The Bullet's Mark (Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 3 Fanfiction)

Chapter 27

    Price and Yuri returned a few hours later with information about the captured Russian President and the location of his daughter. Makarov was using the latter as leverage to get precious information out of the President. Nikolai had contacted an American by the codename of "Sandman" in that time to try and get his team to the daughter located in Berlin before Makarov's men captured her too. 
    "That man will say anything if they get his daughter," Price finished explaining as he wiped off some dried mud from his hands. "Sandman and his team are en route now and will be in contact." 
    "If Makarov gets her...he will make the President break," I shook my head. "Shit. What do you know about this Delta Force?" 
    I looked through their files over the computer as Price responded. "They're enough to do the job Sam. They're the only ones who could be there when we couldn't." 
    "Our main issue is Makarov," I reminded. "The rest of the war—"
    "Is just as much our issue as it is theirs," Price responded tactfully. "If we find something out they need to know too. This war is affecting all of us and the sooner it's over, the better." 
    "Agreed," Soap nodded. "How soon will we know?" 
    "Da...they're working on getting to her now," Nikolai spoke up from where he sat in the corner. "A matter of hours." 
    "We need to be ready in case things go south," I suggested. 
    "Already on it," Yuri called out from the armory. 
    "The shipment should be coming into town by now," Nikolai directed his words at Price.
    "Soap, take Sam with you and go pick up the ammo. Codeword is 'firefly' so the guys know who you are." 
    "Aye," Soap looked at me and motioned for me to follow him. 
    We both exited the safehouse, heading to the rickety jeep-like vehicle we'd been using for traveling to and from town. I hopped in the passenger seat as Soap started the older blue thing and began to drive. 
    "Nikolai's men have been supplying us pretty decent," Soap commented as we drove through the humid jungle-like environment. 
    "I don't trust Russians easily nowadays," I shrugged. 
    "You're letting the war get to you," Soap reminded. "Remember...not every Russian is a bad one." 
    "Yeah," I huffed, "but name one that hasn't screwed us yet." 
    "Nikolai and his few friends," Soap smirked when I groaned in annoyance. 
    "That still doesn't mean I completely trust them!" 
    Soap chuckled and then slowed as we headed into town. People were on foot, strolling to and from huts or buildings. The ocean was a roaring backdrop, looking cold and ruthless under the cloudy and drizzling sky. Part of me couldn't wait until I could be under a nicer sky with more lenient weather. 
    "This climate kills me," Soap spoke my own thoughts. 
    "I was just thinking something similar." 
    We drove down to the loading area...docks that were barely standing and had been roughed up by the salty water. Soap left the vehicle running as he got out and walked over to a group of rugged men. He spoke a few words to them and then they nodded. 
    I followed Soap, watching as the men began to lift crates out of part of their boat. To anyone else they may have looked like crates of fruit or linens, but I knew in the darkness of the small boxes were more supplies suited to our lifestyle. 
    Soap spoke their foreign language in a thanking manner after we had all loaded the back of the truck. I got in next to him without a word as we began to head back to the safehouse. 
    "Seems like Price has some interesting things planned with the amount of ammo," Soap smirked and, as he drove, took one hand off the wheel to reach over and hold my own. 
    "Or maybe it's just best to be prepared and stock up." 
    "Maybe," Soap hummed. 
    I smirked. "Or maybe it's cause you keep using up the ammo...you inaccurate bastard." 
    Soap started laughing, a rare sound to my ears, and squeezed my hand. "Nice one." 
    
We reached the safehouse within a short time. Yuri helped us unload the ammo and supplies to make everything move faster. Price and Nikolai were still stationed by the comms, waiting and planning for Sandman's update. 
    I headed into the same room after the supply run was finalized. Soap and Yuri followed more slowly, ears pinned toward the computers. About that time, the comms buzzed in by Price. Sandman himself was trying connect. 
    "Sandman," Price greeted a little more gruff than usual. 
    A slightly more higher pitched tone came through. "Price, we lost the girl." 
    I wanted to punch a wall but Soap beat me to it by slamming the side of his fist against the one he was next to. Yuri shot him a look of agreement, only clenching his fists in frustration.
    Sandman continued without knowing our aggregation. "Looks like the helo is taking her to a diamond mine in Siberia." 
    "This is gonna need all of our bullets," Price took in the information and pulled up a map of the mine. "Your team is ready?" 
    "Always." 
    "Good. We're gonna have one shot to grab the President before he gives up the launch codes and Makarov turns Europe into glass," Price was looking like he was already putting on his gear. "Once we get boots on the ground, it's going to get lively down there."
    Sandman's smirk could be heard through the mic. "Hopefully you can keep up, old man."
    Soap stood a little straighter to the idea that someone else finally called Price old. I shot him a look of boredom which made him smile just a touch more. Price only shook his head in annoyance to all of us.
    "I know you Yanks like to take all the credit. So my team and I will keep the neighbors in check while we roll hard to secure the hostages."
    My type of playing field. Everyone was hostile and we could cruise through them all without a specific style. In fact, everyone could have their own individual style and we'd still smoke the bad guys. 
    "Good," Sandman agreed. "We'll meet up soon then." 
    The comms went silent, signaling the Delta Force leader had already disconnected to prepare his team. Price turned to face us with a stoic, determined face. 
    "Doubling our numbers, hmm? I like the sound of those odds a lot actually," I uncrossed my arms. 
    Price nodded. "Sandman and his team should make securing the hostages easier. It's going to be hot down there." 
    "Considering where we're going...I'm not complaining," I joked, heading to the armory. 
    "I hate the snow," Soap mumbled. 
    "Dogs, snow....is there anything good you like?" I piped back. 
    Soap shot me a look of playfulness. "You." 
    "Gross you two," Nikolai made a gagging sound and left the room to prepare his Little Bird. 
    I chuckled, the sound and expression not truly reaching my heart. Yuri tossed me a jacket that would fit me best and smiled; the smile wasn't returned. Soap also began to gear up, his attitude growing more serious by the moment. 
    With this mission—if successful—I knew the war would be brought to a peace. American forces rescuing the President of Russia from Ultranationalist Makarov? Easy peace treaty right there. 
    That was if the mission ended up being successful. With my current record my hopes weren't as high as they'd been in the past.
    
Within a matter of an hour we were on our way to Siberia to meet up with the Delta Force Team. Nikolai piloted us to the nearest rendezvous where we'd team up and take on the diamond mine as one larger force. 
    I was uneasy teaming up with them only because of our current, wanted statuses. We were working together yes, but in the end we were still disavowed and had a bounty on our heads because of Shepherd. What was stopping them from taking advantage of that? 
    "Hold up," Price signaled. "That's them across the way there." 
    Sandman flashed the face of his watch our way using the slight bit of sunlight we had. Price returned it and then we continued to meet in the middle of the more open ground. 
    "Price," Sandman nodded to the older soldier, reddish facial hair and actual locks poking out from under his helmet, sunglasses shielding his eyes.
    The rest of Sandman's band were gruff. Truck, one of the thicker ones was dark-skinned and burly. He watched all of us with a keen eye and a bit of unease. Grinch was a little more slim with a ball cap and sunglasses. He had lighter hair and a twitch of his trigger finger. McCoy was a quiet one with a constant shift in his weight from side to side. Sandman himself was the most collected by far. 
    "We need to keep moving," Price suggested, deciding the teams had likely sized each other up enough. "An elevator should be that way. We take it down and make a move on them." 
    Sandman only nodded once in agreement, gripping his rifle a little tighter. The rest of his men did the same, looking at the head of their group. Price led the way as we closed the gap to the entrance of the mine.