Hey my beloved readers! Yes, I know I posted the last chapter... eh... was it Sunday? Well, don't expect quick chapters anymore. School's started and man, I already had four tests this week. (all A's, thankfully!) The homework load is also substantial, so I haven't had much after-school writing time. But I HAVE been working on later parts of this story during school... y'know, piecing it all together and stuff. It's coming together nicely!

Here's "The Gulag" Part 1. I think I'll have a Ghost note in the middle of Part 1/Part 2... so expect another chapter maybe this weekend. MAYBE. Like always, I can't guarantee anything. Schedules change.

The song that Mckinley and MacTavish listen to is called "Bang Bang" by K'naan feat. Adam Levine. I DO NOT OWN THIS SONG, THE LYRICS, THE MELODY, OR ANYTHING PERTAINING TO THE SONG. GOT IT?

Sorry, but I had a problem with someone saying I'd not given credit to a song in a story I'd posted a while ago, and he threatened to report me. GRR... so that story's long gone...

Please enjoy this chapter! REVIEW PLEASE!

I want at least 5 reviews, please! Then I'll work EXTRA hard on the next chapter! I promise!

Oh, and YES. I am planning on a sequel ^_^

ecto1B

Chapter 10:

"The Gulag" PART 1

Day 5 – 7:42:54

Pvt. Mckinley 'Queen' Front

Task Force 141

40 miles east of Petropavlovsk, Russia

"Phase two"… darn you to heck. I'm fricken' freezing my butt off because of you. Why couldn't the mission end back at the oilrig? I could use a bit of sleep…

Mckinley massaged her temples and uttered an aggravated sigh. Their chopper was flying through a heavy settlement of fog that was oddly making her sleepy. The once gorgeous morning had vanished behind the blanket of white, and for the past two hours she'd been sitting next to MacTavish, practically doing nothing. Thankfully, she'd already discovered her iPod Touch a while ago, so she managed to pass the time listening to that. MacTavish glanced over at every song she played and continued to ask why she was listening to such old music.

"Lady Gaga?" he chuckled. "You still listen to her?"

Mckinley pulled the iPod to her chest, offended. "What's wrong with me listening to 'Alejandro' every now and then? It's so catchy!"

He shrugged. "I dunno. It's just that she hasn't had any chart-toppers since that song came out in 2009. No one I know listens to her anymore."

She scoffed. "Yeah, well maybe everyone you know are men in the army who'd prefer a good Coheed and Cambria song over Lady Gaga." Mckinley smiled, content with her fiery comeback.

Her captain nodded his head and grinned. "Yeah, you're probably right."

With another sigh, Mckinley turned back to her iPod. She pressed the side button to lower the volume slightly, then scrolled back to her list of artists. Biting her lower lip in deep consideration, she lightly flicked against the small screen and found what she was looking for: K'naan featuring Adam Levine. Her pointer finger pressed on the song title, "Bang Bang," and a catchy reggae-like intro blasted through her earbuds. Quickly, she traced the point where the music was and moved it to the chorus of the song. MacTavish jerked a bit at the noisy music, but then receded back to his normal position after realizing what the abrupt sound was.

She was walkin' around with a loaded shotgun,

Ready to fire me a hot one.

It went bang, bang, bang, bang,

Straight through my heart. (Straight through my heart!)

Although I could have walked away,

I stood my ground and let her spray!

She shot me, she shot me,

Bang, bang! She shot me!

She shot me, she shot me,

Bang, bang! She shot me!

"What song is that?" MacTavish asked, yanking her right headphone from her ear and popping into his to listen in. "It's pretty good."

Mckinley, not wanting to miss the next verse by answering, simply pointed at the song title at the top of the screen. He thanked her and began bobbing his head to the music as well.

Testing, testing!

Things just got more interesting!

She's dressed in a vest pin, double-breasted holster,

A very Western toaster,

She ain't nothing Kosher.

Ah, she lets me closer.

Hotter than a pepper-crusted Samosa.

While I try to keep my composure.

Suddenly, MacTavish chucked the earbud from his ear and put his radio headset back on. Apparently someone was communicating with him, and he was missing their message. Mckinley shut her iPod off and wrapped the headphones back up, watching MacTavish and waiting to hear what Command was saying.

A few moments later, MacTavish glanced over at her.

"Thirty seconds," he confirmed seriously. All the playfulness had evaporated abruptly from underneath his voice—substituted by a slab of harsh somberness. Now, his tone proved that it was time to get back into the right state of mind. No more joking around. This mission's success was crucial to taking the upper hand in the war, and his stern tone confirmed that.

The fog was clearing up progressively, but Mckinley still had to squint to make out the three other Little Bird helicopters flying beside them. She tried to spot Ghost on one of the choppers, but it was no use. The fog was still too thick.

