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

Chapter 12

Author's Note: 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 12

"And so it starts," thought MacTavish.

The beefy and the scrawny guards have moved him into another room possibly for interrogation. All they did, for now, was toy with him; walking around him, unloading and loading their guns. MacTavish didn't utter a word while all of this was going on.

 He waited patiently as he hung from his arms barely managing to keep balance swaying on his tiptoes.

"Where is Price?" asked the beefy guard.

The guard had a Russian accent just like Yuri and Red. By that question alone, MacTavish could deduct that Price was supposed to be captured as well but managed to escape. That put his mind at ease as he thought that Price was being kept in another room.

As MacTavish decided not to reply, the scrawny guard arranged his leather gloves and punched him in his abdomen. MacTavish groaned but did not speak.

"Where is he?" he asked again with forced calmness.

"I don't know," replied MacTavish.

This earned him more than one punch as the guard turned MacTavish in a punching bag. He spit blood on the floor and felt his eyes drooping. His abdomen and back were on fire but he did not complain.

"I will ask you one last time; where is Price's location?!"

MacTavish sighed and shook his head.

"Were you always this stupid or did you take lessons?" he asked, mocking him.

The guard gritted his teeth and pushed his colleague away. That cheeky remark earned MacTavish a blow to his face and a couple more on his body.

After another hour of questioning for information about Price and Makarov and countless hits, they unlocked the shackles and dragged him back to his room.

He glanced over his head and saw his arms chained on top of him. His stomach was growling, he was feeling cold and now he was bruised and bloody all over. He wouldn't admit it, but he was thankful that Malloy had patched him up the day before or he would have found himself in a worse state.

MacTavish was asleep when the door opened again. He lost track of time and had no idea if it was morning or evening or if just an hour had passed or more. These thoughts soon disappeared as he heard the clicking of heels echo through space. 

He lazily opened his eyes and saw a pair of familiar, lean legs. His eyes traveled upwards and saw Malloy in a rich, dark emerald satin dress and black heels. MacTavish snorted and smirked as she sat down near him.

"What do you want?" he murmured.

"They started questioning you," she replied, as she studied his body.

"You are so observant," replied MacTavish, his words full of sarcasm.

After sitting in a few minutes in silence, out of the blue, she got on top of him and rested her hands on his bare torso. MacTavish held his breath and was cautious of her next moves. The dress rode upwards exposing her thighs more.

Her lips caressed the side of his face as her hands wandered all over his body. What frightened him most was the fact that he couldn't stop her. Or perhaps, it was because he didn't want to.