Man, this chapter is LONG. And it was HARD TO WRITE. All those crazy explosions and crap! I'm TIRED from just WRITING it. How tired do you think Mckinley is from EXPERIENCING IT?
Scented Of Roses: Yes... a lemon... expect a lemon. I'm kind of worried, because it'll be my very first lemon EVER, but I've done some reading here on FanFiction and I think I know what to do... Oh, you're question about Soap/MacTavish... well, I assumed Ghost knew his nickname, so that's why he used it a bit. And Mckinley knows it because she's played MW2 and knows that his nickname is Soap. So hopefully that clears THAT up for you. :D
OMG If this doesn't make you die laughing, I don't know what does. I found this posted beneath a random MW2 video:
Shepherd: Do you have the DSM?
Ghost: We've got it, sir!
Shepherd: Good, that's one less loose end.
Roach: Oh yeah, I forgot! My shoe's untied! *bends down to tie shoe and dodges bullet and Ghost realizes Shepherd's bad and kills him*
MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA That is for all you Roach Fangirls! ^_^ That definitely should've been how it ended!
Question of the Chapter: If you could say one thing to each member of Task Force 141 (Shepherd, MacTavish, Ghost, Price, etc.), what would you say? Answer in your review!
Thanks for reading and reviewing! I'll be checking all my awesome reviews ON MY NEW IPHONE 4 ^_^ so make sure you review!
Axella (ecto1B)
Chapter 14:
"The Gulag" PART 3
Day 5 – 8:23:06
Pvt. Mckinley 'Queen' Front
Task Force 141
40 miles east of Petropavlovsk, Russia
What does fear smell like? Mckinley wondered, pulling the riot shield closer to her body. The storm of gunfire nipping at the bulletproof glass hadn't managed to penetrate her defenses just yet, but by the looks of the battered shield, her time was just about up.
Oh, I know. Fear smells like sparks of bullets ricocheting against the metal bars surrounding me. Fear smells like the assortment of guns and magazines sitting on the shelves behind me, collecting dust. Fear smells like MacTavish's major B.O. carrying from the other end of the armory. She paused her thoughts and snatched a glance over at her C.O. Ooo, well maybe it's just his B.O. I smell, then. not fear. Never mind.
Suddenly, one of the enemy's Red Dot Sights scraped across her eye. Mckinley cried out in pain as the thick beam of light temporarily blinded her. She resisted the urge to drop the riot shield as an involuntary action, and instead slammed her right hand over her face.
"Dammit!" she screeched. "That fricken' hurt, you a-hole!"
"Are you injured?" Jayhawk yelled from her left.
"I'm all right," Mckinley answered unconvincingly, massaging her eye and then blinking rapidly to get her normal eyesight back. Her vision remained disfigured, however, with everything in her right eye having a tinted red hue. Grumbling about her misfortune, Mckinley returned her right arm to her side and huddled even closer to the riot shield.
"OPEN THE DOOR!" MacTavish demanded into the radio.
"Almost there!" Ghost replied. "Routing through the auxiliary circuit…"
The overhead light flashed blue, and the door slid fully across to admit them passage. Mckinley breathed a sigh of relief and turned her iPod off, deciding to just continue the mission without the assist of blasting music.
"Thanks, Ghost," she said quietly.
"No problem. Now get your arses outta there before more hostiles close in on you!"
The four of them remained in crouching positions behind their shields, slowly making their way through the door and out into level 2 of the dungeon. A small squad of Russians waited for them, but the members of the 141 were unharmed behind the bulletproof glass. Mckinley ambled up to one of the hostiles and bashed his head with the riot shield. He tumbled to the ground and was still.
"Use your riot shield to draw their fire!" MacTavish commanded, pointing down the curved hallway at another wave of tangos.
"Roger that!" Happy to stay safe behind a barrier while the others fired upon the enemy, Mckinley treaded over to another man and bashed him as well. She really didn't know how one simple blow done by a flat protective shield could take down an enemy so fast, but it seemed to be working. She knew she wasn't supposed to argue with the laws of the video game.
Her right eye was beginning to repair itself, as the redness her eye saw was steadily decreasing. Still, the pain from that laserbeam continued to bite at her optic nerve.
"Queen! You all right?"
