The fourth one.
Kingpin: Part IV.
Hearts racing, gas burning, bullets flying; that's what the men (and woman) in the truck sense right now. Meat floored it the moment Roach and his girl closed the door. By then, Makarov and Reyes were already far away. A few hundred meters away, Price and MacTavish were doing all they can to keep the mercs off their subordinates' backs.
"Major, we're in pursuit of Reyes! Keep your eyes peeled, they're heading for Phase Line Alpha!" Ghost yelled through the radio.
Silva heard this through his comms. "Roger, Lt. Riley!" he replied before ordering his men "Phase line Alpha, target is incoming! Phase line Bravo, get ready!"
The Brazilians in the first phase line hurriedly grabbed their equipment while their commander, a Lieutenant, whipped out his binoculars to see if their target was anywhere near them. There they saw Makarov's SUV, followed by several pickup trucks full of heavily-armed thugs. "Men, there they are! OPEN FIRE!"
Makarov's eyes widened when he saw a Brazilian soldier shoot a rocket at his vehicle. He quickly manoeuvred the Chevy and dodged the projectile, which hit the technical behind him. The truck flew as it burned, throwing off the men on board like a sprinkler throws water. Soon, explosions permeated the ground, and Makarov got out from the SUV with a Krinkov in hand. "PIZDA!" he swore at the Brazilians. The terrorist flipped the selector switch to semi-automatic and took several potshots at any Brazilian that stuck his head up.
The thugs behind Makarov followed their leader, exiting their technicals except for the men driving and manning the machine guns. Once Meat saw this, he pulled the Hilux to a stop. "Meat, what the hell are you doing?" Ghost asked. "Well, what're we gonna do? Floor it and hope for the best?" Ghost groaned and left the pickup with Meat. Roach told his girl "Cristina, I'll be back, okay?"
Cristina nodded. "Okay," she says in English "just come back safe."
Roach grabbed his M4A1 and kissed her goodbye. The man doesn't speak Portuguese, but he was lucky that Cristina knew English.
By the time Roach left, Ghost and Meat were already firing at the thugs. He took one last look at where he left Cristina, before sprinting to the nearest cover: a mound of earth with a dead mercenary lying on it. Roach aimed his ACOG at several thugs, expertly taking them out of the fight with two shots to the torso and one to the head. He killed ten thugs before needing to reload. Ghost was taking cover behind a wrecked, bullet hole filled technical when he had an idea.
"Meat! Cover me, I'm gonna use the machine gun!"
Meat nodded. He raised himself up from where he was hiding to take out some FAL-holding goons with his own rifle. This went on for thirty seconds before...
"GET SOME, YOU BUGGERS!" Ghost let loose a hail of .50 caliber bullets on the company-sized detachment of goons. This firefight just turned into a massacre, with every goon Ghost pointed at turning into something like what you'd find in a butcher shop.
"Ghost, watch out! I see more tangos coming out of the tree line!" MacTavish said through the radio.
Ghost turned to his left and saw five hundred or so pissed-off militia members. "You've got to be kidding me!" he exclaimed.
Suddenly, he felt someone pull him from behind. Ghost yelped as the militia member attempted to strangle him. He tried to pull out his knife, but another one held his other hand. Ghost's vision started to blur and he starts to feel his life leave him. But before Death could take him away...
*PSH* The militia member's head popped. His friend was caught unawares. *PSH* His arm blew off.
"What the bloody-"
"Hey, Ghost!" the Lieutenant heard through the radio.
"Archer?" Ghost asked.
"Yeah, who'd you expect?" the ghillie-suited man replied. His spotter Toad, who was sitting next to him with binoculars in his hands, said to Ghost "You'd probably could use some help there, mate!"
"Yeah, a lot of help!" Ghost answered.
Archer racked the bolt on his .338 caliber L115A1 and chuckled. "Well then, keep your shit tucked. This one's free!"
