Wow, aren't I like the coolest person ever? I wrote this chapter in two days... Probably about 1/5th of it yesterday and the rest took about 4 hours on the computer today. So much editing... so much adding... so much re-reading... oww, my brain hurts, and I have school tomorrow!

If you can't tell, The Gulag level is so fricken' long, I had to split it into 3 parts. Here's the second, and maybe expect the third sometime next weekend.

Okay, so I'm gonna start asking questions at the top of my chapters that I'd like to get responses to in the reviews :D

Question of the Chapter (I couldn't really say "of the day" now could I?) What are your favorite Ghost quotes/catchphrases?

Oh, and some advice to my fellow readers out there: When you're writing, I HIGHLY suggest listening to classical music. HIGHLY SUGGEST. I listened to the Sherlock Holmes soundtrack when writing this, and MAN it helped a ton.

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN THE MUSIC MENTIONED IN THIS CHAPTER. I DID NOT WRITE THE LYRICS, CREATE THE TITLE, SING THE SONG, PLAY THE GUITAR, ANYTHING. I just love the song!

Thanks, and please review!

ecto1B

This chapter is dedicated to Scented Of Roses, because it was her birthday! ~~YAY!~~ *Ghost and MacTavish hand you balloons and shoot confetti on your head*

Chapter 12:

"The Gulag" PART 2

Day 5 – 7:56:17

Pvt. Mckinley 'Queen' Front

Task Force 141

40 miles east of Petropavlovsk, Russia

Darkness crept into her eyes like a slithering serpent: taking its time to swallow her courage whole. She blinked her eyes and patted down the goosebumps on her arms before anyone noticed. Mckinley was not about to let another phobia of hers—much more insignificant than her hydrophobia—get in the way of completing this mission. She usually wasn't claustrophobic, but in such a dark, damp tunnel, things like claustrophobia seemed to pop out of nowhere and nibble away at any lingering common sense.

"This is it!" Confidence gleamed in MacTavish's voice. She wished she felt the same. "We go in, grab Prisoner 627, and get out! Check your corners! Let's go!"

The team made their way down the first set of stairs, then turned a corner in the dark hallway to find a substantial amount of Russians waiting for them. Mckinley took the time to load her grenade launcher. It would definitely come in handy when multiple hostiles crowded a single area, like now.

She fired a single grenade, and as it skimmed the concrete floor, it went up in a massive explosion. The five hostiles standing around it flew backwards to clear the way. One of the 141 soldiers, Worm, made a quick thumbs up in her direction.

"Again!" he said. "I'll cover you!"

With fast fingers, Mckinley reloaded the launcher. The dark-skinned man executed a meticulous sweep with his gun as covering fire. And once she'd finished, he backed up so she could proceed.

"That's the control room up ahead!" Ghost pointed over Mckinley's shoulder at the room the Russians were protecting. It was full to the brim of old monitors and technical equipment. "I can use it to find the prisoner!"

"Sounds like a plan!" Mckinley responded, firing the next grenade. Four more men went down. Then, hoping not to harm any of the machines Ghost was intent on utilizing, she switched back to her M4A1 Carbine and took out the last two hostiles to fully clear the room. Ghost dashed past her and to a desk leaning against the wall. He grabbed a metal chair and sat down at a small laptop, where he began crunching numbers at breakneck speed. "I'll tap into their system and look for the prisoner! It's gonna take some time!"

MacTavish tapped his radio headset. "Copy that! Queen, we're on cell duty! Follow me!" He started down a set of metal stairs towards the cell blocks.

"B-but…" she looked over longingly at Ghost, whose back was to her as he grinded away at the computer. "'Tavish, why don't I stay here and—"

MacTavish shook his head firmly. "No, Queen, I need you down in the cell blocks. Ghost will be fine up here with Jester and Bearcat. Right now, we're needed on the lower floors." He peered at her with a meaningful gaze. "There's no time to argue with me, Queen. We have to move."

She sighed. "Fine."

The group—minus Ghost, Jester and Bearcat—advanced down the metal staircase and to the first level of cells lining a round rotunda. There were metal gates everywhere to prevent breakouts… but as Mckinley glanced inside a few cells, there wasn't any inmates to occupy them. Then a detachment of foot-mobiles appeared out of nowhere and began to lay down heavy gunfire upon the 141 soldiers. Once again, Mckinley launched a grenade at the enemy's feet, and most were terminated. They went on, checking each cell as they passed for any signs of Prisoner 627.

"All right, I'm patched in," Ghost said through the radio. "I'm tracking your progress on the security cameras."

"Copy that!" MacTavish responded. "Do you have the location of Prisoner 627?"

"Negative, but I've got a searchlight tracking hostiles on your floor. That should make your job easier."

MacTavish switched to his second gun and began pounding the living daylights out of the nearest Russian. "Roger that! Stay sharp! The prisoner may be in one of these cells!"