Either Mckinley was bad at hiding her pain, or MacTavish was just really observant.
"I'll live!" she called back, pounding another Russian to the ground. "Don't get all worked up about me. Let's just focus on finding the prisoner!"
Minutes later, the group had finished walking the entire 2nd floor and had had no luck at finding the prisoner—or any other prisoners, to be exact. Mckinley wanted to tell them that Price was in the lowest level of the gulag: extreme isolation, but she knew Ghost would figure it out for himself soon and alert MacTavish. Her heart suddenly began to ache when she peered over the ledge and up at the control room. How long had Ghost been up there and her down here? It seemed like hours had flown by. And this was one of the very last levels she'd have with him—
"Ghost here."
Her breathing hitched midway in her throat. Ghost's timing was spot-on.
"Recommend you bypass the lower floors by rappelling out that window."
She glanced around. "What windo—Oh, that window…"
MacTavish patted her on the back as he passed her. "Congratulations, Queen. You found it." He took hold of the rope hanging out the window and began his descent. "Copy that, Ghost. Queen, follow me!"
Once the rest of the team had landed on the bottom floor, Mckinley dropped the riot shield and picked up an AUG HBAR Red Dot Sight from one of the dead Russians. She hooked it onto her belt and then rappelled down to where MacTavish and the others waited.
"Captain MacTavish," a random 141 soldier said from the radio. "Last floor clear. We'll link up with you at the bottom."
Mckinley brushed away some dirt on her legs and then took the M4A1 Carbine off her belt. The new gun she'd just acquired would have to wait for a while.
"The camera feed in solitary confinement is dead," Ghost reported numbly. "The power must be down in that section."
"Ooo, fun," she murmured sarcastically, receiving a chuckle from Worm.
"Roger that! Squad, switch to night vision." Apparently the captain hadn't heard Mckinley mocking Ghost. Or he just ignored it.
Rolling her eyes, Mckinley slid the night goggles from her forehead over her eyes when they entered the pitch darkness of the bottom floor. With the goggles, everything became hazy and green. So in her right eye, everything became slightly mixed.
"Ugh, I hate these ugly bug glasses, making everything turn green," she muttered to herself. "And I still fricken' hate that Russian who pointed his red laser in my freaking eye." She blinked. "Everything's fricken' decked in Christmas colors."
She heard Ghost laugh through the radio's speaker. "Queen, you do realize your radio is on, and that it's right next to your mouth?"
"Oh, be quiet, English teabag," Mckinley shot back playfully, secretly cherishing the fact that she'd made Ghost laugh. His laugh was hot. "Just keep doing your computer genius stuff up there in the control room and leave the dramatics to me."
When they turned a corner, an ambush of hostiles awaited them. They'd bunked inside empty cells and now popped out from behind the cell walls to fire at the soldiers. They, too, wore night vision goggles.
"I got this!" announced Mckinley, loading a new grenade into the launcher of her gun. "Just give me covering fire until I get this in…"
Two… then three hostiles were down, thanks to Worm, Jayhawk and MacTavish. But at least a dozen more continued sending bullets whizzing past their heads in the dark. Would the risk of getting shot in the head ever cease?
Finally, after struggling with the grenade because her eyesight was so poor, Mckinley finished loading it in the launcher and sent it flying at the cluster of Russians. With a bang and a puff of smoke, their numbers depleted instantly.
"Check the cells for stragglers," MacTavish instructed, beginning to glance inside each cell as he walked down the dark hallway.
Worm checked the first one. "This one's empty," he announced.
Jayhawk peered into the second one. "This one's empty, too."
"Clear," Mckinley said, briskly poking her head into the next one.
Suddenly, as Jayhawk stepped over to the next open cell, a burst of gunfire exploded inside and Jayhawk fell to the ground instantly. Mckinley rushed to his side, and Worm and MacTavish quickly finished off the lone hostile before he could cause any more damage.
Mckinley dropped to her knees next to her fallen comrade in a panic and pressed her fingers to his neck, feeling for a pulse. MacTavish and Worm stood over her, watching intently. They were all hoping… wishing… that just maybe…
Sighing, she stood up from Jayhawk's bleeding, unmoving body. There was no sign of life. She shook her head and murmured a quick prayer for him under her breath. Now there were three. Only three people left who could find Captain Price. Would they lose any more?
