H4H4H4 H3Y TH3R3!
Sorry, I've been reading Homestuck...a lot...lately, and I started to use Terezi's typing quirk...I recommend Homestuck, it's on MS Paint adventures~
Anyway, I decided to take a break from Ghost and Roach and show our wonderfully Scottish Captain MacTavish... (BTW, new boyfriend got a haircut-he looks like MacTavish now, and is sooo much higher in my book now, Jegus I love him...)
But yea anyway, enough with that anecdote. I will say the next chapter-and I'm pretty the next one as well-will be very, very, very intense. And I mean like...You're going to wonder why I wrote it when I really, really, really am squirmish around that stuff...
You'll see...
Enough about that, I hope you enjoy this chapter first!
That mission was one of the worst he's experienced since the formation of the Task Force-and he vowed for nothing like that to ever happen again.
For over the past week now, MacTavish had holed up in his office, the lights dimmed and blinds shut. It was havoc on his eyesight, but with his sole focus of attention on his computer and the mass of paperwork he actually despised with all of his might he enjoyed the dark. It kept him from seeing things, like Roach's stupid grin on his face as he would burst in laughing with the latest joke someone on base said that he already heard; Ghost merely coming in unannounced and silent, sitting across from him and saying one word and laughing when MacTavish jumped a foot in the air because he was concentrating on something else; Flicks coming in with, true to his call sign, a new movie for MacTavish to watch on his downtime-which were actually good recommendations; and Blackbird with some interesting fact of life that he shared with everyone to brighten their days.
He didn't want to remind himself that two of those four were dead; and that the other two were currently (hopefully alive) in the hands of someone they had no information on. The prospect on their current condition was grim.
These thoughts were pushed to the back of his mind as MacTavish glanced over at the foot-high paperwork he had just completed, rubbing one eye tiredly. There was no denying he was extremely exhausted-to anybody coming into the room they could see the dead tired eyes with dark circles encompassing them, the stress clearly written on his face. The unkempt Mohawk and facial hair left him with a gruff appearance, and the probable smell of unkempt hygiene lingered around him.
MacTavish knew he was a complete wreck; he wasn't going to deny it. But the constant work made him not think.
Someone knocked on the door. MacTavish had locked it when he burrowed inside his office, trying to avoid his team. But with the curious sound of keys entering the lock MacTavish stared at the door, eyes widening when Archer walked in.
"We need to get you out of here John. This isn't healthy."
"Archer? Wha-how did you get my keys?" MacTavish rubbed his eyes vigorously as Archer turned on the light.
"I've had your keys since the first day of the Task Force. You gave them to me." Archer replied coolly, surveying the mess he found himself in. "Burying yourself in work again? You can't keep doing this."
"I can do whatever the hell I want." MacTavish muttered angrily. Archer sighed, sitting in the chair opposite MacTavish. MacTavish slumped back into his chair, sighing as Archer studied his features.
"When was the last time you ate? Or slept? Or God forbid actually took a shower?" Archer finally asked.
"How many days has it been since the mission?" MacTavish asked.
"Nine."
"There's your answer."
"John, this isn't healthy." Archer's face held a deep frown as they made eye contact.
"Aye, but who ever said being a captain was a healthy job?"
"That's not what I meant."
"I know what you meant." MacTavish leaned forward, resting his head on propped up hands. "I just haven't had the time."
"Haven't had the time? Or forcing yourself to work thus not letting yourself have time?" Archer countered.
"I don't need this right now Marcus." MacTavish groaned.
"Right, what you do need is a meal, a hot shower, and rest." Archer nodded.
"Marcus…"
"John. You're beating yourself up over this! It's almost as bad as four yea-"
"Don't go there." MacTavish said sternly. Archer remained silent, radiating anger. "I just lost four good men. I-"
"You said you would go back for them." Archer reminded him bitterly. MacTavish balked, pausing for a moment before letting his head fall onto the desk.
"I know, I know."
"Then bloody do something about it!" Archer yelled, slamming a fist down on the table making MacTavish jump in surprise. "We're all upset at what happened John! But what happens, happens! But now we have to fix it!" MacTavish remained still, taking deep breaths before slowly sitting up.
"I…I guess you're right."
"Bloody hell am I right."
"Right…where to start?" MacTavish asked.
