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

Chapter 10

    "My contact traced the delivery freighter to an outfit in Bosaso, Somalia. It's run by a man Waraabe...piece of work by the sounds of it," Price explained once we had all been gathered in the briefing room. "We're on our own for this one, but with five of us I have no doubts."
    Soap was examining the wall of pinned photos sent by Price's contact, his finger running along the bottom of his chin as he contemplated the security and personnel. "What's the security look like?"
    "Strictly second division. Local triggermen guard the compound," Price responded quickly, as if knowing Soap was going to ask that.
    "We'll stick out like bollocks on a bulldog," Soap commented.
    "Stealth won't be an option then," I added, narrowing my eyes at the map of the place, a red circle where Waraabe's office would be.
    Price faced us with a tiny smirk at the corner of his lips. "Then we'll just have to kick in the front door."
    "Before we do this," Roach's English accent spoke up from where he leaned against the wall and all eyes moved to him, "Sam I've got a question for you."
    I prompted him to continue with a nod of my head.
    "Did Makarov tell you anything? Give any specific information while you were his prisoner?"
    I hesitated. What was important to share here? Roach was asking for military tactics, anything to take the bastard down. Explaining the situation with Millie wasn't entirely relevant.
    "No," I shook my head. "I tried as best I could to gain intel but that man is as thick as iron. He did want me to turn against the remaining Task Force members, especially Price, but that failed miserably. So the only motive he has that I can guess would be a vendetta against you," I looked at Price.
    Something was hidden behind Price's gaze. I caught it in the flicker of dimmer lighting above before he shielded it away deeper once more.
    "It's nothing of importance now," Price pointed out. "There's a mission to complete."
    "Agreed," I blurted, deciding to figure out the hidden look later on.
    "Gear up," Price ordered and then looked at Yuri. "Tell Nikolai to ready his men."

