The Bullet's Mark (Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 3 Fanfiction)

Chapter 3

    "It's only a matter of time before he kills me." 
    "What? Don't talk like that!"
    "Millie, you know nothing about him," I stated flatly as she rebandaged my wound. "Once Makarov gets what he wants, he ignores the source entirely." 
    "But have you given him anything?" 
    "I'm beginning to think he's giving up on interrogating me," I sighed. "Besides, I really have nothing to tell him. What use does he have of me?" 
    "You know he wants your skills. He can use them to his advantage," Millie finished wrapping and began to pull my lowered pants back up. 
    "Makarov has a passion of hating Americans," I paused and cocked my head at her. "Which has me curious as to why you're still alive." 
    "I've given him no reason to kill me," Millie breathed. "And my parents were Russian, so I have my safety in bloodlines." 
    I looked toward the door. "Just remember that bloodlines don't always define who you are." 
    "Of course not," Millie lowered her voice. "In all honesty, I'd prefer to be on American soil and raising my daughter. My mother...she was murdered a few months ago not from here. Ever since then...it's been hard to be around." 
    I snagged onto her dream to return to the states. "You'll get your chance to go to the states again. Your leave has been too long." 
    "You already know I can't get you out of here—"
    "What if I revised my plan?" 
    "Makarov—"
    "Has lowered his guards," I interrupted once more. "He may expect me to try and escape, but only alone. With your help, both of us would be free." 
    "I don't know," Millie bit her lower lip, studying my healed face. 
    "It's been two weeks," I mentioned. "Do you trust me at all?" 
    Millie sighed and threw the supplies used for changing my bandaging away nearby. She moved to the sink, scrubbing her hands under water. "I do and I don't. Makarov has never shown me any sign he's who you say he is. You, on the other hand, have and it scares me." Millie turned to cross her arms. "If Makarov has interest in you, who says you aren't the bad guy?"
    I shifted my weight around, testing my puncture wound; I was a lot sturdier than two weeks ago. "You can believe who you want to. As a fellow American who's fought for years, I hope you can try to understand what I've told you." 
    Millie was a curious soul. She had asked hundreds of questions about my life of action throughout the days. I told her everything I could without compromising the more sensitive things. 
    "Well, I can try," she grew short and looked to the door. 
    I followed her gaze to see Makarov entering. His suit jacket waved in the man-made breeze behind him while his eyes stayed more solid on my standing self. I stood a little straighter when he came to a stop. 
    "We're standing now, are we?" 
    "Have been for a few days," I crossed my arms. 
    Makarov let out a low hum as he looked to Millie. "I want a summary of her levels." 
    "Of course," Millie dipped her head and then swept past him; I didn't miss the nervous glance she shot my direction as she did so. 
    "So, what tactics will you be using today rat face? Waterboarding? Lashes from a paddle?" 
    He hummed again, smirking. "I enjoy your enthusiasm almost as much as your splendid ideas, but no. I'm here to talk civilly." 
    "After all the things you've done, you expect me to be civil with you?" I huffed. 
    There had been uses of different drugs, some of which were mind-altering pieces of shit. None of them, even the doses just below lethal levels, had gotten me to spill any information; it was rather amusing to watch Makarov's heightened levels of frustration. Besides that, he'd really just tried to use mental manipulation. Only cause it'd worked once, that was. 
    "If you want to stay alive, you're going to do me a couple of favors." 
    "If you think I'm scared of death, then you really are stupid." 
    Makarov huffed and then stepped closer, crossing his arms. "I've heard you're good at tracking." 
    I gave him silence. 
    "I have a few...troublesome people I'd like to have disappear and I want your help." 
    "Get your minions to help." 
    He looked like he wanted to lose his composure with the clench in his fists. "They aren't skilled enough. You, however, would fit the situation perfectly." 
    I narrowed my gaze. "What you're suggesting is something I'm not." 
    "And what is it I'm suggesting Samantha?" 
    "You want me to be your personal hitman." 
    There was a satisfied gleam in his eyes. "You do this for me and I'll let you go, under the circumstance that you come to my side whenever I need you for more duties."