"…Jayhawk and I went to the compound three days ago to see what we could find." Archer answered hesitantly. MacTavish raised an eyebrow in confusion.
"Oh? What happened?"
"The place is empty. Nothing's there anymore. We couldn't even find bodies. It was a ghost town." MacTavish sighed angrily. "Well, what do you suggest?"
"…we'll organize a search for them. Start gat-"
"That won't be necessary Captain MacTavish." Shepherd's gravelly voice interrupted them, the door barely making a sound as it swung open to reveal the battle-hardened general. Archer and MacTavish jumped in surprise.
"General Shepherd! How are you?" Archer asked politely. Shepherd seemed to ignore him, his eyes on MacTavish.
"I heard you had four KIA's last mission." MacTavish fidgeted uncomfortably.
"Actually sir…we had two KIA and two POW-"
"Son, this Task Force does not have POW status. It's either you're alive or you're dead. There is no in between." Shepherd cut Archer off harshly, sparing a quick glance at the shocked sniper before he returned his hard gaze to the Scottish captain. "I'll need the notice of death for them by sundown."
"Y-yes sir." MacTavish replied. He had avoided writing those out-it was pretty much the only thing he hadn't done.
"Meanwhile we have another mission. Better get settled what you need to, because you're out for a long time. You'll be taking a majority of the team on this one-I think we can get Makarov with this." Shepherd said, tossing a folder down onto the table. Archer moved to stand behind MacTavish as he opened it, a very familiar photo of Makarov staring at him. MacTavish moved the photo to the side, scanning the documents quickly.
"A weapon's trade?" Archer asked skeptically. "You think we can take Makarov down here?"
"If not that, possibly stop his supply lines."
"Wait…this…this is a two month engagement." MacTavish glanced up at Shepherd, confused. "It'll take two months for this?"
"I want you there six weeks in advance. You'll be in Venezuela, near the probable location. You should be able to become more familiar with the territory than the Inner Circle and whoever they're trading with. What my sources are confused over is who they're trading with-apparently they've been under the wire for close to four years." Shepherd explained.
"Any specific men you want out?" MacTavish asked tiredly, a hand running over the Mohawk slowly.
"It's up to you. You'll be leaving in a week." Shepherd replied. "Any questions?" MacTavish shook his head.
"Actually sir…what about Ghost and Roach?" Archer asked. "I mean, they could still be alive, and since Ghost is a lieutenant he would have valuable information about the 141."
"They know what they signed up for. They knew the risks, and they took the job. There's nothing we can do for them." Shepherd said gruffly. Archer stared in shock.
"But sir! W-"
"No buts Sergeant Laurence." Shepherd cut him angrily. MacTavish put a hand on Archer's shoulder comfortingly as he stood up. Archer's anger was plainly on his face, and he knew that the younger man could be quite volatile when upset.
"I'll get the team ready and give you the list tomorrow." MacTavish said.
"But Jo-"
"Marcus." MacTavish said sternly. Archer stared at him as MacTavish turned to Shepherd. "We understand sir. Is that all?" Shepherd nodded.
"I changed my mind, I'll be back for the notice of deaths tomorrow instead." With that, Shepherd turned on his heels and left, the door closing swiftly behind him. Archer and MacTavish stood in silence before Archer spoke up.
"He's not bloody serious, was he? That we would just leave them there?"
"Of course he was serious." MacTavish muttered, sitting back into his chair and sighing.
"So we're just g-"
"No, we're not going to bloody leave them there!" Archer closed his mouth, watching MacTavish slump down. This was a lot of stress on the captain, he knew that much. And with how little he had been taking care of himself lately, the stress was starting to take a toll on his health.
"John? If we're not leaving them, then what's the plan?" MacTavish gave a hum in thought, drumming his fingers on the desk as he stared at the calendar.
"…who's taken their leave this year?" he asked suddenly. Archer frowned, thinking through the long list of people.
"Maybe…Bearcat, Katana, Orc, and I think Sparrow and Taco." He replied. "Why?"
"We're going to find them." MacTavish replied. "Gather some volunteers; we're doing a black op."
Yes, there will be times where I randomly go to MacTavish's point of view to give the story a breath of fresh air. Good, no?
;P Hope you enjoyed!
And I would love to hear what you like about this story so far! What do you want me to do to them?