A huge beam of light illuminated the area in front of them and revealed three Russians standing out in the open. Mckinley had to dive behind a lone crate on the floor to avoid the explosion of one of their frag grenades. Then, she vaulted back to her feet and battered the thrower with a rush of ammo. He yelped in pain and fell backwards onto the hard stone floor.

"That searchlight helps a ton, Ghost." She wiped her brow. "Thanks."

Ghost began to answer, but MacTavish cut him off. It seemed like the team had just encountered a very complicated problem. A pair of thick metal security doors obstructed their way down the hall, preventing them from checking the rest of the cells on that floor and also making them officially stuck.

"Ghost, we've hit a security door! Get it open!"

"Please," Queen added for him. Then, under her breath, she muttered, "Rude, much, Soap?"

Ghost apparently didn't hear her tart remark. "Workin' on it… this hardware is ancient!"

Mckinley remembered how long she'd swooned the first time she'd played this level. The way Ghost said that line—specifically the word "ancient"—was like the equivalent of when Arnold Schwarzenegger murmured "I'll be back" or when Gerard Butler heroically declared that "THIS IS SPARTA!" It was a line that had stuck in her head as one of the sexiest ways to sound completely exasperated, i.e., to sound completely like Ghost.

Immediately after Ghost hollered her favorite line, an ear-piercing beep sounded through the cell blocks. The security door farthest from them slid open wide… and the one closest to them remained still.

"Aww, hell!" Mckinley exclaimed, ducking to avoid enemy fire. "Wrong door!"

"Ghost, you opened the wrong door!" MacTavish echoed.

Ghost grumbled inwardly, though he was easy to hear over the radio. "Roger, standby…"

"Let's pick up the pace, Ghostie!" she said, taking out a hostile that was aiming at MacTavish's head. "We're getting hammered!"

"Got it!" Ghost declared suddenly, and the team watched as the door opened for them. The only things that could make the moment more magical would be a lone spotlight shining on the door and bursts of "Hallelujah" erupting from a church choir nearby.

That would be thoroughly entertaining.

"That's better!" MacTavish obviously hoped Ghost would interpret that as a "thank you," though Mckinley knew the captain could benefit on a few lessons about good manners. What, was he absent on that day of kindergarten? "Let's go!" They dashed past the two doorways and into the next portion of the cell blocks.

"I'm hit!" one of the 141 soldiers cried behind her, collapsing onto the ground. Another bullet ricocheted into his chest, and he fell silent instantly. Mckinley ran to check his pulse. When she kneeled next to him, she noticed the blood oozing from a hole in his chest. Desperately, she felt for a pulse on his neck. Nothing. She patted the man's forehead in defeat and stood once more. Now it was her, MacTavish, Jayhawk and Worm. How were they going to do this a man short? It would be impossible now… right?

A thought hit her like a high-speed train. In the past, Mckinley had always been heavily inspired by music. Whenever she was completing a project, or carrying out a task—such as cleaning her room—blasting music made the job easier and more fun. What if she played music for the squad? Would it help them get this mission over faster? Would it restore all that fading optimism she was beginning to lack?

Mckinley hurriedly crouched behind another crate and withdrew her iPod Touch from its pocket in her supply vest. Then, she found a random connector cord in another pocket and plugged her iPod's speakers into the radio.

"Heads up, guys," she alerted them all, including Ghost and the two 141 soldiers with him in the control room. "I'm about to improvise a bit, here."

"How so?" MacTavish asked in a loud voice.

She scrolled down the song list and tapped on "Back In Black" by AC/DC—ultimately one of the greatest rock 'n' roll songs in existence. She thought the lyrics and the thundering guitars would pump extra adrenaline into her teammate's veins. And, it also related to them, since they all were wearing those uncomfortable black wetsuits from the oilrig mission.

As the intro erupted from everyone's radios, MacTavish, Worm and Jayhawk flinched from the abrupt sound. But soon, Jayhawk and Worm were bobbing their heads to the beat and getting themselves into a steady groove. MacTavish was obviously trying to ignore the blaring music in his ear, but eventually he, too, was mouthing the lyrics. And soon, the four of them were all taking out the foot-mobiles with no delay to the pounding guitars and screaming vocals.

Back in black,

I hit the sack,

It's been too long. I'm glad to be back.

Yes, I'm let loose,

From the noose

That's kept me hanging around.

I'm just looking at the sky

'Cause it's gettin' me high.

Forget the hearse, 'cause I'll never die!

I got nine lives

Cat's eyes

Abusin' every one of them and running wild!

'Cause I'm back!

Yes, I'm back!

Well… I'm back now,

Yes, I'm back!

Well I'm back… back.

Well, I'm back in black!

YES, I'M BACK IN BLACK!

"Uh… did we somehow end up on a public radio frequency?" Ghost asked over the music; he was barely audible as the music grew louder. Mckinley laughed and followed her lip-syncing teammates through the rest of the corridor. Now, with the music playing, the Russians acted a bit disoriented and were easier to eliminate than ever before. Had they ever been exposed to the pure awesomeness that was AC/DC? Apparently not.

