A/N: Okay, I had to split the Cliffhanger Chapter into two parts, as it reached over 20 pages on the word program. I don't want to upload an extremely long chapter on the website. Plus...the mission itself is not done, but almost. Also, I'm taking Marching Band, Summer School, and AP summer assignments, so...I'm pretty much busy throughout the summer. Don't be surprised if I don't make an update for a long time.
Okay, now that's out of the way, please enjoy the new chapter and review.
High in the air—about 60,000 feet—the team was waiting at the rear section of the transport. They were about 50 miles away from the airbase to avoid radar detection. It was the middle of night, as they were going to perform a HAHO jump, or a High Altitude-High opening jump. A HAHO jump will allow the team to glide for longer distances—unlike a HALO jump—and they won't get detected by radar. All of them were inhaling 100% pure oxygen, as they need to flush the nitrogen from their blood stream. John's breathing was long and deep. He was so preoccupied with breathing that he didn't see MacTavish walking towards him. John looked up and saw the Captain holding a small remote and a helmet, but it wasn't any ordinary helmet. Once John got a better look at the helmet, he saw at the middle of the front section of the helmet had what it appears to be…
"Camera lens? What is this, sir?" John asked.
"It's something that the Intelligence Department came up," MacTavish replied in a somewhat annoyed voice. Whatever the Intelligence Department came up with, he didn't like it as much. "It's a S.A.R.H., a Surveillance and Recon Helmet. It's supposed to record everything that the user sees."
Roach must have heard MacTavish, as he asked, "Why, sir?"
The Captain shrugged his shoulders and replied, "Performance evaluations, video demonstrations for recruits, evidence, and—in grim cases—to discover what or who killed the user." He passed the helmet and the remote to John and added, "I want you to test the helmet on this mission, 'kay, Savior?"
John put the helmet on his head and saw that there was a one piece visor over his left eye, maybe to check the video feed. He then put the remote into his pocket and pressed RECORD. On the visor, the red dot icon appeared.
"Sure thing, sir," John replied as he fastened the helmet. "Where's the data being stored, sir?"
"There's a SD chip hard-drive between the inside of the helmet and the padding."
"60 seconds!" the pilot yelled behind him.
MacTavish stood in front of the ramp and ordered, "You heard him; line up!"
John held his breath, removed the nozzle of the oxygen mask from the plane's tank, and attached it to the oxygen bottle in his pack. Roach followed John's lead and together they formed behind Captain MacTavish.
"30 seconds…" the pilot yelled again.
Everyone checked their kits, making sure their parachutes were packed right. Then they checked their gear…
Weapons…check and secured.
Altimeter and GPS…check.
Knives…check.
Radio…check.
Ammunition, freeze-dried food, matches, canteens, and hand-warmer patches…all check.
"10 seconds!"
Everyone waited for the ramp to be lowered. Soon, the ramp started to lower and they felt the stinging cold of the night air. Everyone put on their goggles and waited for the red light to turn green.
The green light then turned on.
"GO, GO, GO!" the pilot yelled.
MacTavish walked towards the ramp, and ordered John and Roach, "Follow me as best as you can!" He then jumped out of the plane and started to free-fall.
Roach ran up to the edge of the ramp and looked at John. "See you at the bottom, Savior!" He too jumped out and joined the free-fall.
John then ran to the edge and he jumped out, yelling, "YAAHOOOOOOO!"
Free-falling was an exciting feeling to John. The adrenaline, the euphoria…it made him feel alive. He checked the helmet and saw it was still recording. John wondered if he can get a copy of the footage. I would love to see this again on the big screen at home…John thought. After seven seconds of free-falling, he saw both MacTavish and Roach have deloyed parachutes. He has to wait for eight more seconds before he could open his own chute.
After a total of fifteen seconds of free-falling, John finally pulled the cord. The parachute opened and he started to float down. John felt some pain in his shoulders as his descent was slowed down abruptly. He took hold of the steering cables and tried his best to follow MacTavish and Roach.