Ghost heard a shot from the distance. As he was idle right there where he's standing, another mook saw this as an opportunity to whack the Brit. Fortunately, Archer's shot popped the bastard's head before he could even get a meter near Ghost. He tried to see if the ACR was still on slung on his back and when he saw it was, he drew it out and opened fire on the advancing contingent.
Back at the watchtower, Price and MacTavish were gradually plucking off the regiment-sized group trying to reinforce Makarov's position. They've already shot enough ammunition to fill Tony Montana's mansion with holes three times over, as well as enough coffee to fill the cups of a small town. Eventually, Price got tired of staring through his M14's Infra-red scope.
"The hell with this!" Price exclaimed as he took out a radio. "Trovão 6, this is Captain Price of Task Force 141. Fire mission: Danger Close at Grid..."
At a far-off distance, two Brazilian Army HM-1 Pantera attack helicopters heard Price's transmission. Their pilots radioed command to give them the go-ahead. When their request was approved, the two aircraft set course toward the battlefield.
MacTavish slowly glanced at his superior with his mouth agape. Price was sitting back with a mug full of coffe in one hand, another hand behind his head, and his sniper rifle on his lap. "Relax, Soap." he said "Just sit back and watch the fireworks."
Soon enough, the helis reached the coordinates provided by Price. They opened fire on the reinforcements, lighting up the once-dark battlefield with their cannon pods and missiles; producing a pyrotechnics show that could be seen for miles. The firefight stopped right then and there as all who partook in it watched the poor wankers get blown down to hell. Makarov, with a killcount of 12 Bazilian infantrymen without the aid of night vision goggles, used this opportunity to sneak out of the area with his close circle of allies, unnoticed by anyone.
The firefight went on once the bombardment was over. The Brazilians of Phase Line Alpha were getting chewed up, and Major Silva, bored out of his mind, ordered his troops to do a flanking maneuver to the mercenaries' right. The motherfuckers didn't know what was coming up to bite them in the ass.
"Abra fogo nas filhos da puta!" he ordered.
His troops leveled their rifles at the thugs and shot them all till they became Swiss cheese. It was all over. The time was 6:56 A.M. on Silva's watch, and the sun was already up. Ghost, Roach, and Meat looked around the field, seeing the damage they've caused. They counted at least 750 casualties; dead and wounded; for the thugs, counting the ones who got caught in the airstrike, while for the Brazilian soldiers: 120 casualties. Major Silva came up to Ghost and patted him on the back.
"You've done good, Lt. Riley." he says "Don't worry about the mess, we'll take care of it."
"But, we didn't catch Reyes..."
"Why do you say that?" Silva asks, offering Ghost a lighter.
Ghost pulled his mask up and drew a cigarette. "When Roach and I breached their conference room, Reyes and Makarov were in the bathroom, taking a piss. They escaped, sir." he explains.
Silva chuckled. "Nah, you may not have succeeded catching them, but you did succeed in weakening them. That's all that matters, Lieutenant."
Both men laughed. "Guess it makes things easier for you guys, eh?" Ghost asks. Silva nods in affirmation as he takes a drag. A short distance away, Roach was viewing what's left of their carnage. Meat came up to the Welshman and asked him "Hey, Roach! Did you bother to check up on your girl?" Roach's eyes widened in realization "Oh, shit!" he exclaims as he dashed back to the Hilux they've left behind. He was filled with worry by now, with all sorts of awful scenarios running through his head.
He reached the Hilux, but there was no sign of Cristina. He reloaded his rifle as he frantically calls "Cristina! Cristina! Where are you?". All his worries would've come true if it weren't for the cat that Roach found her amid a bunch of corpses of thugs with his PT92 in hand.
"Did you miss me, meu amor?" she asked in a way that would make men swoon.
Roach sighed in relief, "Thank God! Cristina, what kept you-"
"From doing this?" she chuckled before she continued "Well, I did it now, didn't I?"
