Here is "The Hornet's Nest," where they must escape the favela while being attacked by Brazilian militia.
Enjoy! Please review!
ecto1B
Chapter 5:
"The Hornet's Nest"
Day 4 – 16:19:43
Pvt. Mckinley 'Queen' Front
Task Force 141
Rio de Janeiro, 1700ft A.S.L.
"Sir, the militia's closing in. Almost two hundred of 'em—front and back!" The anxiety within Ghost's voice had found a temporary home, dug deep underneath his throaty, intensely secure voice.
MacTavish replied with matched energy, but his words were droned out behind the screams and cheers of the Brazilian militia nearby. He and Ghost lead the way through a small row of houses, and Rocket, Chemo and Mckinley followed right behind them with their guns loaded and ready. They were heading in the opposite direction as she'd come from earlier, towards the marketplace. That's where MacTavish's colleague, Nikolai, would rendezvous with the group in his Pave Low.
Ghost and MacTavish continued conversing as they jogged up a small, plant-ridden hill behind a building and towards the marketplace. The only thing Mckinley heard was Ghost saying "Works for me," which sounded positive when coming from his mouth.
"Nikolai!" MacTavish yelled into his radio when the approached a clearing of buildings, teeming with Brazilian militia. "We're at the top of the favela surrounded by militia! Bring the chopper to the market, do you copy? Over!"
Nikolai, like she'd suspected, had a thick Russian accent. "Okay my friend, I am on the way!"
"Engaging hostiles!" Mckinley cried out heroically, blasting away a few men on the road with her newly acquired UMP .45 with an ACOG scope. "Ghost—you see 'em?"
"Affirmative!" Ghost replied. "Tangos at ground level, dead ahead!" He dashed right by her and took cover behind a deteriorated brick wall. "Take cover!"
Rocket hung near MacTavish, while Chemo and Mckinley strayed closer to Ghost. While their captain made a break for a closer position, the others lingered near a more stabilized, invulnerable location. Gunfire came shooting down upon their locality with no hesitance.
"We've gotta get to the helicopter," MacTavish said briskly, ducking behind another automobile laying in the street. "Head through the gate to the market! Move! Everyone get ready! Lock and load!"
As if on cue, her clip ran out, and she had to hide behind a trash can and reload. While she did so, Ghost stepped next to the can and gave her a rush of covering fire. She finished loading the new clip, smiled briefly at her comrade, and continued the assault.
"Contact! Foot-mobiles on the rooftops, closing in fast from the south!" Ghost was right to notice the figures galloping on top of the houses, desperately searching for better cover. Mckinley aimed down the sights and took a few out. One militia member hit a barrel by her legs, sending it ricocheting at her. She dove to the ground and let the barrel roll past. Dust stung her eyes.
Soon, the squad made their way closer to the gate. The enemy forces lining the streets and rooftops had been pushed back just enough for the group to find better cover more south.
MacTavish pointed to the road to the south. "Head through that gate! Keep pushing to the evac point!"
"Go! Go! Go!" Ghost charged down the road, clearing the route for the squad. Mckinley ran at his heels, returning the favor by giving him necessary cover fire.
The roads were a maze. Besides the fiery barricades blockading most of the intersections, they were swarming with Brazilian militia. For every member she took out, another one came out of nowhere and hammered the space nearby her head. In one instant, Mckinley had to dodge incoming fire from a thin black-haired man behind a wall, and as she dodged, she slammed her left arm into a tiny lean-to. Pain overwhelmed her entire body, and she fell to her knees, out in the open and exposed. Her right hand dropped the gun and clutched her other arm. Was the blood spurting out again from her fresh wound?
"Queen!"
"She's hit!"
"I'm not HIT, moron!" she screamed at MacTavish. "Oww…"
"She hit her arm on the shack," Ghost explained, sprinting to her side and becoming a human shield. "C'mon, Queen, you gotta get up. We have to hurry to the evac site, and we're not leaving you here." He grabbed her gun from the ground and put it in her hand. "We're almost there."
Again, she found his pale blue irises behind the dark shades of his sunglasses. They were looking straight at her, flooded with enthusiasm. At that moment, she wanted to rip off his mask and see the rest of his face, wanting to see eagerness on his lips as well. But that would become problematic. So instead, Mckinley nodded, exhaled slowly, and stood up.
"Keep moving! We're almost at the market!"
