Questionable Methods

Shepherd sighed, so it had come to this. Makarov was prepared to tell the whole world of their secret working relationship. He should have known the man couldn't be trusted, but he needed someone driven by greed, someone willing to lash out at the world. He had to admit he'd found the right man, but now his motives were more shady then before. Shepherd had been mulling over this the entire trip, Makarov couldn't expect to get any monetary benefit from disclosing the work he and Shepherd had done. But recovering the data off of Makarov's computer would prevent him from being able to tie Shepherd to his dealings. Shepherd was currently the most powerful man on the planet, so without exceptionally solid proof, Makarov would have no chance of revealing what he had done.

Makarov smirked to himself, it had been too easy drawing Shepherd in. He was like a moth to flame, he would gravitate towards it, no matter the danger. Attempting to steal his data was a last minute attempt to protect his carefully crafted reputation. But no matter how well something was built it could always be destroyed, Shepherd was no exception. When he would look over the data on his DSM, he would find no data. Makarov had made sure to remove his own computer and leave a blank in it's place. And if all went as planned, Shepherd would be nothing more then a stain on his lawn.

"Sir, I've spotted them on Thermal." said the co-pilot of the Pavelow. "There they are. You getting this, Frank?"

"Roger that. Maybe the Russians will kill 'em for us?" asked 'Frank', pilot of the other Pavelow.

"Not likely, they're in the 141. This is a milk run for 'em." replied the pilot. "We ain't taking no chances, Team-3 prepare to deploy. Protect Gold Eagle at all costs."

"Roger that. Team-3 disembarking." barked Team-3's squad leader. "Move it ladies! We ain't got all day! Five meter spread, fire maneuver Oscar Delta!"

"Hoohah!" came the chorus of Soldiers spreading out in an arc in front of Shepherd.

Ghost was tired. It had been a tough week but the end was in sight. He just had to reach the bottom of this hill in one piece and it'd all be over. He could go home to his nice warm bed, grab a beer, and sit with his woman on the back porch of the barracks. A large explosion caused him to stumble, he turned back to see that Roach was lying on the ground, clutching his side. Ghost crawled over to him and started dragging his limp body towards the field, the first Pavelow already landing. As the Pavelow opened to reveal Shepherd, Ghost drug Roach to his feet.

Shepherd knew what he had to do but it almost pained him to do it. The masked man looked as happy to see Shepherd as possible while wearing a ski mask adorned with a Skull. The young sergeant was clutching his side, which had a piece of razor sharp shrapnel protruding from it.

"Do you have the DSM?" asked Shepherd, already reaching to grab his revolver.

"Yes, sir! It's right here!" returned Ghost, supporting most of Roach's weight. The boy was too trusting, it was sad he'd never get to learn the error of his ways until it was too late. "Good. That's one less loose end." The magnum exited it's holster and the bullet collided with the sergeant's chest, the felling of shooting him reminded him of when he had to kill his dog after it got rabies. It was a mercy kill, he turned his magnum to Ghost and fired while the lieutenant was more worried about his friend who had a hole the size of his fist in his chest, then his own safety. Shepherd snatched the DSM out of Roach's hands and could barely hear the sergeant whisper "Why?" If Shepherd was a lesser man it would have made him feel a tad sympathetic but Shepherd felt nothing as he ordered two of his men to dispose of the bodies.

"Shepherd betrayed us." whispered Soap, looking out over a mass of dead 141 members, among them Worm, Meat, Royce, Scarecrow, Ozone, and now, Roach and Ghost. How many more were dying in other corners of the globe?

"You have to trust someone to be betrayed, Soap. I never did." said Price, surveying an equally large pile of Shadow Company soldiers. The 141 had fought valiantly, but their were too many. "We need to leave or we'll be next."

"How can you act like nothing has happened? Surely, you of all people would understand what it's like to lose everyone you ever knew!" shouted Soap, losing control over his emotions, something he always tried to keep in check.

"I know. But you if we don't live, their sacrifice will be in vain. Shepherd's story will become written and ours will be lost forever. Don't make these men die for nothing."

"But they've already died for no reason! No reason at all!" shouted Soap, his head in his hands.

