Hola, mi amigos y amigas. ^_^

A few notices for you guys to read:

1. If you have ideas, pictures, comments, etc. that you'd like to send me, I now OFFICIALLY have my own email address specifically for this story. Email stuff to: 1b gmail .com (get rid of the spaces)

2. AstroRen's UberNova and I have just started our own collab story called "Our General Theory of Total World Domination." It's a MW2 story, featuring MacTavish, Ghost, ROACH XD, Queen, her OC named Baby, and the rest of the 141! Go check it out!

3. THANK YOU to Evangel Gamer for drawing a SPECTACULAR picture of Queen! I love it! Thanks a ton! It's beautiful!

4. I am in love with Maroon 5 and their new album, Hands All Over. So far, "Stutter" reminds me a ton of Queen and Ghost. Go check the album out! I might be putting some of the songs in future chapters!

Question of the Chapter: If they were making a Modern Warfare 2 movie, and YOU were asked to cast the parts, who would play who? What actors would best suit each character? (You can even cast Queen, if you want to make me a happy girl ^_^)

That's a wrap! R&E&R! (Read and Enjoy and Review!)

ecto1B

Chapter 26:

"Freefalling"

Day 6 – 7:27:59

Pfc. Mckinley 'Queen' Front

Task Force 141

Encounter Base, Russia

"Early bird, eh?" Captain Price remarked to Mckinley as she ducked inside the briefing tent. Inside, a large square table covered in maps and equipment was placed at the center, with stools lining the table's edge for the soldiers to sit on. In the back corner, another table—this one significantly smaller—was completely immersed in computer equipment and knotted wires. Ghost was sitting at it, making an effort to untangle the cables. From where she stood, Mckinley could see that his skull mask was rolled up above his mouth. A thin cigarette sat between his lips. Captain Price had found a stool and was leaning on the center table. MacTavish stood next to Price with his palms flat on the table; his sapphire-blue eyes scoured the tabletop acutely. Only when Price acknowledged that someone else had arrived did he glance upward.

"Yeah, I know," Mckinley responded, walking over to stand by MacTavish and setting the jacket she'd borrowed back onto his arms. Her legs had began to hurt a little after she'd woke up, so she'd stopped by the infirmary for another dose of painkillers. That had dragged the five-minute time barrier MacTavish had given her to about seven, but no one seemed to mind. "It's so unlike me, too. I never wake up early." She felt her face grow hot when Ghost looked briefly at her, but he instantly returned his attention to the jumbled cords. She ran a hand through her hair and gulped. Well, this is gonna be one awkward discussion. "So what's this about? New mission?"

MacTavish nodded and pointed to the large map of Russia spread out across the table. Swarms of red marks were strewn about an area a short distance away from Petropavlovsk, Russia. Most of the dots were huddled in the open ocean, while only two or three were situated on the mainland. The largest red dot had a small label that screamed: CONTINGENCY.

"The Russians have a submarine base nearby the gulag, where an ICBM is being housed," said Price.

"Shepherd wants us to disarm the missile and secure the base," added MacTavish.

Mckinley flashed a look in Price's direction, knowing for a fact that Shepherd had never ordered such a thing to take place. In fact, he'd pretty much said the idea was crazy. But Price wanted it. The missile was to become the saving grace for the Rangers fighting in Washington, D.C., an EMP that would wipe out the Russian defenses, but, on the negative side, would also destroy the International Space Station. For a moment there, Mckinley wondered what would happen if she let it slip that Price was really going against Shepherd's command, but she quickly decided against saying anything. If I say something, then Price will get in trouble, and then no Contingency. And Contingency is my favorite level to play.

"Okay," she said simply. "Submarine base. I'm assuming it's heavily guarded. What's our entrance going to be like? How rough?"