Ramirez! she thought, suppressing a laugh. Get rid of the fog with this portable fan!

A voice came through her radio. She listened in for any crucial information. They'd be approaching the gulag soon, and she wanted to be prepared for anything that could happen. As she listened, Mckinley tucked the iPod back into her pocket for later.

"Hornet Two-One, this is Jester One-One, flight of two F-15s, four HARMs for the section. Standby for SEAD, over."

Well—whatever that meant—it doesn't seem to apply to me. I'm pretty sure my name isn't Hornet Two-One…

"Solid copy, Jester," Hornet Two-One replied. "Go get 'em."

A lumbering coal-grey mountain loomed to the right of their chopper, and then a small icy cape materialized from behind the fog. A small cluster of buildings surrounded by snow-covered trees appeared atop the cape, and Mckinley could've sworn something was supposed to happen right about then to the houses… something significant… because weren't they SAM sites?

Her answer was the sight creeping below her. Two sleek F-15 fighter jets with the skull-and-crossbones logo on the fins glided below the pack of four choppers.

"Good tone, good tone. Fox Three, Fox Three."

Huh? Repetitive much?

And then, as the horde of air vehicles neared the cape, the fighter jets soared ahead of them and opened fire, sending rockets with wispy white tails spiral towards the houses. And, with a cloud of grey smoke, the tiny concentration of Russian buildings had been beat down to small stubs.

"Good kill. Good kill. Hornet Two-One, you're clear all the way. Good luck."

Dude, why do you repeat the same thing over and over?

The helicopters sailed over the smoke-ridden cape and across another small stretch of icy water before the huge circular brick building came into view. It was enormous, built like a castle and prepared for even the largest of sieges. Smog poured from the top of it, giving it the appearance of a chimney. It brewed on the horizon and dominated the surrounding area with its presence. Truthfully, the Russians had picked the perfect place to hide Prisoner 627. It had a real dungeon, multiple turrets, thick walls and places to house SAM sites. They weren't expecting an attack anytime soon. But one was coming. And the enemy had no idea.

"That building is huge," Mckinley remarked to MacTavish. He nodded.

"And it's a bloody maze inside," he said back.

"Hornet Two-One copies."

"Hornet Two-Two copies all."

"Hornet Two-Three, solid copy."

Mckinley lowered the volume on her radio. All this random chatter was boring. And the sight of the gulag in the distance only made her heart pump faster, completely ready to get going with the siege. To liberate some of her extra energy, Mckinley waved at the soldiers on the nearest Little Bird and gave them a thumbs up. In response, the three soldiers pumped their fists and whooped joyously. It seemed everyone was anxious to get on the ground and start shooting.

The three other helicopters hovered closer to the ice-covered waters and led the way towards the gulag. One chopper flew in closer, readying its guns for a quick barrage on the command tower.

"Guns guns guns," said Hornet Two-Two. Then, most annoyingly, he repeated the same thing again for emphasis while the chopper opened fire on the tower. Mckinley watched as the glass windows shattered instantly, careening down onto the multiple Russian soldiers lining the gulag's walls. A huge roar of the Russian men erupted in bafflement and rage. Unlatching the sniper rifle from her back, Mckinley loaded in a new clip and readied herself for part one of the mission. She tuned her radio back to the frequency Ghost was on and tightened her grip on the rifle's handle.

In response, MacTavish began speaking into the radio. "All snipers—this is MacTavish. Standby to engage."

The helicopter swerved over a fair distance away from one of the gulag's turrets. A handful of men and a SAM hidden by a blue tarp were positioned there, but Mckinley knew the men would have no time to use the missiles against their siege. The 141 was too swift for them.

"Stabilize!" MacTavish ordered the chopper pilot.

"Roger."

"All snipers—cleared to engage."

As the chopper came to a halt in midair, Mckinley glanced down the sights and matched the criss-cross target onto one of the men. A simple click of the trigger, and he was down. Four more times, and the stone tower was officially unoccupied.

"Clear, Captain," she informed him smoothly, lowering the rifle. If she was really good at anything in Modern Warfare 2, it was sniping. She could literally sit all day in a high location on one of the multiplayer maps and take out the other players one by one. And, for some odd reason, the actually-holding-a-real-live-gun part of this seemed to have no difference. Her sniping was still top-notch.

"Nice shooting, Private." MacTavish dipped his head and itched at his Adam's Apple. "Shift right!" he told the pilot.

"Shifting…"

Once more, the helicopter flew over to the next tower. Mckinley took the chance to reload her gun. Her hands fumbled at the excitement of one more sniping point, but finally she managed to shove the clip into its place.

"Stabilize," said MacTavish.

