Sheperd's Shadow

Chapter Eight

Shepherd was walking around us in a straight line. "So, they got off in a C-130, you say?" He said in a deep, rusty voice. A cigarette stuck out of his mouth, and he proceeded to smoke it. I trembled under the pressure. Our squad didn't know what would happen now. For all we know, he could kick us out of the group, the it would be back to DC without a medal. The man was a legend, we commanded soldiers in Afghanistan when the nuclear bomb was detonated. Suua nodded at the Lieutenant General. "Yes sir." He said. Shepherd nodded. "And you attempted to stop him along with Colonel Nik, correct?" Suua nodded. We had just found out the name of the colonel commanding Butcher Three One, who insists we call him "Nik." I am not sure why, because I would think he would believe nicknames are immature and undisciplined. Yet, he still would like to be called "Colonel Nik."

We had just arrived to Site Hotel Bravo from the boneyard, which was victorious against the Ultranationalists. However, this was not the case against Task Force 141. Even though our team had killed a member, there were still two members, which Shepherd put on the Most Wanted lists. They were now one of the most wanted enemies of the military. We were now in a tight situation because we had failed to kill the two members, and Sherphed was reviewing what we were saying about it in the Communications office Oxide uses. Shepherd continued walking in a straight line, and then he started speaking. "You have killed a member of Task Force 141, which you shall be rewarded for. And I know that you could not do much to kill the other members, but I want to replace your two fallen sqaudmates. You have heard of one of them, his name is Fiddler." Fiddler, where the hell have I heard that name before? I tried thinking of the time before we arrived at Hotel Bravo. Past that, the drunk? No, he wasn't wearing his name tag, and the colonel said his name was Maxson or Mason, definitly not Fiddler. Then, I realized he was the quartermaster for the firing range. But why is he joining us at the front?

Right then, Fiddler walked out of the doorway that leads to the supply depot in full uniform. "Of coarse!" Stanley said. Fiddler ran over carrying a UMP-5 with holographic sight. He quickly joined in line with us. "Fiddler is now your primary detachment commander of Butcher One, so listen to him." Fiddler fidgets a little bit, but continued standing in formation. "As for your second soldier, his name is Corporal Jake Dunn." General Shepherd explains. He motions towards the door Fiddler had walked through just moments ago, and there stood a lone soldier. He was wearing the basics, vest and all. He was leaning against the wall, and when he was called he stopped leaning and started walking over. Shepherd continued talking. "These two are your replacements." He turned towards Suua. "Fiddler is now the commander of this squad. You may still order them around, your now second in command." Suua nodded and Shepherd smiled. He patted him on the shoulder and started talking again. "Now, based off of our Intel, Task Force 141 was talking over the Russian's intercomm. They might have gotten information on us, so suspect anything." He then motioned us to walk away. "Dismissed."

Our group started making our way towards the our hall, and I was talking with Fiddler while we did so. Mostly it was private life. "So..." Fiddler said, jogging over to me. "How did you end up here?" I shrugged. "My detachment was destroyed when we were taking the capital building, sir..." Fiddler stopped me right away. "Please, don't call me sir at times like this. We should relax." I smiled. "If you insist." I said. "Anyways, I was one of the only survivors, and I managed to get myself a medal. Not yet, though." He sighed. "That's how it is now, everyone so damn busy fighting the war, they won't pay attention to the "Little Heroes." Not to mention there has to be a lot of 'em." What Fiddler was true. The stupid war was making it so everyone was either dead or a hero. And the heroes didn't last long afterwards. The ones that did wouldn't even get something out of it, yet I managed to. Dammit...

Fiddler patted me on the back. "Let's not talk about the military, hell we have had enough of it." He said. "Got a family?" I chuckled at the thought. I had no family, didn't even try to start one. I knew if I did, I knew I would end up killed someday. Then who would care for the family? I just shook my head. Fiddler sighed. He started adjusting something on his utility belt then stopped. "Well, I got married in June to the most beautiful woman in the world." I smiled. "Congratulations..." He smiled and continued talking. "We had been together for two years, then decided why the hell not and got married. Life was simple for a month, then the war came." I frowned. "Was she killed?" I blurted out in curiosity. He shook his head. "No, but she was seriously fucked up. I was patrolling one day and found her lying on the ground, bullets in her legs. Got her patched up, but she can't walk yet, at least I don't think so." Well, shit. Fiddler's wife got shot in the hell bent war. Stupid shit, really. Makarov and his bullshit games caused this, and Shepherd wants to put an end to it. Who doesn't want that, at this point?