By then, Ghost had given up dealing with the wires. He'd gone to stand on the end of the table across from the others to listen in. The cancer stick in his mouth let off billows of smoke—not as awful as how Chemo had been puffing last night—and his pale Adam's Apple bobbed up and down as he gulped. His reddish tinted sunglasses prevented Mckinley from telling if he was looking in her direction, and she suppressed a sigh. Try as she may to change it, this conversation would be very awkward. Would she go as far as to say that MacTavish and Price might happen to notice their more awkward moments? Yes. Unavoidable? Probably.

Great.

"You'll be parachuting to the site," MacTavish answered. "ETA will be about eleven-thirty. Shouldn't take long, unless you land in different sectors."

Mckinley rolled her eyes. Knock on wood, Soap. Thanks for cursing me. At least Price will find me, even if you don't.

At the captain's statement, Ghost drew his tinted sunglasses from the map. "You said 'you'll,' mate. That mean ya' won't be comin' with us on this one?" He crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned back.

"Nope. I'll be arming the Predator missiles for you blokes to use." MacTavish smiled. "Price is in charge of this one. He'll get you through it."

Mckinley raised her eyebrows. "So… when we parachute in, we'll be landing… together." She really wanted to stress the fact that it wasn't going to happen—she'd be stranded far from the others temporarily, no matter what MacTavish said. "As in, like, the same general area."

"If we're lucky, yes," Price answered for the young captain, tilting his head a bit to the side. His scruffy beard curved into a frown. "You seem worried about not landing together, Private. Everything alright?"

All heads turned in her direction. Shit. Back to me. Even Ghost seemed to be staring at her from behind his specs. She blushed crimson.

"Uh… oh, yeah, I'm okay. I just don't like getting separated from the group…" Wringing her hands nervously, Mckinley lowered her head and let a mass of blood-red hair create a veil of safety in front of her face. "I'm just making sure you guys will try your best not to lose me."

"Of course," said Price reassuringly.

"Without a doubt," MacTavish promised.

"I won't leave your side," Ghost vowed, receiving a puzzled side-glance from MacTavish that went unnoticed by Price. "You have nothing to worry about."

In a futile effort to produce heat, Mckinley rubbed her gloved hands together frantically, blowing puffs of air into them as well. Nothing seemed to be working. Her body still decided to shiver. And the three layers she was wearing apparently did no good, either.

The entire group was sitting on the pave low, making their way over Russia to the submarine base where their objective was. It had already been an entire hour, and still, no one had spoken. Members of the Task Force bundled behind their jackets; teeth chattered away and bodies clustered together to warm themselves. Mckinley had to admit that the sight was sad to see. Grown men were freezing their asses off, and they weren't even at the base yet! She wanted to laugh, but that would require her body to move, and she wasn't in the mood for losing any more heat.

When Mckinley wasn't focused on anything but getting warm, Ghost stood from his seat on the opposite bench and came to sit next to her. He was the only one of the task force who didn't seem very bothered by the abominable temperature, for his jacket was partially unzipped to reveal the other layers of clothing he wore. When he sat down, Ghost put his arm around her and pulled her close. Heat flooded her body. Ignoring the questioning looks from those around her, Mckinley put her head on his chest and let the warmth from her lover's body keep her cozy. Again, her mind drifted to the night before, where the two of them had fought for dominance over the other through passionate kiss and lustful touch. Would that ever happen again? Or had it been a one-night stand?

From across the chopper, MacTavish chuckled at the sight. "Aww, it looks like we have a pair of little lovebirds keeping warm," he teased. Much to Mckinley's surprise, he didn't sound angry at all. "Queen, you cold?"

She glanced up at Ghost. From the angle she was resting at, his sunglasses were no longer an obstacle, and she could see his blue eyes. They glistened with contempt, boasting loudly: "You're mine now. No one can take you from me. I love you that much." She was pleased. His hold on her was firm.

"I'm not cold any more," she told MacTavish proudly.

Ghost winked.

"All right! You ready to jump?"