After gliding for 30 minutes, frost began to form on the sides of John's goggles and inside his nose. Damn…it is cold up here…John thought…it's just as cold as Louis's room when he keeps the AC on. He wasn't exaggerating: Louis's room was practically a meat freezer back when he was a kid. It was so cold, ice formed inside the AC unit and his room. I swear…I think saw a thin layer of snow on his furniture…He looked down and saw a forest right underneath him. He then looked forward and saw that they were near the mountain. Just a few more miles to go…John thought.
Another 20 minutes have passed when they were 50 feet above their landing site, which was 300 feet up the Northeastern side. They all pulled a dummy cord, which made their gear fall first so the weight won't contribute to the impact. The gear was in a single pack and was attached with a cord with their owner. MacTavish landed first and John landed beside him. John's landing was a bit sloppy; he didn't anticipate the snow giving way when he landed. He sank two feet into the snow and fell forward. He landed face-first into the snow.
"Damn…" John muffled from the snow. He quickly got out of the snow and went to his gear. He pulled up the quick release switches so he won't get dragged by the wind, packed up the chute, and slung his gear over his shoulder. However, he noticed something was different. He looked around, and saw Roach wasn't here. "Roach? Where are ya?" John said through his radio.
He heard some rustling through the radio, and then Roach's voice came through the radio. "Um…a little help, please? I'm stuck in a friggin' tree!"
John looked around to find a tree with a chute covering it. He soon found it, about 50 feet west of his location. He and MacTavish went to the tree and saw Roach struggling to get free. Roach tried to untangle the cables of the parachute, but to no avail.
"Roach!" MacTavish cried out, "Use the quick release!"
Roach reached for the quick release switches on the shoulder straps. He managed to pull the switch on the left strap, causing the risers on the left side of the parachute to be released. He tugged at the switch on the right strap, but it was jammed. Roach was already frustrated; he kept pulling and pulling. In his fury, he didn't realize that he was suspended twenty feet in the air.
With one final, mighty tug, the quick release snapped up. The remaining risers detach from the bag and Roach began to fall. He screamed as he saw the ground getting closer and closer. When he land on the snow, he sunk one foot into the snow, leaving an impression of his body.
"Ow…" Short, plain, and simple. That was all that Roach managed to say.
When John saw the impression in the snow, he began to feel a chuckle forming. He then finally laughed; it was hilarious when Roach left a one foot crater in the snow. MacTavish gave a small chuckle, too.
Roach quickly got up and scowled. "It's not funny!" Roach snarled, "I could've been killed!"
"Ground team, this is your advisor from HQ." It came from the radio. "We saw that you made a safe landing from our radar—" Roach had to laugh. "—you're on your own until extraction."
MacTavish press down the PTT button and replied, "Roger that. Requesting permission to maintain radio silence between HQ till I say otherwise."
"Affirmative," the advisor, "Good hunting, team, out."
"Out, HQ." MacTavish then faced John and Roach and pointed up towards the mountain side. "Come on, we're burning nighttime."
"Yes, sir," both Roach and John replied. John helped Roach get his gear. Now that all three were ready and armed to the teeth, they started their climb up the mountain. It wasn't a slow pace, but it wasn't an exhausting pace. However, the night, winter temperature and the biting winds hinder their pace.
Roach's goggles were covered with frost and his face was stung by the ice crystals carried by the high winds. His cheeks were red. The other two men, John and MacTavish, fared no difference.
After four hours of traveling, they've reached the base of the cliff where the airstrip overlooks. It was still late at night, 11:48.
MacTavish turned around and ordered Roach and John, "We'll camp here for the night. In the morning, we have to leave our parachutes and our bags; just take your weapons and climbing gear."
"Yes, sir," both John and Roach replied.
Using their chutes, packed snow, and some fallen tree branches, they've made an improvised tent. John also started a camp fire at the entrance of the tent, which Roach used to melt snow and fill their canteens. John also stopped the helmet from recording, as this was unimportant. Inside the tent, all three ate their dried-fruit and drank in silence.
MacTavish eyed his fellow troops. This could be a big mistake…MacTavish though. This could be the last time that either John or Roach would be alive, and he barely knows them.
So…he decided to break the ice (no pun intended).
"So Savior, have any other family?" MacTavish asked.
John looked up from his meal and swallowed the chewed dried fruit. "Well…besides Louis, I have a younger brother named James and an oldest sister named Katrina," John replied.
"Are they in the military?"