And then the three of them were on the floor. Small chunks of the roof cascaded onto the ground in front of them, and the sounds of loud detonations could be heard from above. Mckinley dropped to the ground and covered her head, becoming disoriented as the ground shook and rocked.
"Shepherd! What the hell was that?" MacTavish raced to Mckinley's side and helped her stand back up, supporting her until she regained her balance. Worm went to her other side and also tried to make sure she didn't fall, with the aftershocks still surging through the gulag. "Get the Navy to cease fire!"
Worm helped her into a lighted portion of the tunnel network, catching her as she stumbled when another vibration raged the building. Mckinley felt like the Scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz: fumbling and dazed after he'd gotten off that post in the field and tried walking around with Dorothy. She yanked the goggles away from her face and let the regular lighting pour into her eyes. The traces of red had vanished altogether from her eyesight, so the barren walls of the new hallway were easily distinguishable.
Thank goodness that stupid redness is GONE.
"The Navy isn't in a talking mood right now," Shepherd said monotonously, not knowing that Mckinley had begun punching her fist into her hand threateningly when he spoke. "Standby."
"Standby my a—"
"Queen, calm down for a second," MacTavish commanded her sternly. "Let's keep moving. Shepherd will check back with us shortly."
The three soldiers continued into the next passageway, where huge black and red pipes lined the walls and electrical boxes were hanging like decorations and wall ornaments all around them. A few messages and warnings dotted the walls, all written in Russian.
"Bravo Six—they've agreed to stop firing for now. Keep going, I'll keep you posted. Out."
There were three hostiles hiding behind a wall of pipes down at the other end of the hallway. Mckinley tossed a flashbang over the pipes, letting it land at their feet. Dashing forwards and taking charge of this situation, she ducked underneath some low pipes. She quickly shot down the three tangos behind the pipes before they recovered from the flashbang's effects.
"Nice work," Worm commented kindly.
Finally, after finding a few more Russians taking cover in a boxy area near the pipes, the area was clear. A thick metal door blocked the way into another room, and Mckinley faintly recalled not having to go through that door… but how, again?
Ghost interrupted her thoughts with his husky British voice. "The old shower room's about thirty feet ahead on your left. You'll have to breach the wall to get in."
She stared at the blank wall, and tilted her head to the right slightly in contemplation. What was behind this wall, again? The old shower room? I don't remember…
Oh yeah. That awfully long room full to the brim of hostiles with Red Dot Sights and their very own riot shields, just to anger me. Man, does karma suck or what?
"Queen—plant the breaching charge on the wall, we're taking a shortcut."
Mckinley rolled her eyes again.
"Some shortcut."
#########################
"I just jumped through a hole in the ground," Mckinley said to herself, peering up at the huge uneven space she'd come out of. She'd just escaped a bombardment inside the (rather disgusting) shower room, being the first to fall into the tunnels through the hole. "And now I'm even deeper inside this psychotic nightmare." She turned to her radio on her shoulder. "Ghost, you still with us?"
"I'm right here, Queen," he replied calmly. "Where's 'Tavish?"
A shadow leapt through the hole in the ceiling and landed next to her. Another followed.
"He just dropped in." MacTavish smirked at her comedic answer. "Ghost, how are you getting out of here? I know we've got the chopper, but—"
"After I help you find the prisoner, me and the boys are heading out the way we came. It's faster."
"Will you make it out before the bombardment?" she wanted to know.
He laughed. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. Just keep going." He paused. "What's your current position?"
"We're in the old tunnel system heading south-southwest," MacTavish answered for her. The three of them slid down a slanted concrete section of the tunnels and crawled out of the sewer water and onto a small ledge.
"Okay. Keep going along that tunnel."
Another door waited for them, and so did another blank wall. Mckinley suspected that using a door was too boring for Task Force 141, so she pulled out another one of those breaching boxes and got ready. Apparently explosions were much cooler ways to enter a room. She'd have to borrow that technique when arriving at a friend's party in the future.
"I'm detecting two heat signatures—one of them should be Prisoner 627," said Ghost, the volume of his voice growing louder.
"Thanks Ghost." Mckinley spun the white box on her fingertips like a basketball. "Now get that English arse of yours out of the gulag before they start the bombardment, or I'll have to come find you."
