War of Hearts

Chapter Twenty-Eight - Warrior

Later that day

The TV lights in the meeting room flashed as an anchorman's voice flooded the speakers.

Breaking News: A Russian passenger jet has just crashed above the Urzikstan mountains. An estimated one-hundred and thirty-three passengers and nine crew members were on board the flight. Experts suspect that the aircraft may have been deliberately crashed after an unexplained and rapid descent. The cockpit voice recorder and passenger cell phones may be able to be recovered to provide key insight into the cause of the crash. Moscow is investigating, but tensions haven't been this high- *Click*

Laswell muted the television as they all sat and watched.

Price sat with his arms crossed. "This has got Makarov written all over it..."

Laswell nodded. "He's done more damage in seventy-two hours than Konni did in five years without him.

"That airliner went down in my country. It was no accident. I need to get to that crash site and prove it was not my people, show the world it wasn't us. I won't have them call us terrorists... not again."

"ICAO data shows that it was a flight out of Kastovia and bound for Sochi." Laswell pointed to a map. "We lost contact in this region."

"That's all I need." Farah gestured for Alex to follow her out and they were on the road in an instant.

"Price and I will review what I got from my contact, Yuri, in the Arklov base. The rest of you, be ready for anything."

They took their dismissal and filed out of the tent to let them work. It was the first time Gaz, Soap, Ghost, and Hex were alone together since their escapades at that tavern in Amsterdam. So much had changed since then, they almost didn't know what to do with themselves. An idea popped into Hex's head, and she gestured for everyone to follow her. The team trailed along without question as she guided them to the soccer field she was shown earlier. To her relief, it was empty other than the ball that was trapped in one of the nets.

Gaz let out a soft laugh and shook his head, Ghost crossed his arms, and Soap stared at the ball blankly. Hex huffed her frustration at their lack of interest, "oh you guys are no fun."

"What!" Soap protested the claim. "I'm fun!!"

"You're just scared you'll lose," she teased as she made her way over to the dust-covered ball.

"Wha- Nuh uh!" Her egging did its job and he ran after her trying to beat her to the ball. Hex heard his fast footsteps and began to run as well, charging towards its resting spot in the tangled netting of the small goal. Gaz barked a laugh and watched the show as the two of them wrestled over possession of the ball. She and Soap were shoving each other as they poorly tried to get it under their feet, both of them cackling wildly at the struggle. "Am I gonna get any help over here or what?!" She shouted to Gaz and Ghost.

Gaz caved and ran to join the struggle while Ghost continued watching. Hex momentarily broke away with the ball, only to be swarmed again by both Gaz and Soap. "WHAT?? Gaz, you traitor!! You're supposed to be on my team." She struggled against the two of them and shouted, "this is not fair!" Her playful whining only fueled their determination as they overpowered her and wrestled the ball away, charging back towards the net and kicking it in. Soap shouted a victory cry, Gaz bumped him in the chest, and Hex rolled her eyes and stomped over to the middle of the small dirt field. "Oh, fuck you guys. Bring it over here for a fair kick off this time." Gaz laughed and picked up the ball, walking over to carefully place it in the carved circle. She stood up in front of him and stuck her tongue out at Soap who stood just beyond. The crunch of dirt under boots caused her head to turn as Ghost assumed a similar position behind her. She smiled wide at him with a grateful expression, and turned back to Gaz as her smile became mischievous and wicked. "You guys are so screwed now."