"Yeah, both of them are. James is a Private in the Army Rangers and Kat is a Lieutenant in the Army Nurse Corp. James is a rather shy kid; he rarely talks to anyone that isn't his friend or in his squad. But his tenacity in battle is unbound. He is also a very strict soldier, but he is kind outside of the uniform. He can be a gentleman one day, next day he can be a Sergeant Major Plumley." John gave out a small chuckle when he made his jest. "Katrina…well…she's one hell of an officer. Smart, strategic, resourceful, courageous…hell, she reminds of Harold Moore back when he was in Vietnam. She has a boyfriend…an architect named…I believe it was Joseph Griffin."
"So you're entire family is in the Military?" MacTavish continued to ask.
John nodded. "My parents were in the Army, but they're retired now."
MacTavish then faced Roach and asked, "So Roach, got any family?"
Roach hands fumbled together, nervously. "Um…well, yes sir. I have a wife named Jessica and a seven year old daughter named Camille." He paused for a brief moment. "I joined the Marines so I could protect my family. So when I joined the 141, I thought that I could do that job better…well…due to the circumstances we have with Russia."
Both MacTavish and John nodded from what Roach has said. They both wanted to protect the people they care or loved, and this kind of Task Force is the best way to do it.
Roach then looked at John and asked, "So Savior, got a girl waiting for you at home?"
John scratched the back of his head, somewhat embarrassed and gave a wry smile. "Uh…well…not really; throughout my childhood, my family has been moving every three years—something that you'll expect in a military lifestyle. I was a shy kid, and I can never get a conversation between a girl and me. I…" John paused. He drew in a deep breath as he was going to reveal something personal.
"I…actually never had a girlfriend…ever."
MacTavish and Roach stared at him, mouths agape and shocked. "You never had a girlfriend?" both of them asked.
"Well…I tried several times. However, I kinda find it depressing to have a relationship that you end and make another relationship with another girl somewhere else, which too must end eventually," John replied, "I eventually just gave up."
Then a thought came to Roach's mind. "Wait, does that mean you never kissed a woman before?" Roach asked.
John's face reddened from the embarrassment. "Sh-shut up!" John stammered.
"Leave the poor lad alone, Roach," MacTavish advised, "So what if he never kissed a woman before?"
John wanted to change the subject, and fast. "So Captain," John said out loud. MacTavish raised an eyebrow, waiting for what John wanted to say. "Can you tell us about Captain Price?"
MacTavish was then lost in thought, coming up with memories of his former Captain. Sometimes he would give a small chuckle from time to time. "Well…Price was a bad-ass; redefined the word 'unique'. He can be a pain in the ass from time to time, but he's a loveable pain in the ass." MacTavish gave out a small chuckle through his small smile. "He's one of those people that always leave a mark in others. I always find it impossible to find something that makes him dull."
As their Captain went silent and drank from his canteen, John was compelled to ask a question that popped into his mind. "Sir, did the Russians tell you what happened to Price?" The question has caused a drastic changed in the Captain's manners and posture. Their Captain shifted restlessly and narrowed his eyes as he stared at the ground.
"I…I tried asking them a few days after I was shipped back home," MacTavish replied, "However, by the time I asked, the Ultranationalist party overthrew the Loyalists and gain control over Russia."
Both Roach and John found the answer…odd, but reasonable. It was just as same as not knowing what has happened.
For some reason, both Roach and John thought the results of the Second Russian Civil War to be…ironic. They fought alongside with the Loyalists, they tracked down their most wanted Terrorist leader, and they killed him. However, in the end, Zakaev became the hero, and the U.S. and the Loyalists lost the war.
The two's train-of-thought was disturbed when Captain MacTavish changed the subject. "It's getting late; we better get some shut-eye, soon. Tomorrow, we need all the energy we can use, so we better sleep now," MacTavish stated. He picked up his dry-ration wrappers and tossed them into the fire. The fire engulfed the trash with ease.
Within minutes, the men lay quiet in their makeshift tent and curled up, with their gear besides them. When morning comes, the day's events are going to be in the past, but it will be the dawn of a new chapter, a new day. And the new day would be marked down as the turning point in John's life, as he would face a new genre of adventure. A genre that he's willing to accept…
And maybe willing to die because of it…