Hotel Six: A Call of Duty Fanfiction

Chapter 38: Takedown

"The Russians ain't gonna let this massacre go unanswered," said Ghost. "It's gonna get bloody." He ruffled the black hair atop his head and stifled a yawn. There was hardly time to take a moment's rest between bringing Jess home and briefing for the next mission, and it was apparent by the bags under their eyes.

"Too right, mate," said MacTavish, leaning over a tablet on the table in front of them with a map on it. "Now, in the eyes of the world, they're the victims. No one's gonna say a word when the Russians club every American they can reach."

Shepherd's mustache bristled as he pursed his lips. "Makarov was one step ahead. Now he's left thousands of bodies at the feet of an American."

MacTavish rubbed his fingers backward through his hair. "We're the only ones who know this was Makarov's op, and our credibility died with Allen..." 

As he shook his head in dismay, Jess felt a heaviness in her gut. She met eyes with Ghost and with a pang of guilt, looked back at the Captain.

"We need proof..." he said quietly.

Jessica cleared her throat. "What about the arms dealer for his op? Do we know where he got his weapons?"

"Of course." Shepherd flipped a stylus between his fingers and slid the tablet closer to him. "Follow the shell," he said. He opened another window and pulled up a couple of profiles. and drew a circle on the map over Brazil. "Alejandro Rojas." 

MacTavish cocked a brow. "Never heard of him, sir."

"You know him as Alex the Red," replied Shepherd. "He supplied the assault."

Jessica folded her arms, resisting the urge to get excited now that she knew who Makarov had been talking to. This was perfect. Now they knew of someone who had more intel than her, and she wouldn't have to blow her cover. 

Captain MacTavish looked over the map. "One bullet to unleash the fury of an entire nation. Which means..."

"He's our ticket to Makarov."

Jessica sat beside Ghost in the armoury, putting together her pistol. "You okay?" she asked.

He snapped the slide forward on his weapon. "I'm none too thrilled that we're going after someone for intel when we could just ask you."

"Rojas has more intel than even I do. Like I said, I didn't find much beyond that handful of blueprints; he likely has something more to tell us."

Ghost hummed. "Maybe so. What if he doesn't?"

She stroked her thumb over the grip on her pistol. "I don't know. I guess... Go back to the drawing board? Hope that we can find someone else attached to Makarov before something worse happens?"

"... Or you could call Makarov and garner intel?"

Jessica shoved a mag into her weapon with an aggressive snap. "Don't you think a couple of days is too soon to come back to someone after finding out they're a terrorist? Even if I go back to him, I'd have to make it believable."

Ghost snickered. "I thought you said men get stupid when they have good sex?"

She threw her cleaning rag at him. "Yeah, I said they get stupid, not get the IQ of a marshmallow," she retorted. "Makarov is keen- I'm hoping he doesn't notice that I'd been in his office- I'm sincerely doubtful that coming back now would be a good idea."

He jerked his shoulders, standing up to leave. "All I'm saying is, if this doesn't work, you have to."

"I know..."