…
They stayed at a friendly (and off-grid) base after having flown for twelve hours, allowing them to properly plan for a night-time extraction. Ocelot had estimated, based on the urgency of the intelligence that his Intel Team had given him, that the Viscount, whatever his name was, had roughly three days before he was worthless to his captors and they'd just get rid of him. So if the timing worked out, this night would be the night that he either outlived his usefulness…or the Dogs reached him first.
It was just past sunset as Baby flew low over a forest that seemed to be placed in the middle of an African plain as a sort of oasis. At this light, the helicopter looked no different than any of the others that might fly through the area, or even masquerade as one of Cipher's.
"Not picking up any air traffic." Spitting Dragon said. "Though there's an airport a little bit south of here. I don't think we want to get too close to that: they might start asking questions."
"Understood." Pequod said. He tilted the navigational controls, and Baby began to descend near the drop-off point.
"Remember boys: no chatter unless necessary. They'll pick something up otherwise." Badger said. The other Dogs, having applied camoflague warpaint, nodded in unison.
Baby had reached a safe drop-off point, and the doors to the ACC hissed open.
"Go!" Badger hissed.
…
Fox hit the ground with a shock. He shook his feet out a little bit, and looked around. There was a whistling of wind in the air, but other than that no inclement weather of note. Osprey had landed right next to him, and Badger was right in front of them. Wordlessly, the two of them fell in behind her to form a triangle shape. Slowly, they made their way through the dark, with only the sounds of crickets around them.
Presently, they came upon the village. There were lights in a few of the huts, and there were guards in the towers and patrols going in and out of the main road. Badger held up a hand, and the others sank down to their knee behind her. She slowly brought her hand over to her lapel, where she kept a radio, and pressed the communication button.
"Base, this is Diamond One. Have visual confirmation on village, over." She whispered.
There was a pause.
"Diamond One, this is Base. You're a little choppy, but we can read you. Try to find information on where the Viscount is being kept. Use whatever resources you have at your disposal. Base out."
With Miller's voice no longer in their ears, Badger slowly turned to face the two men behind her.
"You two make your way into the village. Through that building right there." She pointed to one of the huts on the edge. "Get a read on the Viscount's location, and then let me know when you've got him."
"What are you going to do?" Fox asked. Badger just smiled.
"When you give the word, I'll run interference. But don't worry." She drew her weapon, a high-scoped AM-MRS-4 with laser sight and suppressor. "I'll be with you." She then gestured forward. "Move up. I'm going to find a better lookout point."
Fox barely got in a word before she seemingly melted into the darkness.
"…Shit." Osprey said after a moment. "We're screwed."
"Keep it together." Fox whispered, motioning for the Afghan to follow him towards the house in question. "Just follow my lead, and we'll get the Viscount's location."
"…Screwed."
"Fuck off."
…
Badger slowly crept through the tall grass, keeping to the edge of the camp. There were an awful lot of soldiers on duty right now, but from the body language of most of them they looked like they were bored out of their skull. That might make things a little bit easier.
She stopped moving in the middle of a patch of tall grass, and saw that there was a soldier idly waiting over by the foot of a guard tower. He was enjoying a cigarette before he went back on duty. She debated shooting him then and there, but sat and waited. After a few moments, he crushed the butt under his shoe, and started climbing the ladder up to his post. As soon as he'd started climbing, Badger slinked up to the base of the tower, and started climbing up after him. She took great pains not to move out of synch with him, lest he notice that something was up. When he'd gotten up to the tower itself, she waited. Waited for him to relax and forget about watching his flank. Her eyes were level with his shoes, and her hands were resting on the edge of the tower floor. She lurked, and waited.
And then she sprang upwards, propelling herself up by pushing down on her hands. The poor bastard didn't even see her until she'd already locked in the chokehold, and in mere seconds he was snoring. Badger smiled.
"Sweet dreams, honey."
She kissed him on the cheek. And then she ziptied his hands and feet together, and covered his mouth with some packing tape (while leaving plenty of room for his nostrils and a slit in the tape for him to breathe). She set herself up on the edge of the tower, and peered down with her scope. She watched the two boys work up the nerve to get inside one of the buildings, and smiled despite herself.
This was just like hunting game back home in the outback.