The parachute strapped to Mckinley's back made it difficult for her lungs to expand completely, but she managed to nod at MacTavish in response. Her heart beat hastily behind her ribs, supplying her blood with gracious amounts of adrenaline that she'd need to keep herself from fainting on the way down.

She wondered what her parents would say if she told them she was going to jump out of a helicopter. Her mother would probably faint, her dad would start swearing madly. Both would probably forbid her to even get aboard a pave low in the first place. They were always cautious about Mckinley's health, like good, overprotective parents. And especially since they were in the midst of divorce, the mere thought of leaping out a helicopter would be beyond absurd. Mckinley sighed. She missed them. Yes, all they'd done for the past month or so was yell, fight, and swear. But she missed them. They were her parents. Not having them know what crazy stuff she'd been doing felt strange… illegal, almost. And her younger brother, Aidan… well, he'd be begging to come with her as she parachuted to the submarine base. He was only two years younger than she was, and full of the same adventurous spark. He'd bought Modern Warfare 2 in the first place, wanting to experience the greatest shooter game of the year. He'd be the one encouraging her to jump. Mckinley could almost picture his Irish-green eyes glowing with excitement as she told him about all the adventures she'd went on with Task Force 141—

"Queen!" Someone shook her shoulder wildly. "Come back to earth, love! We're about to jump!"

Mckinley pulled herself from her bizarrely painful daydream and found Ghost standing next to her. He called me love! He called me love! His British accent is SUPER SEXY when he's yelling… he called me love! He called me—She vigorously shivered and shut her eyes briefly to silence the random thoughts popping into her head. Shut up, Mckinley! You're about to fricken' JUMP OUT OF A HELICOPTER. You might wanna pay attention! Stop noticing how hot his accent is and ask him how to open the freaking parachute!

"Remind me how to deploy my chute, again!" Mckinley had to raise her voice, as the doors to the pave low had already opened wide. The wind blowing inside screamed and yowled at them to get a move on.

"When you're nearing the ground, you pull this strap!" Ghost pointed to a black tie dangling from the parachute on her back. "Don't pull it too late—"

"Or I die!" Mckinley finished for him. "Yeah, thanks Ghost! I think I got it!"

He laughed. "You'll be fine, Queen! I promise!" He kissed her forehead through his mask and laughed again. "See ya' when we get down there!"

"Okay… you be careful, too!" she quickly said as Ghost nodded to MacTavish and leapt out into the open air. He vanished as gravity—with furiously strong arms—wrenched him downwards.

The rest of the team followed immediately after, leaving Queen and MacTavish. She watched as everyone disappeared behind the foggy clouds below the chopper, feeling her heart rate pick up.

"What are ya' waiting for?" MacTavish patted her shoulder. "Everything will be fine! Jus' go!"

First, you want me on the pave low because Brazilian militia are chasing me. Now, you want me off the pave low because Russian soldiers are waiting for me. Make up your mind!

Mckinley shut her eyes and took a step forwards. Her feet rested on the edge of the pave low. Sure. What the heck. Taking a deep breath, Mckinley flushed every fear of falling she had down an invisible drain and jumped.

ecto1B: Sing it.

Dunn: No way.

ecto1B: C'mon, sing it!

Dunn: No effing way.

ecto1B: (growing impatient) Dunn... I COMMAND YOU TO SING IT!

Dunn: If I don't?

ecto1B: (cups hands around mouth) Ohhhhh Foley...

Dunn: (grimaces) CRAP. Fine.

ecto1B: Good boy. (hands Dunn a microphone)

Dunn: This sucks... (sigh)... fine... (puts microphone to mouth)

I'M FREE! FREEFALLIN'! YES I'M FREE! FREEFALLING!

Dunn: Was that good?

ecto1B: (claps hands) Yes, very good. You'd make a good Tom Petty impersonator.

Dunn: Oh great. Now when I retire from the Rangers, I'll have a new job. Brilliant.