Ghost chuckled, Mckinley swooned, MacTavish snickered and Worm just looked lost and puzzled as heck.
"Roger that. You get out safely, too, Queen." His tone grew soft. "We don't wanna lose you."
"See you soon, mate," MacTavish said, interrupting them from getting sappy.
"You too, 'Tavish. Over and out."
Mckinley shoved the breaching device onto the wall and shut her eyes.
Everything happened rather quickly, much quicker than Mckinley had remembered it when she'd played the level before. She'd previously thought that this part had taken an extensive amount of time to happen, but maybe that had just been her imagination. Or it had just taken her a while to comprehend what had occurred, even after it was over.
Whichever the case, Mckinley did not expect the events to transpire so rapidly. One second she was squinting to see a bearded, unruly-looking man using his own handcuffs to choke a Russian soldier. The next second the Russian soldier was being shoved at her, knocking her to the ground and causing her to lose consciousness for a brief second when her head hit the concrete.
When her eyes focused in on the man standing above her, shoving the barrel-end of his gun in her face, Mckinley bit her tongue to stop the flood of words begging to pour from her mouth. Captain Price! Don't hurt me! I'm MacTavish's friend! I know you were on his team once! I'm not an enemy! Her heart screamed for Ghost's protection, though she knew Price wouldn't shoot her. He was breathing hard; his wind tunnel sounded rasp and weak. He had bright blue eyes and a scarred, worn face. Most of it was hidden behind a graying brown beard. On his head he wore a navy blue knit cap that reminded her of that southern guy from Call of Duty 3. His body was shaking madly, and the slow wisps of air coming from behind his teeth proved he was rather nervous.
In the blink of an eye, MacTavish came into view and held a small pistol to the back of Price's head.
"DROP IT!" he demanded firmly.
Price, still holding the gun in Mckinley's face, glanced back at the young 141 soldier, looking baffled.
Mckinley smiled. Ta-da!
"Soap?" Price gasped. He stepped back and let the gun fall to his side. The two men met each other's eyes in shock.
"Price?" MacTavish said quietly, evidently astonished. A few seconds went by as the men stared in shock at each other. They couldn't believe that the other was alive. Price had supposedly died years ago… but now he was here, in the gulag. Mckinley realized how much of a surprise this was for her captain, and she continued smiling.
MacTavish spun the small pistol he was holding in his fingers and handed it to Price. "This belongs to you, sir."
Worm appeared in her view, as well. Mckinley huffed. None of them were noticing that she was still on the ground. It would take an explosion for them to realize where she was. Literally.
"Who's Soap?" Worm inquired.
Just as she'd predicted, a huge cloud of fire burst from the roof above them. The three who were standing all ducked out of instinct. Mckinley was limited to shielding her face with her arm because she was on the floor.
"C'mon, we gotta get outta here!" MacTavish grabbed Price's arm and motioned for the exit. They began running. Mckinley started getting up, but Worm was nice enough to notice her finally on the floor. He grabbed her hand and stood her up, then let her run in front of him.
"GO GO GO!" MacTavish yelled.
Rubble gushed from the ceilings like a waterfall. The four people remained in a loose-fitting cluster as they made their way towards the LZ, dodging falling debris and catching themselves before they succumbed to the quaking floors of the gulag. At this rate, Mckinley wondered if she'd ever get to see Ghost again. Adrenaline pulsed through every vein in her body and urged her to run faster. This fast-paced rush reminded her of when she had to run to the chopper in the favela.
"Bravo Six, be advised. They've started the bombardment early! Get the hell outta there now!"
Mckinley clenched her fists together and let the adrenaline seep deeper into her body. She'd need it. She knew the LZ would become blocked as they approached it… and she knew that they'd hit a dead end and have to resort to using flares. The group would have to run as fast as possible if they wanted to make it out of there alive.
Just as she was thinking about the roof collapsing in front of them, it happened. Everyone stopped running and turned around. Their escape helicopter had disappeared behind a wall of rocks.
"Go back! Go back! We'll find another way out!"
