"Ghost, the plates are a match," Soap spoke into the radio. He sat in the passenger seat of a white van, with their driver at the wheel, and Sisko sitting in the back. The sun drifted lazily through the windows, landing on Sisko's curly black hair, which had been pulled back into a secure ponytail and brought through the rear of a camouflage baseball cap. She fiddled impatiently with her ACR, waiting for the moment where she could get out of the van and start shooting stuff. Even after getting to know her driver all the while they were following some Militians, she couldn't bring herself to tell him what was going to happen. She could save his life, save his family all the heartbreak of losing him, but somewhere in the back of her head, she knew she couldn't. Even the slightest alteration of the gameplay might destroy her chances of survival, and she needed to be sure to stay alive, at least until she could plant a bullet in the head of that bastard general.
"Copy," Ghost finally replied, "Any sign of Rojas's right hand man?" Sisko groaned in frustration, growing more and more impatient by the minute. Soap glared at her from the front seat, instantly restoring her tolerance. He continued his conversation with Ghost.
"Negative, they've stopped twice already- no sign of him," he responded. They'd been following the same guys around for God knows how long, not even to find Rojas, but his stupid assistant, who would end up being tortured and probably killed, but they left that part out in the game. Under a minute later, Sisko felt the van come to a halt. Soap eagerly contacted Ghost on the radio to update him with information.
"Wait, they've stopped again, standby," he instructed, watching the man in front of him closely. Sisko rolled her eyes, and, with much experience with what happened next, she ducked her head down, but Soap was too involved in what he was doing to notice. Two men stepped out of the van, both holding guns aimed at an open door on the side of an orange building. Another man, who Sisko knew was the man they were after, stepped out of the building, his hands held up. Obviously, that was what Soap wanted to see.
"Got a positive I.D.," he noted, "Whoever these guys are, they're not happy to see 'im." The men slowly moved forward, assuring that Rojas's assistant had no way of escape. In the blink of an eye, the man who'd had his hands up in surrender whipped out a gun and shot his attackers.
"Ghost, we have a situation here!" Sisko heard Soap say, "Get down! Get down!" She had nothing to worry about, seeing as she was already down, but the driver had another thing coming. Several bullets came through the windshield, breaking the glass into pieces. One bullet found its way into the forehead of the driver, exploding in a fury of blood. It was weird, what happened. Sisko felt bad, sure, but she didn't want to cry, or scream, or even think about it. Even knowing that the driver had someone who would be hurt to know he died, she just couldn't seem to muster up enough emotion to think more of the incident than she would have if she were playing the game. She couldn't believe it. Had her sympathy been simply raped by the violence she'd experienced in video games? Or was there something else that repelled her feelings of sorrow? There was no time for an answer, when Soap pulled open the door of the van and ushered her out.
"He's getting away! Nike, let's go! Let's go!" he yelled, pulling out his gun in preparation to immobilize the target. Sisko quickly got to her feet and began running, pounding after her Captain, who was already far ahead of her. Forgetting the incident less than a minute beforehand, she tripped over the bloody bodies of the men who the assistant had shot. Blood coated her arms, and her ACR skidded against the hot pavement. She grew frustrated, but picked herself up, not even bothering to wipe some of the blood off of her shirt. She picked up her rifle and sped forward. Soap's voice broke in through the radio.
"Ghost! Our driver is dead, we're on foot! Meet us at the Hotel Rio and cut him off if you can!" he ordered, not ceasing his breakneck running. Sisko picked up the pace and managed to catch up with Soap.
"Roger, I'm on my way!" Ghost responded. Hundreds of civilians fled from the duo as they ran through the streets, wreaking havoc among all of the terrified people. Glancing around, Sisko noticed the carnage that had been strewn out all around them. There were cars in flames, pools of blood, and innocent people dying on the ground. Sounds of gunfire not far away indicated to Sisko that Rojas's assistant was still within her grasp. Being so consumed with the intensity of the mission, she hardly noticed as Ghost emerged from the side of a building and joined with his comrades, determined to capture the man who had caused so much chaos.
"He went into the alley!" Ghost alerted his colleagues. Sisko clasped her hand on the hilt of her ACR, wrapping her finger around the trigger in preparation for the incapacitation she knew she needed to cause. Soap instantly began giving orders, reassuring her of what she already knew to do.
"Non-Lethal take downs only, we need him alive!" Soap directed. The trio burst into the alleyway, dodging dumpsters and litter as they tried to keep up. Rojas's assistant, not far ahead at this point, ran violently through the passageway, knowing that his time of capture was near.
"Nike-Take the shot! Go for his legs!" Soap commanded. Sisko had already prepared, setting her feet firmly and gazing through the ACOG scope. She pulled back the trigger, and without difficulty, she sent several bullets through the man's left leg. Without warning, he toppled over, not able to run any farther.
"He's down," Soap noted. I noticed, Sisko thought. Ghost and Soap ran forward to secure their enemy. Soap tied his hands behind his back, lifting him up to his feet and forcefully pushing him over to a nearby storage unit. Ghost huffed, adjusting the headphones that rested outside of his balaclava. Sisko couldn't help but chuckle. What the hell was a balaclava? She had no idea, but the word just sounded too strange not to laugh at. Ghost caught her eye. Apparently, upon zoning out, her eyes had locked onto him. Ghost coughed, attempting to get her attention. She blinked back to reality- or whatever it was she was in- and shook her head.
"Oh, hey Ghost," she said nonchalantly, giving an innocent wave of her hand. Ghost looked her up and down. Her T-shirt was coated in blood. How on Earth could she have been shot? There was only one enemy anywhere near her, and Soap was closer to him than she was. He was a bit worried, so he decided to bring it up.
