Kingpin: Part 2.
In the tropics; when it rains, it pours. Ghost had always known this fact. Right now, the weather in Brazil was just awful. It was now dark, and Ghost's team, along with the Brazilians, were now hiding in the thick vegetation the Amazon had aplenty. The Lieutenant had his mask pulled halfway up to facilitate his smoking habits; even though Roach keeps telling him to stop. He couldn't help it right now.
"Captain Price; Captain MacTavish, are there any signs of movement on the road, over?" he asks through his comms.
"No, not yet," Price replied "we haven't seen anything worth our attention, mate."
"We'd tell you when we see 'em." MacTavish says.
"Copy." The Lieutenant now flicked his cigarette away and stared onto the dirt tracks their target's convoy is supposed to go. He couldn't see shit; the mosquitoes were now taking sips of his blood; and he was fucking groggy right now. He wondered about this "Kaffarov" guy their target Reyes was supposed to meet. Shepard seemed pretty sure it was Makarov. I mean, picking a name for an alias out of a kickass video game pretty much screams "Terrorist", right?
'More like overcompensating 12 year old' he thought.
Ghost looked around his temporary shelter, seeing Meat listening to his mp3 player filled with 90's and early 2000's rap songs. 'Because the new ones aren't that good..." he remembered Meat saying. To his left, Roach could be seen cleaning his weaponry. Ghost closed his eyes and tried to remember the battle plan.
Gen. Shepard has just left; the insides of the tent fall silent as all present had their eyes on Ghost. He slowly approaches the table and said to his higher-ranking Brazilian counterpart "I couldn't understand why Shepard didn't choose you for this." Ghost eyed the map and the intel sprawled all across. "You're clearly higher-ranking than me, sir."
"Well, High Command saw it fit to hand responsibility for Reyes' capture to you, Lieutenant." he said whilst lighting a cigarette "That way, Brazil could get rid of another nuisance."
Ghost chuckled. "Right, listen up." he orders. Everyone walked closer to the planning table. "Shepard says Reyes will be meeting with a bigshot Russian "businessperson" in this here safehouse." he says as he points to the building on the satellite photo. "All the major pathways to the safehouse have been kindly illustrated by Brazilian intelligence. Cpt. Price and MacTavish will be providing sniping support from a concealed position nearby."
"So will Archer and Toad." MacTavish interjected.
"Right, Archer and Toad too. Major Silva, I'm going to need you wait by these two phase lines I'll draw for you right now." Ghost took a blue ballpoint pen and drew two lines on the map. "The first half of your company will be waiting in Phase Line Alpha two-hundred and fifty meters to the North of the safehouse. The second half would be waiting in Phase Line Bravo nearly a kilometre away." Major Silva nodded in agreement.
"What about air support?" Meat asked.
"We'll handle the air support, Meat." replied Price "What you'll get is to be determined by the threat level present in the area. Since we'll be taking on a drug dealer with squadrons of technicals at the most, we shouldn't need the Brazilian Air Force's help."
"Major Silva, is your company equipped with Anti-Tank weapons?" Ghost asked.
"Why wouldn't it be?"
"Good. We'll be needing them in case light armor shows up. Roach, Meat and I are going to wait in the forest by the main path two clicks North, ready to ambush any buggers dumb enough to slow down." Roach and Meat nodded. Ghost grabbed a photocopy of Reyes' schedule for the current week. "According to this, Reyes will arrive at the safehouse at 10:40 p.m. local time."
"The weather reports say that a heavy rain is on the way." Maj. Silva stated "Since the path to Reyes' safehouse is made of dirt, we could use that rain to turn the path into a muddy mess..."
"...bogging them down and allowing us time to disguise ourselves and silently take their vehicles." Ghost finished.
"Precisely!"
"Ghost, I'm seeing some activity on the road. It looks like a convoy of fifteen vehicles; all technicals." MacTavish said through the comms.
Ghost snapped out from his memory trip. "Solid copy. We're Oscar Mike." he replied. Turning to his two teammates, he signalled them that it was time to roll. The convoy was still far ahead, but the three 141 operatives didn't waste any time. Thunder cracked the skies as the rain continued to pour down, but Ghost didn't care. He likes it when this happens on a mission; it makes him feel like fucking Batman.
They hit the dirt once they were close enough. The first vehicle zoomed past; so did the second, third, fourth...all the way to the last three. The convoy grinded to a halt once they noticed that the last three got stuck in the mud. After this happened, three Russians; one in red Hawaiian shirt, one in a khaki jacket and white shirt, and one in light-blue; stepped out of the last vehicle to examine the damage. "We need those outfits. Team, take them out..." Ghost pulled his knife out. "...silently."
The three sidestepped to their right until they were right behind the last vehicle. Roach picked the Hawaiian-shirted guy having a smoke. He slowly approached him from behind and readied his fiber wire. Meat picked the one in light blue, who was fixing the engine, and killed him with a butterfly knife to the back of his head. Ghost took the man in the khaki jacket sitting inside the SUV and stabbed him through the headrest. Roach and Meat put the bodies inside the truck and changed into their disguises. Ghost did the same.