"Ready."

As easily as before, Mckinley's sniper rifle downed all five of the Russian soldiers dwelling on the rooftop, but not before one removed the tarp from the SAM. They were all down before the unearthed SAM could be utilized.

"Again, perfect accuracy," MacTavish commented proudly. "You ever done in-air sniping before now?"

She toyed with her answer… for she hadn't really done it before… only in the game. Did it make a difference?

"In a way, yes," she replied evasively. MacTavish shrugged at her curious answer and ordered the pilot to shift again.

"Shifting," the pilot said monotonously as one of the fighter jets bombed the taller of the gulag's towers. Rock and debris showered the air, and she shielded her eyes from the flurry of dust swamping the chopper.

"I see four hostiles on the next tower!" declared MacTavish.

But instead of another "stop, shoot, move on," procedure, a F-15 appeared out of nowhere and fired rapidly on the top of the turret. Then, the fighter jet sped directly above their chopper, causing them to waver off course a bit. A loud beeping noise screamed from the cockpit of the Little Bird. Mckinley grabbed the side of the helicopter and held tightly, hoping not to fall off.

"Hang on!" The pilot scrambled to stabilize the craft before it lost too much altitude. Mckinley shoved her hand over her mouth to keep from yelling. Fear drenched her pores. If they didn't recover from their stumble, they might crash into the rocky land below, and that surely wouldn't be good.

When the helicopter began rising upward again towards the top of the gulag, Mckinley felt a wave of relief swallow up the fear inside her, and then a touch of excitement was hinted to the mix. All were part of her recipe to a successful mission. Though it was starting a bit rough, Mckinley had played the level countless times, and knew that Captain Price was waiting for the 141 to rescue him, no matter how long it took.

MacTavish looked and sounded pissed. "Shepherd!" he hollered into the radio at the General (The one Mckinley was anxious to meet… only so she could pummel him to the ground with an AK-47 and a few frag grenades.) "Get those fighters to cease fire immediately! That was way too close!"

She snorted. "You got that right."

"I'll try to buy you some time," replied Shepherd, and Mckinley stifled a ferocious growl. "One man in a gulag doesn't mean much to the Navy at this point."

The helicopter zoomed through the cloud of settling smoke and over the walls of the gulag. They headed for the landing zone in the center to meet up with the other groups. And then they'd take the gulag and find Prisoner 627.

"Bloody Yanks!" Ghost said roughly through the radio. "I thought they were the good guys!"

"Ghost—cut the chatter. Stay frosty." MacTavish handed Mckinley another gun from inside the chopper: a M4A1 Carbine with a highly efficient Red Dot Sight ability and a Grenade Launcher add-on. She scraped away a smudge of dirt from the gun's barrel and hooked the sniper rifle onto her belt.

All four choppers landed inside the gulag to deploy its soldiers. Once it touched the landing pad, Mckinley leapt from her seat and onto solid ground—the only solid ground she'd touched in over two hours.

"Go! Go! Go!" her captain rushed ahead of the huge group of soldiers to lead the way. Mckinley stayed at his heels and obeyed every order that was flung at her. The barrage of enemy fire was relentless and staggering, but Mckinley found shelter behind an unused SAM site and began stepping out every now and then to take a heavy pounding on the second floors of the gulag. Along another edge of the wall sat a barricade of sandbags, with a small band of Russians popping up from behind them. One man had such good aim, a snipe of his skimmed her elbow as she crouched behind the SAM. Mckinley cried out in pain and immediately applied pressure to the injury.

"You okay?" a husky voice snarled up underneath a British accent asked. She whipped around to see the skull balaclava gazing at her.

"Fine," she lied, pressing her lips together into a tight, painful line. "Considering this is the third attack on my arm in 48 hours, I'm doing great."

Ghost didn't answer at first. Instead, he jumped out from the cover of the SAM and fired a brisk round of gunfire at the men behind the sandbags. Then, he stepped back next to her.

"Well, I've got your back against these bloody tangos. Just say my name and I'll be giving you covering fire in seconds. We're gonna get this mission done fast." He retreated back nearby MacTavish. "Hang in there, Queen."

"Thanks, Ghost!"

With a newfound sense of priority, Mckinley began taking out hostiles faster than she ever had in any previous level. All of her shots were precise, calculated, and simple. She tried not wasting any bullets, because the fear of what was down in the dungeon levels of the gulag leaned over her like an eerie shadow. What if she ran out of bullets and couldn't find any extra clips to reload with? Every shot had to count in some way, or she'd label herself useless.

One of their Little Birds began hovering slightly above the team. Mckinley glanced up in confusion, wondering why the chopper had not gone with the others to continue the assault on the outer walls.

