More Than Human

Chapter 85: The Storm: Part 1

"How we looking up there, Price?" Ghost asked into comms.

"Quiet as the dead, or soon to be anyway." Price told him, "Don't have eyes on any of them, they must be inside. We'll need to draw Graves out. Alejandro?"

"Yessir." Alejandro confirmed, as Rudy and König pushed their raft onto the shore of the beach. He leaned over and ruffled the wet mop of hair on Rodolfo's head, "You're up, amor. Let's hear ya sing."

Rudy nodded and motioned for them to plug their ears.

"Ears." Alejandro told the radio.

Price had fixed them up with ear plugs that he had enchanted. They would block out any effects of Rudy's compulsion. When he began his song, it sounded muffled to their ears. It made them all feel a bit floaty, but fortunately not driven to take a nosedive of the cliffs.

They waited a few minutes, but no phoenix came bursting out of the building as they had hoped. Or two asshole humans for that matter.

"Price?" Soap asked from their position.

"Maybe no one's home." Gaz murmured.

"Permission to breach the lighthouse, Sir?" Ghost asked.

Price huffed. On one hand, if they weren't inside then they would be sitting here forever waiting for nothing. On the other hand, if they were inside, they had clearly taken measures to prevent being affected by Rudy's song, and probably plenty of their other abilities. That could mean silver weapons for Soap, extra lights to decrease Ghost's shadows, and a hell of a lot of other things that could trip them up.

"I hate to send you boys in blind." He said finally.

"But?" Soap asked.

"But you have permission to breach. Be fucking careful."

"Copy, Sir." Ghost looked to Soap.

"You and me, LT. Just like old times." He grinned.

"Just like all times, Sergeant." He rolled his eyes lightly, "On me. Stay close."

They crept out of their position on the treeline and made their way toward the lighthouse, keeping themselves low to the ground. There was a window that was cracked and peeking through it revealed an empty room. Empty except for all of the fucking lamps scattered about. Looked like Roach had been the one to decorate it for christ's sake. Ghost gave Soap a little boost with his knee before climbing in through the window himself.

It was unnaturally quiet.

"You think it's magic?" Soap whispered.

"Must be. No other way they could get around Rudy's song." Ghost replied, thinking for a moment before speaking to Price, "We're inside. Think the place is enchanted. Dead quiet in here. Doubt they heard Rodolfo."

"Fuck." Price grunted, "They in there?"

"Not sure yet, Captain. We'll look and try to drive them outside." Ghost turned back to Soap, "My shadows won't be much use with all of these lights about. We need to-!"

Both of their heads snapped to the side in time to see Makarov readying a gun trained on Soap. Ghost shoved Soap out of the way, earning him a bullet to the shoulder that knocked him back with a grunt. Soap snarled and launched himself at the man, claws and teeth outstretched. Before he could reach him he was being jabbed in the neck by one of those cursed electric batons, making him writhe on the ground. He managed to crack an eye open to find Shepherd wielding it.

"These really are quite effective." He commented causally toward Makarov.

"Can't go wrong with a taser, General." The other man replied.

Soap huffed a breath of relief when Ghost flashed past him, tackling Shepherd to the ground. He sat up quickly to resume his attack on Makarov for shooting his partner. The terrorist let out a sharp whistle and suddenly something hot and blinding was pushing him back down with searing hands around his throat.

Graves.

"Pleasure seeing you again, MacTavish." he grinned, eyes flashing.

Soap sputtered for a moment, unable to get a breath in before the phoenix was getting yanked off of him. He sat up, coughing and watched Ghost tussle with the man for a moment.

Soap quickly spoke into the radio through coughs, "G-gonna need some help in here!"

Soap, Shepherd, and Makarov all flinched when Graves reeled back and ran at Simon, grabbing under his arms and taking flight, burning right through the ceiling and going straight up.

"Simon!" Soap didn't have a chance to come up with a plan to help him before Makarov began to round on him again.

Above, Graves kept flying up. His hands burned Ghost's skin beneath his gear and he thrashed around a bit, quickly realizing he should stop doing that if he didn't want a one way ticket to being dropped. He did his best to reach up and hold onto the man.

"Makarov said killing a vampire was tricky." That stupid southern accent sounded grating and garbled through fire, "Wonder if you'll bounce."

Then he was letting go and wiggling out of Ghost's grip. Then Ghost was falling, the ground slowly getting larger beneath him. He only had a moment to consider that he was about to be breaking his promise to Johnny when something careened up into him, desperately trying to slow his fall.

Roach.

He was frantically grabbing and pulling at Simon's clothes and vest. But Ghost was a lot bigger and falling at high speeds. He managed to slow him down a bit, but Ghost still went skidding into the grass, hard. Roach couldn't tell if he was breathing, but he was lying still and that sparked something in him.

He took off again quickly, heading straight for Graves. The man attempted to hurl flames at him but he swiftly dodged the attacks, going straight for the man himself. They tussled in the air, each hit Roach landed on the man seemed to make him angrier, burn a little hotter against his hands. Good. The more energy he used now, the less stamina he would have later.

A searing hand suddenly caught his wing and tugged making Roach let out a pained hiss.

"Moths always get themselves burned by a flame." Graves taunted as he watched Roach's soft wing catch.

Roach was quickly sent tumbling himself. He flailed in the air, desperately not wanting to meet the fate he had narrowly prevented Ghost from. A stain on the hard ground. Like a bug hitting a windshield at top speeds.

Then he was being caught. It was extremely clumsy and wonky, but he squeaked as Gaz wrapped his arms around his middle.

"Gotcha, Bug!" He told him, flapping his leathery wings as hard as he could. He cradled the back of Roach's head, but cursed at the small flame from his wing began to lick at his own hyper flammable skin. He needed to put them both out, now. He glanced at the ocean and got a little idea in his head.

"Hang on for me, Roach." Then they were taking a nosedive for the water, Roach squeezed him tighter. At the last second Gaz re-extended his wings so they wouldn't go careening into the water as if it were cement. They landed softly, flames effectively doused. But Roach's wings were growing heavy with absorbed moisture. Coupled with both of their sets of gear had them being weighed down. Gaz was fighting to keep their heads above the salty water.

He prayed that his radio still worked when he spoke into it, "In the water!"

It was all he was able to get out before he choked on some of said water, making him sputter. He began to lose his grip on Roach, and desperately tried to hang on. They were both beginning to sink like rocks.

Their savior came in the form of a set of massive tentacles wrapping around their torsos and dragging them back up. König swiftly swam them to the cliff side and began using a few other tentacles to climb up the rocks with them. Horangi flew up after them.