Hotel Six: A Call of Duty Fanfiction

Chapter 16: Civilians and Insurgents

"We don't negotiate with terrorists." ~Ronald Regan

"Breaking news: a massive attack has left hundreds dead in the village of Al Kanammam in Iraq. Ultranationalists launched an attack on the American and British embassies earlier yesterday afternoon and continued to kill civilians into the evening; the terrorist group threatens to continue their attacks until all foreign embassies are destroyed, and all western forces are eradicated. Prime Minister Francis Urquhart is addressing the country..."

Ghost was running a knife across a coarse sharpening stone, making a hollow rasping. His eyes weren't even focused on the blade; they were trained in front of him with his jaw set so tight that the vein in his temple popped out. 

Rasp...

Rasp...

Rasp........

Jessica clicked the television off and sighed tensely. "Well shit..." she growled.

Price sat at a computer on a desk across the room, his phone pressed to his ear while he listened to someone else on the other end of the line. They were speaking in hushed tones, but it was no mystery that they were talking about immediate action in Iraq. 

Soap put his pistol down on the table in front of Ghost and then rubbed the back of his neck. "The break was nice while it lasted; guess it's about time we got back to work."

The Russians had been quiet for the last two months since their last mission; this attack seemed sudden and drastic, especially considering their last appearance was simply them setting up a base and not doing anything violent or threatening. This was getting scary very fast. 

"Are we heading out soon?" asked Roach. His brows were set high and curved, as though he was trying to look ready and instead looked worried.

Price rose from his seat. "Yes. They expect us to be heading out tomorrow by 13:00, but the sooner the better," he said. 

The men all nodded their heads and stood to begin readying their supplies for the next day. Jessica walked to Price and stood in front of him, her body angled just slightly away as if she were to keep walking and her head tilted up to see his face. "Is this war, or just a threat?" she asked softly.

He sighed. "I don't know that much yet; this may be nothing more than a small band of raiders and nothing more." When no one was looking or listening, he offered her a soft grin and whispered, "Don't worry, my dear; everything will be alright."

"I'm not worried," she said. "I just want to know what to prepare for."

"Anything," he replied, shooting her a more devilish grin as he walked away. "Get your gear together; we don't have a lot of time to doddle."

The air was painfully warm and couldn't quite balance between too thin to breathe and too heavy to be comfortable. Grains of sand rode the churning wind and lashed against the faces of the soldiers on board the helo. Jessica pulled her mask over her nose and squinted her eyes despite the polarized shades shielding them. Her skin stung around her brows and on her cheeks.

Surprisingly, everything was quiet upon their arrival; where were the tangos? A rope dropped from the side of the bird, and they all bailed out the door. The team flinched at the sudden, shrill singing of bullets cutting the calm of the desert village. Jessica, being the last out the door, hesitated when a bullet passed her cheek and bit the metal frame of the door above her head.

"Jess, get the hell down here!" barked Soap over the com, having noticed her hesitation.

She scowled at him and launched onto the rope, soaring down toward the ground. "I'm coming, I'm coming!" she growled back. "In case you weren't aware, mate, there's a shit-ton of enemy fire coming toward u-"