Disavowed but Not Forgotten (Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 3 Fanfiction) ✓

Chapter 7

Author's Note: Here is the next chapter. Enjoy Chapter 7! :)

If you have any writing tips, please feel free to comment.

Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills as a writer.

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Chapter 7

"Bad news, the president never made it to Hamburg for the peace summit," said Red, leaning against the wall.

"Looks like Makarov's played his next hand," said MacTavish groaning.

Williams was checking MacTavish's wound, as the ETF and the 141 were huddled together observing charts and papers with intel on their enemy.

"And I thought that the peace summit was going to calm things down," said Allen, looking at her missing pinkie.

"If Makarov puts himself back on the grid, he wants it to be known," said Price, thoughtful.

"So where do we start hunting?" continued MacTavish.

Williams sighed as she started putting bandages on MacTavish's abdomen but he stopped her.

"Lieutenant, I'm fully healed," he said, "There's no need for that."

"You're not hundred percent healed, Soap," she said, worried.

"He'll be fine," said Price.

"Captain Price, I suggest we start searching in Sierra Leone," said Yuri. "Makarov's using a local paramilitary group to move shipments from there, to Morocco and Spain.

Yuri circled the key places he just mentioned on a map that was lying around in front of them. MacTavish narrowed his eyes as she scratched his stubble thoughtfully.

"He's moving north..." he said finally.

"Right towards her majesty's doorstep," Price sighed. "What's the cargo?"

"No idea," shrugged Yuri, "but it's important to him."

"Then I want it."

"That's good and all but we need a plan," said Malloy.

MacTavish pointed at a river in Sierra Leone on the map.

"We can use the river to get in close. There's a factory in the camp where they store the shipments," he said. "The PRF's been waging genocide in the highlands for months. They'll be everywhere."

"Great..." Daniels groaned.

"Makarov wouldn't let this travel lightly if it didn't serve a greater purpose," said Price, loading his M14 EBR. "Chances are, the bastard will be there personally to see things off. If he's back on the grid, then so are we.

"Let's move out," said Malloy.

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"Price, we're outside the village, east of your position; over," said Malloy in her earpiece.

"Copy that; we'll meet you at the factory. Price out."

"Ok ladies, stay low and keep out of sight."

"Copy that Shadow," they replied.

The ETF moved from cars to low walls to barrels to stay hidden the best they could from the local militia. The place was a dump; trash covered the streets, houses looked like they were going to collapse any minute. People were running and screaming with the local soldiers in pursuit. The soldiers' age ranged from probably eighteen to over thirty, wearing maroon berets and sunglasses. Some of them had their AK-47 over their shoulder looking all high and mighty.