"Two-One in position for gun run," the pilot announced over the radio.

Oh. So that's what it's doing here… gotcha…

She spotted MacTavish take cover behind a small concrete barrier. "Copy Two-One, lasing target on the second floor!" He directed his Red Dot Sight on top of the sandbag wall for the chopper to see. The rest of the squad found cover behind other objects, and soon, Mckinley was the only one out in the open.

"Queen!" Ghost called immediately. "Get outta the way! He's gonna start firing near your position!"

"Two-One copies, got a tally on six tangos, inbound hot," came the radio chatter, and the helicopter lowered itself in the sky to get closer to the target. Mckinley noticed that Ghost was right; she was almost underneath the chopper's intended target. Wiping the sweat from her forehead, Mckinley dashed as fast as she could away from the wall just as the chopper opened fire on the hostiles. She dove behind the small barrier MacTavish was behind, breathing heavily, and crouched just low enough so she couldn't be hit. One of the other 141 members, Jayhawk, picked up her gun when she dropped it and reloaded it for her. She breathed out a thank you, and then looked towards MacTavish.

"Are you bloody daft?" he scolded seriously. Mckinley recoiled. "You just could've been killed! Didn't you hear the radio?"

She choked back a response. "I… I did, sir, but I was focusing on taking out the hostiles… I'm sorry—"

MacTavish patted her shoulder, trying to be earnest, but at the same time, understanding. He released a breath to calm his tension. "No need to be sorry, Queen. I just don't want you blasted to pieces by one of our own!"

Sighing, she nodded reluctantly and picked her gun up from the ground. The enemy gunfire was slowly depleting as the 141 shot more and more of them down. Soon, they'd have a clear pathway into the gulag's lower levels.

####################

Minutes later, Mckinley and the others were even closer to the entrance. They'd done a quick maneuver that threw the enemy off-guard, and now the hallway leading to the dungeon was in sight.

"The entrance is up ahead!" MacTavish cried. "Keep moving!"

Feeling the snow crunch beneath her combat boots and hearing the yells and explosions from the outer walls, Mckinley was strangely at peace. She knew that for the next half an hour she'd be crouching inside dark, damp tunnels that would create the feeling of claustrophobia. And to be out in the middle of Russia in the sting of the morning was an oddly serene feeling compared to what they were about to experience.

Hang on… she thought, pausing to take a breather behind a wall. Something had struck odd within her train of thought. This is "The Gulag…" which means I only have this level and then "Contingency" with Ghost and MacTavish until… She gulped and massaged her temples, not realizing that she was slowly sliding down to a seated position. Until "Loose Ends…"

"Queen?"

Oh my freaking goodness… this isn't fair! Only two more levels until—

"Queen!"

Startled from those horrific, Mckinley let her eyes focus on the figure standing above her. It was Ghost again, trying to get her attention. He was waving his gloved hands in front of her face wildly.

"Come back to earth, Queenie!" called MacTavish from the other end of the yard where the underground stairwell began. "We're oscar mike! Prisoner 627 won't save himself!"

Ghost held out a hand to her in a kind gesture. "C'mon, Queen. I don't think you wanna hear any of Soap's famous lectures." He chuckled softly. "I'll help you up."

I didn't even know I was sitting on the ground!

But if it meant holding Ghost's hand, she was all for it. Cautiously, Mckinley took the mysterious soldier's hand and let him pull her up from the ground. His grip was hard and his hand was warm. A tingle of butterflies fluttered up and down her trachea in a gentle pattern, reacting to his hand clutching hers. This sensational feeling was brand new to her. Though she had held plenty of boys' hands in the past, this version of the awkward puppy love she'd felt was totally unique. During other relationships, she'd merely wanted to chat with the boy all night on Facebook about their likes and dislikes. It was never an "I'd take a bullet for you" situation; never an "I can never be complete without you in my life" kind of feeling. No, this was raw desire. Desire that was constantly mutating in secret behind her ribcage into fiery lust. There was only one problem. Did Ghost feel the same? Was this passion she felt for a character inside a video game all for nothing?

"Uh…" Ghost coughed and motioned with his head at their hands, disrupting her from pondering anything more. "Are… you okay?"

When it dawned on her that she hadn't let go of his hand, Mckinley turned a blazing shade of red. She released his hand and brought it back to her M4A1 Carbine. The two of them shuffled their feet awkwardly.

"C'mon, you two," MacTavish hollered again. "We're oscar mike!"

Smiling up at the masked man and making a bold move—winking slightly flirtatiously at him—Mckinley rushed to stand near MacTavish before she saw Ghost act surprised at her random motion. She didn't want him being able to tell that she could finally admit that she was incapable of remaining away from him; in other words, Mckinley was in love.