Blame it on the Roach

"Put the gun down!" shrieked Allen, currently Dunn had the Colt trained on his head and didn't show a sign of putting it down.

"I said put the gun down!" repeated Allen, drawing his M9 service pistol.

"I heard you first time." said Dunn, in contrast to Allen's fearful look was almost peaceful. "But I wouldn't."

And with that he pulled the trigger.

What followed was a hollow click, followed by uncontrolled laughter.

"Ha! Had you going with that one!" laughed Dunn, "You really think I'd cap myself?"

Allen was still attempting to comprehend the situation.

"Close your mouth, you're gonna catch flies." said the Corporal, giving the Private First Class a pat on the shoulder, "Ok, so maybe it wasn't the best joke but still."

This was followed by Allen's fist colliding with the side of his face.

"Allen, what the hell?" asked Dunn, clutching his face.

"You scared the shit out of me, man!" shouted Allen, his fists still in the ready position.

"Look, I'm sorry. How 'bout we go to Nate's like we used to." pleaded Dunn, then with a grin he added, "Drinks on me?"

"Ok, you got me." said Allen, helping Dunn to his feet, "But next time, I won't be so forgiving.

"I'll remember that."

Twenty minutes later the duo found themselves at Nate's Sports bar and Grille. Dunn was treating himself to a beer while Allen picked at the plate of cold bacon cheese fries that they had ordered two hours prior.

"Look man, since your family already thinks I'm the dad, I'll pay for child support and all that shit." shouted Dunn, in order for Allen to hear him over the obnoxiously loud music that played at the bar.

"You sure you ain't drunk?" retorted Allen, "Besides my parents need to know the truth. About everything."

"It'll be easier this way, but the part about your other sister," said Dunn, taking a bite of the bacon covered fry, "they probably outta know."

The five TF-141 soldiers found themselves trapped in a cell in a Moscow prison. Meat and Royce had been able to escape capture.

"Bullocks." muttered Ghost, for once he was in a situation that he couldn't shoot, stab, or grenade, his way out of. That and the guards had confiscated his mask, since then he'd been sitting in the corner looking away from the other trooper's.

"Why's he sitting in the corner?" asked Ozone, jabbing Scarecrow in the ribs.

"He doesn't want anyone to see his face." came the reply.

"Is their a reason?"

"Dunno. Why don't you ask him." said Scarecrow, turning to face Ozone, "I'll give you five bucks."

Jutting in, Roach said "I heard he wears it because underneath it he's fuck ugly."

Either Roach had said it too loud or Ghost had outstandingly acute hearing because he growled, "Roach, what did you say?"

"N-nothing, Sir!"

"That's what I thought."

Ozone and Scarecrow only snickered.

Nikolai was enjoying his time away, it was nice to finally have the time to curl up with a good book by the fire without the threat of enemy snipers. But his concentration was broken by the ringing of his cell phone.

Grumbling, he put the book down and picked up the phone, not recognizing the number he closed the phone as suddenly as he had opened it.

MacTavish's fist collided with the wall, "Dammit!" he shouted.

"I assume you didn't get an answer." quipped Ghost, his hood over his head so no one could see his face.

MacTavish just glared at him, silently he passed a slip of paper to Ghost as his second in command got his one call.

For the second time in five minutes, Nikolai's phone rang. Tossing the book aside he snapped up the phone, "Who the hell is this? What do you want?" he shouted into the receiver.

"Uh, this is Ghost. I-" began the man on the other end of the line.

"Is this some kind of joke? Because if it is I'm going to hang up on you."

"NO! I-I'm calling on behalf of MacTavish."

"Soap?"

"What? No, Mac-Tavish!" shouted Ghost, emphasizing the syllables.

"Yes, Soap."

"Whatever! We need you to come to Moscow! And bring enough bail money for two of us!"

The three lower ranking members of the Taskforce coughed in unison.

With a sigh, Ghost said "Make that enough for five.."

"Da, I will be their in forty-eight hours."

"Alright, thanks mate." And with that Ghost returned the phone to it's usual place.

Foley found himself on his front porch enjoying a nice warm cup of coffee while reading the Sunday paper. But what he saw caused him to spit the scalding hot coffee all over his lap. The day's headline read, US soldier breaks Geneva Convention! Below the headline was an image of young man wearing a hat adorned with the American flag, about to toggle the switch that would send electricity through the body of the Russian who was strapped to a chair. The Russian Federation claimed that the American had been torturing the Russian for several hours before SWAT team's arrived on scene. The possibility of war was being tossed around.

"Just my luck." muttered Foley, trying to clean the spilled coffee off his pants.

"I don't remember wearing that hat," said Roach, still trapped in the jail cell looking over MacTavish's shoulder at the image in the newspaper.