"What happened to you?" he asked, noting her bloody clothes. Sisko was confused, but looked down to notice the blood herself.
"Oh, yeah! Don't worry, it's just Brazilian gangster blood," she said, with the vigor that definitely didn't fit the statement. Ghost stared her up and down for a minute. How in the hell could she be so jaunty when all that was around her were people dying? He shook his head, unable to find an answer outside of drugs and brainwashing.
"That's wonderful, Nike," he muttered sarcastically. He went back over to Soap and offered assistance with immobilizing their man. Within a few minutes, Soap and Ghost managed to get Rojas's assistant tied up to a chair in the garage. Ghost stood to the man's side, fiddling with cables attached to a battery. He repeatedly struck the two ends of the cables together, causing sparks to guarantee that the maximum amount of pain would be issued. Sisko eagerly stared at the setup, wondering whether or not she'd be able to see it all go down. Soap approached the front of the garage, preparing to close it and leave Sisko to herself.
"Nike, this is going to take some time. Go with Meat and Royce and check out the Favela for any sign of Rojas—that's where this guy was headed," he explained. Sisko groaned, disappointed in his decision.
"But I wanna stay here and help you guys torture stuff!" she complained. Soap glared back at her, not appreciating her humor. She shut her mouth, deciding to change her mind.
"I guess I can…can go with them…" she mumbled halfheartedly. Soap nodded firmly before shutting the door, allowing Sisko and her new companions. Royce was tall and bulky, with short brown hair, whereas Meat had a darker complexion and donned a baseball cap similar to hers. Both men were a good four inches taller than her. Royce was the first to speak up.
"Yo Nike, you ready?" he inquired. Sisko nodded.
"Let's kick some ass!" she replied, determined to stop anything that got in her way. She felt a bit bad at that moment, knowing that both men would probably die within minutes of starting the mission, but hey, it was nice to have some sort of backup for the time being.
Royce nodded, sporting a big smile. "Yeah, let's do it!" he responded, upping the willpower of the trio. Meat managed to smile, but without any vocalization. Sisko found it strange, how someone could be with such a confident group of military personnel and by some means manage to keep his mouth shut for longer than thirty seconds without exploding from lack of input in a conversation. Royce began trekking forward, signaling for Sisko and Meat to follow after him. His tone turned serious and grim as the mission began to reach the maximum degree of importance. The M4A1 in his hands was held steadily, with the finesse that Sisko still hadn't managed to attain.
Being the undecided leader of the group, Royce began giving information and allotting tasks to the members of his troop. "Remember, there are civilians in the Favela. Watch your fire out there," he directed firmly, subsequently turning around to face Meat, "Meat, get these civvies outta here."
Meat nodded, raising his UMP45 to the air and firing. People in the desolate village began screaming, afraid for their lives. He called out words in a foreign language, which Sisko assumed was Portugese, knowing that they were in Brazil. All of the residents of the Favela escaped to safety, and before the soldiers could even blink their eyes, the inhabitants were replaced with Militia. There were dozens upon dozens of them, all filing out into the Favela in a disorderly fashion. Each one possessed his own weapon, and each one wanted to kill the three people that needed to stay alive. Sisko swallowed the lump in her throat. She was nervous as Hell, but she knew that for her own protection she needed to get over herself. She wasn't in charge of her destiny, after all. What self-respecting 15-year-old would join the army? Sisko shook her head, ridding herself of unnecessary thoughts. She brought the ACOG scope up to her eye and gazed through, being the first to fire.
Her bullets traveled straight through the stomach of one of the men, who cringed before falling over in defeat. After that one action, all Hell broke loose. Every last one of the Militia began firing their weapons at the combatants. Sisko dived forward, getting behind a rusted out car. Meat and Royce came right after her, skillfully killing several men. The fire did not cease, seeing that with every downed Militian, another came to take his place. It was just like she'd remembered- Unlimited enemies and very limited support. She tossed a frag grenade tentatively at the men in the window, and after a few seconds, it went off, killing them all. She smiled.
"Woah, badassery," she joked with herself. She got her mind straight when she heard the sickening sound of bullets colliding with flesh. She darted her eyes over to her teammates, only to watch in horror as Meat stumbled back, gripping his chest. Blood came gushing out in several places, despite the fact that he wore a bullet proof vest. Royce didn't bother to notice, and he kept focused on his work.
"Meat is down!" he spoke thickly, his eyes fixed on his next target. Sisko knew she couldn't have herself distracted either, so she sighed and turned back around. After a few more minutes of battle, Sisko saw her opportunity to press forward.
"Cover me!" she shouted through the gunfire. She got up from behind the car and zipped through the open lot, protecting herself behind a metal barrel, which she assured herself, was not explosive. She turned back towards Royce.
"Come on!" she yelled, ushering him to join her. He killed one last enemy before he sprinted over to her position. In the alleyway ahead, dozens more enemies broke into action, firing their weapons with the little ability they had. Sisko glanced over at Royce before she looked back at the battlefield.
"You go up ahead, I'll cover you!" she yelled, killing two targets in succession. He nodded and ran ahead, counting on Sisko to cover him. She shot the men left and right, nearly smiling to see that she'd already managed to become so skilled with a gun. Everywhere she'd fire, a man would go down. At one point, a man looked out from around a corner, and Sisko was quick to respond, by shooting him point-blank in the chest. He stumbled long enough for Sisko to realize what she'd done.
She rushed forward. "ROYCE!"
He coughed up blood, his breaths getting shallow, and Sisko felt tears coming to her eyes. He was so kind to her, and she'd thanked him by committing her first friendly fire. Before she could reach him, he stumbled to the ground.
"I-I'm hit…" he muttered before the lines went totally blank.