"I just hope she isn't suffering." At this point Stanley walked over, putting his arm around Fiddler. "She probably isn't, I'm sorry about that..." Fiddler smiled and faced Stanley. "Thanks, but your not the one who did it." Stanley smirked and put his arm down. Fiddler continued talking. "I heard you and I were bunking together. Nice, eh?" I nodded. "Friendship, something you can use in a war." I said. "Or something that's just plain good to have." Stanley said, punching me in the back. It was a temporary pain that subsided within seconds. "What was that for?" I asked Stanley, who was about to do the same for Kirkland. "Amusement." He then punched Kirkland in the back, who crumpled to the floor gripping his back. "Get up, Kirkland. Fuck if I know why your sensitive to pain." Stanley said. Kirkland whined and Stanley helped him up. Kirkland spit on the ground in front of Stanley. "Never...I mean Never...do that again." Stanley shrugged and gave away a quick smirk. Tan walked over and started helping Kirkland. "You alright?" He said. Kirkland nodded. "Damn grunts." Stanley laughed. Suua smiled and shook his head. "Come on." Fiddler said. "We need some rest. The boneyard wasn't a fucking picnic." I chuckled a little,but we all started walking again. We eventually made it to the hall, and I walked to my room along with Fiddler. Fiddler opened the door and walked inside, keeping the door open long enough for me to get through.

The place was redecorated. It seemed like Fiddler wanted a little class. If he wanted class,he should have gotten his own room. There were two desks in addition to the beds, and one of them had a picture. The desks was made of metal and had an army green color finish. The desk with the picture, which I am guessing is Fiddler's, was slightly off set with mine. The picture on it showed a black-haired woman in front of a single story house. She was bending over, either to pick something up or some other reason. I walked closer and noticed she was petting a cat. The cat was grey, and looked like a British Shorthair. "That's Tommy." Fiddler said. "We found him in an alleyway not far from where the picture was taken. He followed us around all the way home, and we decided to adopt him." Fiddler walked past me and picked up the picture. He stared at it for a while, then put it down. "I think he is alive and with Emily, but there is always a chance." Emily. Emily must have been Fiddler's wife. I was happy for the two, but also I felt a little pity. They were married just before a war broke out. Not exactly a good wedding plan, is it?

"I bet they are alive, not like soldiers would waste ammunition on an animal." I said. He smirked. "Yeah, your right." Fiddler said. "Why the hell am I even worried about them? They are probably with my old detachment or something." I smiled. "Probably, lets just hope your right." I climb the ladder into my bunk in full uniform. I was too tired to take my vest off, so I decided to leave it on. "I'm sorry, Fiddler. I'm just tired." I said and covered myself in blankets. Fiddler nodded and looked at his pictures. "It's fine..." I closed my eyes, and that's when it struck me. That day, I lost two friends. That day, two people would never be coming back. I would never see them again. It seemed so normal, so casual, that it happened. I had seen so much death before that it hardly made me think about it. "Fuck." I said. I grabbed my pillow from under my head and buried it in my pillow. "Dammit..." Fiddler heard me curse and put down the picture he was holding. "Something wrong?" I throw the pillow off the bed, almost hitting Fiddler. He managed to duck, and the pillow hit the wall. "I just realized that two people died today..." I said. My voice was parched and I needed water. "It happens in war, you have to get past it..." Fiddler said, trying to calm me down. "That's the point, I didn't even care they were dead until now, it's like the norm. Like it happens all the time." I said, banging my fist on the bed.

"It's my typical bullshit." I said. "I have seen a lot in DC. Some things I wish I could forget. And now that I have seen two people killed..." I continued speaking. "It's like two more corpses that go in graves, like anything else. And you know what really pisses me off?" Fiddler shook his head. "That some fucking ass is watching this war on TV, eating potato chips, and fucking laughing about it!" I almost hit my fist against the bed again, but stop myself. I calmed myself down, then rested my head against the mattress. "I'm sorry, just needed to get that out of me." Fiddler smiled. "We all do. Don't worry about it." I know Fiddler was just trying to help, but how could I not worry about it. Two people died, and I didn't know until I thought about it. And, better yet, someone was watching this shit on tv like it is a movie, a show, normal fucking life. When did it come to this? When did it come to invading the US? When did it come to fighting Russians in Afghanistan? Makarov and his power, that's what. Liar. Terrorist. He is a fascist, if you ask me. And all for the sake of power and money. Soon his government will burn. And I will be there. To avenge my fallen brothers at DC. To avenge Myers. To avenge Sterling. This war has torn too many people apart, sometimes literally. And it will end. Right here, right now.