She'd heard that about ten times already, each time from a different person. It rotated from MacTavish's mouth, to Ghost's, to Rocket's, and even once to Chemo's. And finally, the statement was true. Beyond a tiny intersection lay the favela marketplace. Chickens in cages squawked and crowed wildly, frightened of the gunfire. A huge pile of flour bags lined one edge of the market entrance. And miscellaneous objects, such as a soccer ball and an old fashioned radio, lined a few of the tables.
"Squad! Spread out and cut through the market! Move!"
Can you believe that a little while ago I was sitting in the game room, snacking on a bag of grapes and getting ready to kick some terrorist butt on Modern Warfare 2, and now I'm standing in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, being shot at by Brazilian militia and helping Ghost, MacTavish and two other guys escape?
Once the marketplace was clear, the four of them made their way towards the landing zone where Nikolai would be landing to pick them up. Mckinley had been out of breath for a while now, but still kept up the hurried pace that the other men handled. Ghost ran in front, and she raced behind him and next to MacTavish. Chemo and Rocket trailed behind.
A loud, whirring sound came from overhead, and then a shadow traced the skyline.
"There's Nikolai's Pave Low!" MacTavish announced. "Let's go!" They dashed inside a small shack, running to reach the chopper before the militia caught up with them. "Nikolai! ETA 20 seconds! Be ready for immediate dustoff!"
The Russian accent blared through. "That may not be fast enough! I see more militia closing in on the market!"
"Shoot!" Mckinley exclaimed angrily. "We'll never make it!"
"Pick up the pace! Let's go!" Her captain outflanked her and raced at the front of the pack.
"We won't make it, Captain!" she countered.
A small grassy area drew a dark shadow, but rabid gunfire was preventing the aircraft from landing. If it tried, it might be shot down.
"It's too hot!" Nikolai hollered. "We will not survive this landing!"
Instead of trying to board the Pave Low, MacTavish seemed to figure out a new strategy for tackling this violent situation. The group of five stopped running for half a second as the captain gave Nikolai a new order. Mckinley took the time to roll her shoulders and neck, loosening her arm muscles.
"Nikolai, wave off, wave off! We'll meet you at the secondary LZ instead! Go!"
"Very well, I will meet you there. Good luck!" The chopper lifted off higher into the sky and hovered over to a new location, out of the range of the enemy. MacTavish ordered everyone to follow him, as the squad shoved their way up the roof of another building.
"Come on! We've got to get to the rooftops! This way!"
Mckinley stumbled after them, smelling smoke and ash close by. "What if—what if we don't make it?"
"Never mind that, look!" The chopper was hovering at the end of a long strip of rooftops, waiting for them. "Let's go, let's go!"
Nikolai found the time to make a comedic comment. "My friend, from up here, it looks like the whole village is trying to kill you!" Mckinley tried smiling, but her cheeks hurt from grimacing too much. She raced at the back of the squad, leaping over breaks in the rooftops and falling behind drastically. A few clotheslines got in her way, but she shoved past them and tried to keep up.
"Tell me something I don't know! Just get ready to pick us up!" Even when racing for his life, MacTavish was slightly amusing.
Ghost became the first one aware of an important fact. "We're running out of rooftop!" he cried desperately. And they sure were. A huge gaping hole separating two buildings lay in their path. Luckily, a smaller roof across the way led to where the Pave Low was docked. All the squad had to do was jump…
"We can make it!" MacTavish determined. "Go! Go! Go!"
Without a second thought, Mckinley jumped…
Ghost, Rocket, Chemo and MacTavish landed firmly on the opposite roof. But she hadn't leapt far enough. Her fingers grabbed the ledge in a panic; her screams of terror echoed throughout the entire favela. MacTavish lunged for her hand—terror blanketing his entire face—but her hands slipped, and Mckinley tumbled into the road below. She slammed against the pavement, and everything went black…
Mckinley…
Queen…
"QUEEN! QUEEN! WAKE UP!" MacTavish screamed from her radio. She rubbed her head and moaned, trying to get her eyes to focus. She'd survived the awful landing, but where was she now? Something pounded in her ears.
"QUEEN! WE CAN SEE THEM FROM THE CHOPPER! THEY'RE COMING FOR YOU, DOZENS OF 'EM!" Ghost's throaty voice was bubbling over with alarm and worry. And she knew why. From where she was laying, she could see shadows of the militia appeared on the walls of the buildings around her. They held guns and chanted wild Portuguese.
"Queen! There's too many of them! Get the hell out of there and find a way to the rooftops! Move!"