She walked towards her lover, gave him his pistol, and held him tight. Roach did the same thing as though he were afraid that someone might take her away. He almost lost her now, and he doesn't want it to happen again.
They were both unaware of Captain MacTavish watching the scene from his position. He smiled before glancing at Price, who was asleep and snoring. He sighed, "Price, wake up!" he said, shaking the older of the two "We're leaving!". Price woke up and wiped the saliva from his mouth, "What time is it?" he asks Soap.
"0700"
"Is it over?"
Soap nods. Price got up and reached for the radio.
"Ghost, MacTavish and I are pulling out. Archer and Toad will be handling you two from now on. Price out."
"Roger that, Captain Price."
Major Silva extended his hand. "Well," he says "I guess this is goodbye, Lieutenant Riley."
Ghost shook the Major's hand. "'Till next time, sir." he replies. Meat, Roach and Cristina came up to them, with Silva looking at Cristina with some sort of sibling-like familiarity. "Ah, Corporal Rodrigues!" he greeted, causing the three 141 operatives a great deal of confusion.
"Corporal Rodrigues?" they asked in unison.
Cristina giggled, "Mmm-hmm. Didn't the Major tell any of you? I was sent to work for Reyes to gather information just so you could take care of him" she turned to Major Silva, who just scratched his head. "Heh, I guess I forgot to tell you guys..." Silva sheepishly says.
"Wait, Cristina...you're a spy?" Roach asks.
"Yes. Is there anything wrong?"
Roach just mumbled "Hot..."
Just then, Meat yelled out of the blue "OH MY GAWD, YOU'RE A SPAH!" before breaking into laughter. Everyone just stared at the American confusedly, except for Roach who was glaring at him. After his 10-second laugh trip, Meat looked around in awkward silence. Just then, Ghost told him:
"Meat, keep the Team Fortress 2 references to a minimum, will you?"
"Sorry sir."
Major Silva then spoke up. "Well, you'd better get going. We'll deal with any stragglers; don't you worry." Ghost then nodded at the Brazilians before strolling with his two comrades back to the pickup truck. Ghost went in first, taking the driver's seat, with Meat riding shotgun. Before Roach could get in, Cristina ran up to him and gave him a quick goodbye kiss.
"Be sure to write back, okay?" she asks in a flirtatious tone.
"Don't worry, I will." Roach replies.
Once he got into the truck, Cristina waved him goodbye. "Are we all set?" Ghost asks. His response was a chorus of "Yeah"s and "Uh-huh"s. "All right, then..." Ghost opened the radio and tuned in to where he wanted. The insides of the truck were then filled with the sounds of U2's "With or Without You" as Ghost bypassed the burning remains of the vehicles they've destroyed by way of driving into the field around them. As they left, every Brazilian they've passed saluted them. Ghost couldn't help but smile.
"Next stop: San Victorio!" he bellows.
Meanwhile, on a nearby cliff overlooking his now-ruined safehouse, Reyes was frantically trying to contact his "associate". After what seemed like forever, Reyes finally got a hold of "Kaffarov".
"Hello?" asks a Russian-sounding voice.
"Hello? Mr. Kaffarov? Yes, I'm really sorry for-"
"-For what?" the Russian angrily asked back. "This was a set-up, wasn't it? You were trying to get rid of me, weren't you?"
"No! It just...i-it's not my fault!"
"Mr. Reyes, this partnership deal is off!" the Russian yelled.
With a beep, the call was over. Reyes threw the phone to the ground in anger, spewing every profanity the Portuguese language has to offer. That went on until one of his men said:
"Sir, I see a truck with three men heading for San Victorio!"
Reyes knew who these men were. He turned to him and said "Ready the men, we're going to track this filho da puta down!"
That was when thirty six men boarded their technicals, setting course for the quaint little town of San Victorio. Where one thing would lead to another...
This is JGT-298, signing off!