    "I'm not a—"
    "I'll pay you well, Samantha. And if you really think about it..." Makarov paced even closer to me, leaning to whisper in my ear, "...you'll get your chance at Price too." 
    "Price means nothing to me." 
    "Really?" he leaned back. "You still refuse to believe he left you? If that was the case wouldn't he have tried to come for you by now? Look for you?" 
    "My business with Price is mine alone," I hissed. "Price means nothing to me in this situation." 
    "Hmm," Makarov smirked. "You're considering it." 
    "I'm a soldier," I clenched my fists, glaring at the bastard before me. 
    Which means I'll do whatever it takes to accomplish my mission and survive. 
    "Turned hitman." 
    "I haven't accepted," I growled. 
    Millie strode back in, a sheet of paper in her hand. Makarov hastily took it as she passed and then he glared my way once. I ignored Millie's nervous glance my way. 
    "Looks like you're entirely cleared for your first assignment," Makarov smirked once again and I wanted to cut it off his lips. "Excellent." 
    "I'm not going to work for you," I ground my teeth together. 
    Makarov huffed in amusement and satisfaction. "I'll come by tomorrow. You have until then to change your mind." 
    "Or what?" I spat. 
    Makarov shrugged. "Miss Millie won't have a family to go home to and you, my dear Samantha, won't have her to help you escape." 
    "Escape," I laughed. "You're ridiculously retarded to think I'd rely on a nurse like her." 
    Makarov shot daggers my way with my insult. "Very well." 
    The way he said those words was more of a threat than anything else he'd said while in the room. I watched him exit just as swiftly as he'd entered, liking him much more when he spoke more than just two words. 
    "We're leaving tonight," I kept my voice low. 
    "We?" 
    I turned my entire form toward her, showing her everything I could in my eyes. "Millie, if we don't try tonight then both of us are dead. I want to get you back to America as soon as possible. Do you understand?" 
    She nodded once, eyes brimming with tears. "How can I trust you?" 
    "I'm a soldier and it's my duty to keep my civilians safe. You, Millie, are one of VIP status. Do you know what that means?" 
    "No?"
    "I won't let anything happen to you." 
    She held my unwavering gaze for a long moment. "All right. What's the plan?" 
    
I paced in the loose hospital clothes for at least ten minutes before Millie arrived later that night. She was nervous as she entered my room with nothing but a coat and her small purse. I eyed the clothes slung over her arm. 
    "These scrubs were all I could find," she threw them my way. 
    I examined the dark blue pants and short sleeve. "They'll do." 
    After changing into the more secure clothing, I threw the hospital ones into the unmade bed. Millie nervously kept checking through the open blinds and held her purse close. 
    "Just stay behind me while we go through, okay?" I rested a hand on her shoulder. "You prepared the water system right?" 
    "All you'll have to do is pull the fire alarm," she nodded. "They'll get wet with the acid." 
    "Good," I smiled. "Ready?" 
    "No." 
    I pulled open the door and glanced down the hallway. "Now's your chance." 
    Millie held her purse closer as she exited my room with pep to her step. She waved down the pacing guard, bringing him closer to the doorway. In a simple motion, I unplugged the cord to a mini fan on the counter next to me. 
    "She's giving me sass with her nightly meds and I'm too tired to fight it." 
    Millie walked in first and then the guard paced in beside her. From behind the door, I darted out and brought the cord to his throat. He tried to scream, yet only choking sounds came out. I pulled the cord tighter as the soldier collapsed to his knees, gasping without air. 
    Once the soldier was completely done-for, I knelt down and searched his body. His sidearm and his knife would deem useful. His badges and keys to a vehicle of some sort were readily accepting of my pockets too. 
    "Okay, let's keep moving." 
    Millie eyed the soldier in wariness before nodding. I passed her and checked the left flank of the hallway, heading right instead. Her footsteps vibrated the floor beneath me as we moved.
    "You said straight at the end of this hallway?" I paused to peek around the corner to the empty stretch. 
    "Yes," Millie whispered. "I chose one without a lot of guards posted."
    "Excellent. You made the right choice. We just have to move faster than the security camera guard." 