Mckinley attached her M4A1 Carbine onto her belt as she ran back through the hallways, turning a different corner this time and dashing up a small flight of stairs. The stairs led to a large room with a huge hole in the roof, thanks to a massive UXO bomb that had been dropped inside the room. It was sitting in a pile of debris, with a large streak of sunlight illuminating the area around it. Mckinley glanced upward through the opening and saw daylight. Our way out! The Navy must've dropped this bomb…
"It's a dead end!" Worm cried, spinning around madly as he searched for an exit. But every doorway was blocked off by pieces of the ceiling. Their only chance was this hole in the roof.
"Six-Four, where the hell are you, over?" MacTavish barked into the radio.
"Bravo-Six, there's too much smoke!" said the chopper pilot. "I can't see you! I can't see you!"
"What the hell are we gonna do?" Mckinley screamed, frantically checking around the room for an exit Worm might've missed in his panic… she vaguely remembered something happening about now… they weren't supposed to die here. They were supposed to escape!
"Queen? What's going on?" It was Ghost, speaking through the radio again. Concern streaked against his British accent. "Are you okay? MacTavish! What's happening? Queen?"
"Gho—"
Suddenly, a huge surge of rocks tumbled downward from the roof, hitting Mckinley square in her head, neck, and back. Blood flooded her eyes, and she collapsed onto the ground. Her lungs pounded weak struggles of air to and from her body, but she was losing consciousness fast. The red blood was making it hard to see—
"Queen is down!" MacTavish hollered. "QUEEN!"
The blood in her eyes turned black, and her eyelids shut.
#######################
Rumbles echoed in the distance. They seemed to be coming from miles away, like thunder rolling in the sky following a bolt of lightning. Progressively, the sounds grew louder and closer, finally roaring in her ears. Mckinley flashed her eyes open to get a sense as to what was happening, but it was no use. Even with her eyes open, everything was black. Black, dark, and empty. What was going on? She tried to remember what had just happened… why was she locked in this pitch-black abyss?
Am I dead?
Abruptly, the blackness was pulled away from her face by a pair of crinkly hands. It was Captain Price, removing a huge flat piece of stone from obscuring her view. He tossed it aside and glanced back at a figure that was standing on the UXO bomb.
"Whatever you're gonna do, Soap, do it fast!" Price shouted, remaining at her side as Mckinley lay there, recouping from her blackout. She moaned and ran a hand through her hair, which had fallen out of the high ponytail. It was sooty and grey; the luscious red color was hiding behind a wall of ash. Damn, I need a shower.
MacTavish lifted his gun to the sky, aiming the barrel upwards through the hole. He fired a single shot—which turned out to be a crimson-colored signal flare. The flare hurled through the hole in the roof and set sparks flying in all directions to alert the chopper of their position.
"Bravo Six, I see your flare. SPIE rig on the way."
Thank God.
Immediately, a long zip line fell down the hole and landed at MacTavish's feet. The line was thick, black, and anxious to help the four soldiers out of the gulag and into safety's open arms.
Hopefully "safety's" name is Ghost. Mckinley remarked in her head.
"Let's go! Let's go!" Price grabbed her left hand and yanked her from the ground. Stumbling and feeling the blood pound in her ears, Mckinley followed Price, MacTavish and Worm over to the SPIE rig.
"Hook up!" MacTavish ordered. "Go! Go!"
Mckinley bent over and hooked herself to the zip line. She glanced around the room as more explosions rocketed nearby, feeling the extensive heat singe her cheeks.
Seconds passed. All of the soldiers stared up through the hole after they attached to the SPIE rig, waiting to be lifted into the sky. Mckinley patted Worm's shoulder and nodded at him, trying to build confidence in her comrade. He forced a smile back and continued to stare anxiously above him.
Eventually, MacTavish was hoisted into the air, followed by Price, then Mckinley, and then Worm. Mckinley screeched as she dangled helplessly around the long shaft towards the sky, pinching her eyelids closed when a burst of flames scorched her body. The pain was excruciating and agonizing, ripping through every centimeter of skin on her body and charring the legs of her wetsuit. She felt her blood desperately trying to remain at a steady temperature, but she'd surely come out of this with a few spots of second-degree burns.
And as the four soldiers flew out of the roof of the gulag—with a huge explosion following them and sending a fiery cloud stinging their feet—Price cried one word that contained every emotion he'd bottled up for five years:
"FREEDOM!"