After the group checked a few more cells, MacTavish glanced behind him and motioned for Mckinley to turn the music down a notch. She did so, bringing it to a level that was still powerful, but quiet enough for MacTavish to communicate with Ghost.

"No, it's just Queen who's playing the music," he informed his Lieutenant as he peered into another cell. "Talk to me, Ghost—these cells are deserted!"

"Got it! Prisoner 627's been transferred to the east wing!" Gee, Ghost. Couldn't you have told us that a little bit earlier? "Head through the armory in the center—that's the fastest way there." Another security door in their path opened to reveal another metal staircase leading down into a small room. Positioned in the very center of the huge circular room, it was a very bad place to defend oneself in. But if this was the quickest way to Prisoner 627… so be it.

"See anything you like?" MacTavish asked her playfully, exchanging one of his guns for one with a full clip. Mckinley wanted to trade her sniper for the classic AK-47—the weapon she knew she was destined to shoot Shepherd with. (He'd killed Roach and Ghost with a small hand pistol… so she'd just get a bigger gun. Take that, you SOB.) But the riot shield propped in the corner looked ever so tempting. Letting her eyes linger on the AK-47 for a few seconds, Mckinley dropped the sniper rifle and picked up the riot shield, hooking it on her back. The music still blared from the radios… but now was the time for a different song. Hastily, Mckinley scrolled back through her music and tried to find a good ambush song—which was about to happen to them any second now.

"Hey 'Tavish, any music suggestions?" she asked her captain. He scrunched up his face in deep thought.

"Aerosmith?" he offered, rolling his new gun in his hands.

She nodded. "Perfect."

Aerosmith's hit, "Walk This Way," burst through the radio speakers with a flashy drum intro. Worm pumped his fist and began using his gun as a makeshift guitar when one of the most famous guitar riffs of all time came on. Jayhawk made the "rock on" symbol with his hand and tossed it up and down when the chorus came.

Then, the volume somehow lowered itself without Mckinley touching it. Ghost's panic-stricken voice replaced it.

He's so smart, he's found a way to change the volume on my iPod without even being near it. Wow.

"Bad news, mate," Ghost began. Oh gosh, what is it this time? "I'm tracking three…"—he paused, but only for a second—"no, four hostile squads converging on your position!"

Russian yells bounced off the walls around them. Putting a hand to her chest, Mckinley gulped. There was a lot of yelling. Four hostile squads were coming… a true firefight was on the horizon. Carefully, Mckinley reached over her shoulder and grasped the handle of the riot shield. She pulled it over her head and then clipped her M4A1 Carbine to her belt. During an ambush, a riot shield would definitely come in handy and be more effective than a gun.

"I can hear them coming…" Mckinley whispered.

"Let's go. We're too exposed," MacTavish murmured in reply. The group hurried to the back of the armory where another security door remained locked. The big red light above the door began burning into the back of Mckinley's skull, so she glanced away. Around them, hostiles were mobilizing…

The term "exposed", my good man, is an understatement. We should just paint big red and white targets on our backs. That's what we are. Easy targets.

BEEP!

The door began opening. Jayhawk, Worm and MacTavish crowded around it, anxious to leave. But Mckinley, who was the only one holding a riot shield,—and definitely the only one in her group who'd ever played this level before (I mean, seriously. If you somehow thought that MacTavish was a Modern Warfare 2 player, you're really not up to par, are you? What's his gamertag? SoapMan94?)—knew that the door wouldn't be opening quite just yet. MacTavish would be getting another kindergarten lesson today: patience.

Just as she imagined, the door stopped opening midway and began sparking wildly. The red light changed to blue, but still the door wouldn't budge. She sighed and found a safe position along the armory walls to crouch. Eventually, the three men would be joining her. She brought the music volume back up a bit to block out the Russian shouting and tried to relax.

"Bloody hell!" Ghost roared. Mckinley swooned again. Sexy Ghost Quote #2 pinpointed. "They've locked it from the hard-line. I'll have to run a bypass!"

"Too late! They're already here!" MacTavish leapt out of the way of a spot of gunfire that almost skimmed his shoulder. Hostiles surrounded them on all sides of the armory. They had Red Dot Sights as well, and Mckinley watched in horror as multiple red lasers scoured over her riot shield. Her eyes grew wide when four more lasers joined the dozen, tearing into the protective shield with relentless gunfire.

This is just a video game. This is just a video game. They can't hurt me. This is just a video game.

"Be advised—you've got more tangos headed your way!" Ghost warned them.

"Thanks for the info, Ghost!" Mckinley said hotly. She curled herself into the fetal position behind the riot shield when MacTavish suggested to Worm and Jayhawk to use one. It would give them "more cover" as he put it.

Hostiles swarmed from every side. Laser pointers filled the air, and "Walk This Way" being played even louder was the only way to quiet the enemies' obnoxious battle cries. Mckinley was scared. She felt like the people in that Green Day "21 Guns" music video, dodging random gunfire that burst out of nowhere. Now she could watch that video and relate to it.

This definitely wasn't her first battle in the virtual world, and Mckinley prayed to God that it wasn't her last, either.