"Don't you get car sick Fox?"
    "Who do you take me for Roach?" I snapped back in an amused tone. "We all know you have the weak stomach."
    Roach grinned and then gripped the bar of the open Jeep Wrangler in preparation. Our driver was skilled as he followed the flank of Price, Soap, and Yuri; I didn't admire having a Russian Loyalist driving us, but an ally was an ally. Nikolai had set us up with a group of his own, trusted men to assist taking Waraabe.
    The Jeep harshly bounced around as we charged the docks in Bosaso, making a loud and grand entry for the enemies scrambling just ahead. I clutched a bar to my right, holding myself in place as we caught a bit of air in our travels.
    "Just move quickly and we can snag Waraabe before he bolts," Price announced as we came at full force.
    "Especially quick," Soap added into the comms. "The sandstorm's moving in fast! We only have one shot at this."
    I eyed the distant storm brewing up danger and destruction; it looked like a hungry mouth ready to devour the buildings between itself and our team. "Great."
    Yuri stood up in the back of Price's Jeep, pulling out his weapon as we raced for the entrance to the docks. Roach copied, rising to lay down fire, as Nikolai flew ahead and softened up the defenses.
    We slid to a stop just inside the metal gates, alarms sounding off. I jumped out of the Jeep quickly, sliding behind a stack of crates for cover. The others fanned out to do the same, facing Waraabe's men as they countered the attack.
    "Slot these bastards fast!" Soap ordered into the comms, reloading as he spoke.
    I peeked out from behind my temporary cover and shot a couple of mistimed, running enemies. They cried out as they slid down to their death against concrete. Others dodged their fallen comrades and bullets, communicating in Somali.
    "They're targeting us with mortars!" I shouted upon seeing the mortar set ups further off the docks.
    "Nikolai, we need that air support!" Price shouted, reloading after throwing a frag.
    Yuri waited for the signal and then ripped out the controller for the chopper turret. His muscled, tattooed forearms flexed as he gripped the screen. He twitched as he shot down at the buildings ahead of the team.
    "I'll fly back for another pass," Nikolai stated as his chopper circled away from the docks.
    I waited for Yuri to tuck away the screen and regain his weapon while the others moved forward. He shot me a glance of gratitude and then covered my flank while we joined the rest of the team.
    Ahead, two trucks firing machine guns on our position rounded the corner from a main alley. I swept right, taking cover under the docks and behind a pillar holding them up. Soap banked right with me, letting out a breath of frustration.
    "Sweep under the docks!"
    I reloaded and looked at him the same time he did me. We held determined gazes for a moment before I nodded to him and released the pin of a frag. I threw it as far as I could as Yuri, Price, and some Loyalists moved forward on the left side of the street. Soap covered my flank as the pair of us charged forward.
    "The remote gun is online," Nikolai checked in for all to hear.
    Yuri was quick to begin firing hell on Waraabe's men with the gun. I watched as dust flew up from the impact of the bullets. A lot of enemies dove for cover, some not quite in time.
    I moved into a building, crouching at low windows to pinpoint more targets. Soap joined my side, swinging around and out a doorway to fire suppressive rounds. Behind me, a panting male joined the pair of us and I sharply glared that way to make sure it wasn't one of Waraabe's men.
    "Roach, where the hell have you been?"
    "Busy," he managed and then pulled out a detonator. He squeezed the trigger and off to the far right explosions set off.
    "You sly bastard," I winked and he nodded.
    "Yuri is doing swell with the turret," Roach moved to cover Soap's flank as the older soldier drew back to reload.
    "And it's our job to close the distance," Soap was serious. "Sam take point."
    I nodded and then swung around left, toward the center of the road. Yuri finished a final run with the turret, clearing out the remaining MGs and stragglers. I kept my aim strict as I closed the distance to the entrance of Waraabe's hiding place—a rather elaborate mansion overlooking the docks taken over by the team. Upon reaching the spot and finding it clear, I glanced back to see the other four men joining my flank.
    "Let's find this bastard," Price growled, taking point as we moved into the open and breezy hallway. "Echo Team, we're entering the target building."
    I shot a glance to Yuri. He was always strangely quiet and focused during excursions; the focused part wasn't bad, I just didn't quite trust the quiet part. His dark eyes shifted to meet mine when he felt my curious gaze.
    What's going on in that little mind of yours?
    I could practically hear him asking that same question as I moved alongside him at the rear of the team. Price and Soap communicated the clearing of corners and rooms on the way up to where Waraabe was.
    "Possible visual on Waraabe," Nikolai came into the comms. "Second floor!"
    We moved up to the second floor, engaging in short-lived contact with hustling men. They let out cries as Roach and Price took them out. Soap moved forward as a leader, he kicked the chest of an unexpectant enemy, throwing him off the centered balcony to the floor far below.
    "Smooth," I flirted lowly as I passed him, eyes pinpointed on the double doors blockaded at the center of the airy level of the building.
    "Weapons tight," Price ordered in a hushed voice and looked more pointedly toward me. "We need him alive."
    "Copy that," I dipped my head.
    "Right," Price nodded and looked to the prepared team. "Yuri."
    Yuri moved to place a charge on the door and then backed up. "Ready."
    Through the breach, the doors shattered into slivers of wood. Yuri took point in the doorway as he aimed up on a man situated in the back right corner. Roach handled two to the closer right while Soap handled the left side. Price hit one guard charging forward while I tracked down the diving movement of Waraabe.
    The bastard moved toward a window, firing off a revolver as he moved. I lowered my barrel to his thigh and let a bullet rip. The target stumbled into a stack of small crates at the center of the room, letting out a cry of pain as his entourage fell to an end.
    I glared at the dark-skinned man as he scrambled back and up onto the staggered crates. The five of us fanned out into the room, Roach checking the computers set up in the front left corner and Price charging forward.
    "Gasmasks on."
    We slipped on the equipment as Soap tossed a canister of a chemical gas to Price. The experienced soldier popped it open, allowing the gas to seep out dangerously. Waraabe shifted in discomfort, holding up a palm of surrender.
    I eyed the canister in slight discomfort and frustration myself. Because of such a deadly weapon, too many people were attacked and killed in Europe. Makarov was behind it and, somehow, Waraabe was going to lead us closer to the terrorist.
    "Look familiar?" Price demanded.
    "No, no! Please," the man was begging and it was rather pathetic.
    "Where's Makarov?" Price pulled out an extra mask and taunted Waraabe with it. "Tell us and it's yours."
    "Our contact was a man named Volk!" Waraabe took a deep gasp, signaling the entrance of the gas into his lungs. "We never met Makarov!"
    Soap pressed forward, lifting his foot to press down onto the wound I inflicted earlier. Waraabe wiggled in pain, throwing his chin up to the ceiling as he hissed out in agony. "Where's this Volk? Time's running out, mate."
    "Paris!" Waraabe broke too easily. "He oversaw the delivery in Paris."
    Soap shared a glance with Price and then nodded. He turned and headed back for the exit of the room. Price threw the mask at Waraabe and, before I could protest, drew his Desert Eagle.
    "This is for the boys at Hereford."
    The single shot left Waraabe bloody and slumped against the crates. There was silence hanging over the room as Price stared at the lifeless body and then spun around to join Soap. Roach shot me a glance and then followed, leaving me to round up the rear after Yuri.
    I joined the team just outside as Price shrugged, as if shaking off a distant memory, and then communicated over comms. "Nikolai, Waraabe broke. We have what we need. Ready for exfil."

✧~✧~✧

It's been waaay too long since updating this and I apologize! Life offline has been absolutely crazy and testing every ounce of what I have. But, good news, I'm back. I missed writing too much. So, it's time to focus and finish this thing!
I hope y'all enjoyed! Vote and/or comment to show some support. I really appreciate it loves!
Here's to getting back into a regular routine again ;)