    I motioned for her to move up as I sank around the corner into the fairly open hallway. There were two carts situated equal distances apart in the hallway. If needed, they served as perfect cover. 
    "Keep your head down," I ordered over my shoulder as I crept up on the first lunch room for doctors. 
    Inside were four Russian guards with their attention focused on a TV screen. It was over the war continuing on around the world. They were intently focused on what the other forces were doing, muttering to themselves about it. 
    I waved Millie forward as I crossed the doorway in a low crouch. She copied my stance and hustled across the opening. Her eyes were wide. 
    Holding a finger to my lips, I continued through the hallway at a low walk. There was one more doorway and then the fire escape just a few yards beyond that. We'd hit the alarm and then get out together. 
    I crossed the second door in a hurry, avoiding any view of the situation inside. Millie waited for my signal, crouching behind a cart. I peeked in to see one Russian soldier sauntering out directly my way. 
    Leaping back, I dove around a more shadowed corner between the meeting room and the door to the stairwell. The Russian followed my steps nonchalantly, complaining about fair treatment or the like, and paused at the stairwell door. 
    I took the opportunity and launched out of the darker corner. I wrapped one hand around his mouth and the other brought the knife to his throat. My legs worked quickly to back us both into the dark corner where I slit his throat. 
    Poking out around the corner again, I checked the doorway. Millie was wide-eyed as I motioned her to come across. She let out a low breath at the sight of the dead enemy. 
    "Come on." 
    Millie jogged behind me as we headed for the door. I reached for the fire alarm as Millie passed me for the exit. 
    "Hey!" 
    "Shit," I growled and dove to the side to avoid being shot. 
    Out of habit, I drew the stolen pistol and shot the alerted Russian. Millie yelped behind me, finding cover behind a metal trash can. I used the crevice to take my own cover. 
    More Russians filed out as the shots were heard. They aimed at me—the one with the gun of course—and let rounds loose. I took more methodical shots, saving all the bullets I could. 
    "Let's move Millie!" I called out when most of the guards had been taken out. 
    She came out from behind the trash can and I reached her side immediately. "I'll get the alarm." 
    "All right," I moved for the door. 
    There was a cry of anger from the end of the hallway and then a few rounds out of the automatic gun. I turned and popped off an accurate shot, hitting the unexpected Russian in the chest at the same time Millie pulled the fire alarm and jerked backward.
    "Millie?" I demanded over the loud screeches of the acid-trapped alarm. "Millie!" 
    The young nurse was holding her side as she began to collapse. I ran to catch her, immediately dragging her back. She panted. 
    "You can make it through—"
    "The hell...I can Samantha," she breathed. "I'm a nurse." 
    I nodded, looking up to where the acid water was beginning to turn on one sprinkler at a time. Millie squeezed my hand as I settled onto my knees with her. 
    "Makarov won't stop until he gets what he wants." 
    "I already know that..." 
    "No," she shook her head. "He's my father...I know him best." 
    The revelation actually shocked me. "Father?" 
    Millie nodded weakly as her light started to go out. "If you can, make sure my family ends up okay. Please." 
    "Of course," I whispered. 
    And she was gone. 
    "There!" 
    Snapping up from the unfortunate situation, I clenched my jaw. My hands slowly released the bloody mess of Millie and I stood. With the shots beginning to fire, I stumbled backward into the emergency exit. 
    "Что в этой воде? Оно горит!" 
    There were screams that started to erupt as I thundered down the steps. The side parking lot held a few military-like vehicles, I realized, as I descended upon it. My fingers fumbled for the keys I'd taken and I pressed a button. A vehicle chirped in recognition and I bolted for it. 
    I got into the SUV and started it up, giving no time for warm-up as I drew out of the parking lot. From my place in the smaller lot, I gained a good look at the big hospital. A blasting mess of acid rain, pissed Russian soldiers, and confused staff, the place was suddenly so alive compared to minutes beforehand. With everyone on alert, it wouldn't be long until Makarov found out. When he did, hell would break loose to find me again. 
    I smiled to the last thought. My fingers gripped the steering wheel just a little tighter.
    Good. We let the mission begin then.