"Right, where'll we put our weapons, sir?" Roach asked.
"Just hide them underneath your uniforms." Ghost replied before asking "How's your Russian these days, Roach?"
"достаточно хорошо"
"How will my company know if you're among them?" Major Silva asked.
"Meat will be banging his head once we reach the second phase line."
That caught Meat off-guard. "What?"
"Roach, you'd better bring one of your Rammstein CD's." Ghost continued "We're gonna use them so that Major Silva knows that it's us."
Roach beamed. 'This is gonna rock!' he thought. He REALLY loves that band. Price, MacTavish, and Major Silva just chuckled.
"Nuh-uh, I ain't gonna bang my head, sir!" Meat said. "I don't like the feeling it gives my head when it's done."
"My arse...Roach, once we get near the second phase line, YOU will bang your head."
Roach nodded. He went back to the chopper to get the CDs.
"Right. So once we get inside, I'm going to pop a flare and take them by surprise. Captains Price and MacTavish-"
"-Toad and Archer, too." the Scot corrected.
"Yes, Toad and Archer too. They will provide sniper support and prevent us from getting pinned down while we search for Reyes and Makarov. Where will we head for extract, Captain MacTavish?"
"There's this town called "San Victorio" that's a few clicks North-East of Reyes' safehouse." MacTavish explained "Head three clicks west, that's where you'll find evac. They'll take you to a Brazilian Army installation. We'll be waiting for you there at 0500; November 6th."
"Okay, got it."
"Remember Ghost: once the assault is finished, we'll pull out of the area. Archer, Toad, and the Brazilians will be your only support by then." Price warned.
"Roger." was Ghost's reply.
"Once the assault's finished, Price and MacTavish will pull out of the area." Ghost told Meat and Roach.
"If they pull out, who's covering our backs?" Meat asked his superior.
"Archer, Toad, and the Brazilians. Why, Meat? Don't you remember?"
"Sorry, sir." Meat said back. "I'm just making sure..."
After removing his skull-mask, Ghost checked the mirrors on the side, as well as the rear-view one. Once he determined it to be good enough, he asked for Roach to give him his ballistic vest. The Welshman gave it to him as he was putting his own on as well, while Meat picked up Roach's balaclava which earned him a death glare from the man. "What? How do you think am I going to pass for a Russian?" Roach thought about it, and let Meat go.
Once the vehicles in front of them got out of the mud, Ghost restarted the engine and followed the trail. 'So far, so good' Ghost thought.
Soon, they reached Phase Line Bravo. "Roach, please give me the CD." Ghost requested. Roach took it out of his rucksack; it was old by the looks of it. Slightly torn, with the color slightly fading. Ghost took the disc out and put it inside the player. "Track number 1" the display said. First, what they heard were a bunch of disembodied "Woahs" that lasted a few seconds that then turned into an epic plethora of electric guitar sounds. Roach started to bang his head, though not to the extent of what he usually does when he's alone.
"Lieutenant Riley, this is Maj. Silva." Ghost heard.
"Copy, sir."
"We have eyes on your position. Just tell us when. Good luck."
"Roger that, sir."
Eventually, the reached the safehouse. It was a rather average-sized colonial-style mansion with plenty of guards all around, and bordered by a concrete wall with barbed wire on top. Every vehicle was subject to security checks by the armed contingent charged with protecting the mansion's owner. What seemed like a lot of time passed, and now Ghost's vehicle was getting checked.
"Where's your identification card?" a tough-looking thug asks.
Ghost suddenly felt panicked. He began rummaging through his commandeered clothes' pockets for any ID card he could present to the guard. The guard was now looking at him Kubrick-style, impatiently tapping his hand on the AKM he's holding. "Uhh...wait for a minute." Ghost said in a fake Russian accent. Three minutes later...
"Here it is!"
The undercover Brit handed the ID card to him. "Alexei Borodin" it said "Age: 30; Blood type: O; Nationality: Russian." The guard studied the man in the picture and Ghost's face. Fortunately, the resemblance is spot-on. "Alright, you can pass."
Ghost rolled the windows up after thanking the guard and parked on the nearest empty space he could find. The rain stopped by now, so all he and his team have to worry about is the mud. Once he, Roach, and Meat were on the outside, the latter saw someone a teensy bit recognizable.
"Lieutenant?" he whispered.
"What is it?"
Meat pointed to a green-clothed fellow talking to a middle-aged Brazilian. He looked Caucasian; with short, black hair. He was surrounded by men with Ultranationalist flag patches, and armed to the teeth to boot.
"It looks kind of like..."
"It's Makarov."
I really hope I got the character's attitudes and military tactics right. Sorry for any inaccuracies I've made. :(