"I know, Soap. I know." whispered Price, putting a hand on Soap's shoulder.

"Commence the attack, now." whispered Makarov, watching as Shepherd lit two of his lapdogs on fire. And they called me crazy, thought Makarov.

"Affirmative. Detonating the explosives, now." said another voice, a massive fireball blocking out the rest of his words.

"Makarov grinned as his troops charged from the tree line. The Americans turned to fire on their attackers only to be taken out by well hidden bouncing betty land mines.

"Protect Gold Eagle at all costs! Lay down a base of fire on the tree line!" shouted one of the American squad leaders, as he took a step to his right to urge one of his men forward a disc-like device leapt from the ground. "Shit! Bouncing B-" The explosion cutting him off and shaving the top two-thirds of his body off.

"We're in a fucking minefield!" yelled one of the soldiers, firing his SCAR-H in a valiant attempt to make his life of value to Shepherd.

"Gold Eagle is hit! I repeat, Gold Eagle is hit!" shouted one of the sergeants, throwing himself on the General to cover him with his own body.

Ghost slowly let the M9 fall from his hand. He'd done what he could to end the lunatics reign of terror. Hopefully, shock and blood loss would do the rest. He crawled over to Roach and began trying to administer first aid for his wounds. To his right lay a cigar butt, he shivered at the thought of what Shepherd planned to do, if it hadn't been for Makarov's men they would have been burned alive.

"Ghost, did you..did you kill him?" asked Roach, his voice weak, blood staining his sweatshirt.

"I can't be sure. I..I shot him, that's for sure." replied Ghost, applying a compression to Roach's chest wound.

"Are you gonna be okay?" asked Roach, pointing out the large blood stain on Ghost's shoulder.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. It's just a shoulder, I've been through worse." muttered Ghost, injecting Roach with morphine. "Besides, you can't kill what's already dead."

Roach just smiled and slipped into unconsciousness.

Shepherd looked out the window of the Pavelow and winced. Not because the medic was jabbing him with syringes full of god-knows what but because he had failed to think that Makarov might have an ambush prepared for him.

"We just gonna leave them behind?" asked one of the pilots, watching the group of Shadow Company soldiers diminish in numbers one by one.

"Yeah, they knew what they were getting into when they signed up." returned the other pilot.

"I guess, but I mean we didn't even try to evac them.." said the first pilot.

"You keep questioning commands and you'll find yourself dead by morning. Shepherd's got our back, he won't let us down." said the second pilot.

The pilot had a point, Shepherd would not tolerate disrespect. A good soldier would know better then to question orders. Those men had done their duty and died like true heroes, maybe once this war was over he'd erect a monument in their honor.

Makarov whistled as he took in the glory of his victory. His men had managed to kill Thirty Two of Shepherd's men at the cost of only four of their own. That was considered a victory in his book, the men lost in the battle at the estate were some of his lesser trained troops, they could be replaced.

"Sir, we have located two survivors." said Anatoly, jogging up to Makarov. His AK-47 hanging from a strap around his neck.

"Kill them at once and dispose of the bodies." said Makarov, turning back to his proud army which were in the process of looting the Shadow Company corpses.

"But sir, they are not with the Americans. They are from the other group." piped Anatoly, he was one of the few who Makarov would not kill for questioning orders.

"Let me talk to them." said Makarov, heading over to where one of his soldiers guarded two prisoners.

Ghost stared straight into the face of Vladimir Makarov. If it wasn't for his Ski Mask he would have spit in the bastard's face. He watched as the terrorist moved over to the still body of Roach, "Stay the hell away from him!" growled Ghost.

"I merely which to see to it that your friend is sent to a doctor of appropriate skill. We would not want your friend to die, now do we?" asked Makarov, a sick smile on his face.

"Why don't you just kill us now, Makarov? Save the effort?" asked Ghost, watching as a medic began tearing Roach's bandages away and replacing them with new.

"Because, I cannot use you as a bargaining chip if you are dead." said Makarov, a sinister smile on his face.

Of course it had to be a cliffhanger, just like every other Modern Warfare ending! So the TF-141 campaign has come to a close! Please Read and Review!