Call of Desire

5. Response

re·sponse
/rəˈspäns/
noun
a verbal or written answer.

============================================================

Content Warning: Death, Gore, Nightmares

============================================================

General Shepard slammed MacTavish's head into the roof of the rusted car, throwing him to the ground. In one swift movement, Shepard pulled his knife from its scabbard and thrust it into Soap's chest. He groaned in agony, blacking out briefly.

"Five years ago, I lost thirty-thousand men in the blink of an eye." Shepard hissed. "And the world just fuckin' watched."

Soap slowly opened his eyes again, looking up and General Shepard, who towered over him.

"Tomorrow, there will be no shortage of volunteers, no shortage of patriots." He growled, emptying empty bullet casings from his revolver and loading two fresh bullets into the chamber. One for MacTavish. One for Captain Price. He flicked the chamber shut, aiming the gun at Soap's head. "I know you understand." Soap could almost see down the barrel.

Captain Price roared as he tackled the traitor. The gun fired, narrowly missing Soap. Price and Shepard exchanged punches, the revolver flying from the General's hand. Soap watched weakly as it landed several feet in front of him.

The injured man struggled to crawl toward the gun, gasping in agony at every movement. Sand blew into his face, the dagger moving awkwardly in his chest. Just before he reached the revolver, Price came crashing down behind it, Shepard following behind him, kicking the handgun further from Soap's grasp.

MacTavish glared up at the traitor. Shepard's boot came crashing down onto his face. He lost vision again, the ringing in his ears overcoming the sound of the wind.

He eventually opened his eyes again to see Shepard land a punch to Price's jaw, pulling the man towards him and smashing his head into the Captain's nose. Price stumbled backwards, wiping the blood off his face before returning a blow to Shepard's eye.

MacTavish's vision faded in and out, watching helplessly as Captain Price and General Shepard fought.

His sight returned once again to see Price down in the sand, the General standing over him. Shepard fell to his knees and landed blow after blow into the Captain's head.

Get up, Cap.....

Hit after hit, Price did not fight back.

No, no, no... get up... Price...

Soap's attention turned to the dagger jutting out of his chest.

Throw the knife... into Shepard... C'mon, MacTavish...

His hands twitched, his fingers wrapping around the handle of the blade. MacTavish's heart pounded, his entire body trembling as he attempted to pull the knife from his chest. Pain exploded through his body as he struggled. The knife finally came free, Soap gasping in shock, blood splattering his hands and face. He held the dagger by the end of the blade, aiming for the General.

With all of his remaining strength, he flung the knife, watching as the blade sunk itself into Shepard's eye socket. The body fell limply backward onto the sand.

Captain Price remained motionless.

John MacTavish's eyes brimmed with tears of despair and sorrow. He blinked slowly, staring at the Captain. He felt his eyes unfocus, the sand blowing across his face. The warm wind attempted to soothe the broken man as he lost all hope, gazing at the bodies before him...