A shock of lightening surged through her body. She sprung to her feet and scampered inside a nearby building, searching for stairs.
"Run for it! Get to the rooftops!"
Bullets exploded everywhere. She dashed through a house and watched pictures shatter and fall off the walls, things fly at her from out of nowhere. Electrical boxes smashed into pieces over her head. She didn't stop running, however. She was NOT going to die in a video game.
"Queen, we're circling the area but I can't see you! You've got to get to the rooftops!"
Stairs.
Stairs.
Where the hell are the stairs?
Four flights of them appeared out of nowhere as she rounded a corner. Finally! A way to the rooftops!
She came out of a top-story room and vaulted onto the roofs. The Pave Low was in her sights… now, could she get there in time?
"Queen, I see you! Jump down to the rooftops and meet us south of your position! Go!"
Man, MacTavish says "go" a lot.
Her legs were beginning to tire out again, but she kept going. Nikolai informed her that the chopper's gas was low and that he had to leave in thirty seconds.
"I'm COMING!" she screamed, passing water towers and satellite dishes on her way to the chopper. "DON'T leave without me!" Tears dripped down her face, engulfed in pure fear. They might leave me here…
There was a slanted roof in her path. She slid down it and exploded into the window, shattering it. Then, she saw at the end of the pavement… the chopper. It was there… a ladder hung out of the window for her, but she'd have to jump.
"I'm gonna miss!" she cried in fear, sprinting now.
"JUMP FOR IT!" MacTavish and Ghost exclaimed in unison.
She did…
Her feet left the ground. Her hands outstretched… aiming for the ladder. It began to look like she'd miss. And then…
"Nikolai, we got her! Get us outta here!"
"Where to, my friend?"
"Just get us to the sub…"
Mckinley quickly succumbed to a heat wave of relief. Ignoring the gorgeous landscape that she was dangling dangerously above, she shook away the huge sweat drops dripping from the tip of her nose and let it fall downward to the horrific sight below. With the small amount of energy her body could muster, she crawled her way up the ladder and collapsed on the floor of the chopper once MacTavish and Rocket had hauled her up. Instantly, she began to cough, and she watched in horror as blood spurted from between her teeth. Oh God, not in front of my squad… But Chemo rushed to her side with a box of medical supplies, ready to assist her. She choked back more blood from her throat and shut her eyes.
"Is your friend okay?" Nikolai called from the front of the Pave Low, already bringing the chopper out over the ocean.
MacTavish made a side glance to meet Chemo's brown-eyed gaze. Once the medic had dipped his head in certainty, the captain answered.
"She'll be fine. Just hurry to the sub, Nikolai." He smirked. "We're not allowed to be late." With that, he stood and returned to the cockpit of the Pave Low to speak with his friend. Chemo resumed tending to Mckinley, and Rocket and Ghost took a seat on the benches lining the walls of the chopper. Rocket was still attempting to catch his breath, while Ghost remained perfectly still and silent.
"I can't… believe… we made it… outta there…" Rocket managed shakily, continuing to breathe in a steady pace.
"All in one piece, too," Chemo remarked. He gave Mckinley an injection of painkiller and helped her sit on the bench. "Just stay here until we get to the sub, okay?"
She clamped her gloved hand on top of where he'd injected the medicine, extinguishing the nasty sting with applied pressure. Then, wincing, she nodded.
"Fine," she grumbled, pulling herself into the fetal position and burying her head in her arms. "I don't wanna move anywhere, anyway."
Rocket turned his attention to her. "I swear to God, Queen. I thought you were a goner when you fell off the roof."
"Scared the hell outta us…" Ghost mumbled softly.
"I thought I was dead, too." Mckinley ran her tongue across her teeth nervously. Though the danger was gone and brawny, armed men surrounded her once more, shivers persisted to run down her spine and her hands still shook madly. "I thought it was over."
"But it's not." MacTavish strolled back into the area where they were sitting; his arms were crossed and his face was stern. "It isn't the end for you, Queen." He shook his head. "No… it's only the beginning…"
"The beginning… of the end," Chemo murmured shakily.
"Hooah." The captain sat down next to Mckinley and met her eyes. "If you think that was hard, wait until what you hear what our next mission is."
Mckinley sighed, knowing exactly what mission came next in Modern Warfare 2, and also knowing how much the next level scared the crap outta her.
"Submarines?" she asked reluctantly.
MacTavish nodded. "Submarines."