Bravo Six: A Call of Duty fan fiction (OLD)

Chapter 2: Crew Expendable

"Praise the Lord and pass the ammunition!" Lieutenant Howell Maurice Forgy

   Heavy rains lashed the sides of the helicopter, deep breaths of wind whistling and wincing as they were cut by the rotor blade. A vivid crack of lightning split the dark sky and illuminated the faces aboard. Jessica looked across at Price, whose silhouette was outlined by the faint orange butt of his cigar, and Soap sitting beside him with glowing intensity in his blue eyes. She turned her attention down toward a ship rocking in the waves that hungrily lapped at her flanks, begging for her crew and cargo to spill over into their depths as she maintained her rigid composure.

   Price flicked his cigar out the door as they came near and pulled a gas mask over his face. "Let's go," he said, pushing a rappelling rope to the deck. He led the descent, taking all but Gaz, Wolcroft, and Griffin with him. They all landed on the upper deck of the pilothouse, looking in at a small group of men, all of whom seemed unaware of the soldiers lurking just outside.

   One of the crew looked up briefly, then did a double-take when he recognized the outline of several men contrasting a flash of lightning behind them. "Weapons free." Bullets broke the glass windows, dropping all of the men inside. Quick and clean. Perfect kills. "Gaz, stay in the bird until further notice." said Price as they continued to scour the ship.

   Jess rounded a corner into the cabin and listened to a drunken man staggering down the hall, talking out loud in Russian. He sounded friendly at first but was very quickly overtaken by confusion and wariness. His loud, uneasy chatter would certainly alert anyone else awake in the cabin. He only made a gagging noise as bullets tore his shirt into his chest. Thankfully, no screams; the alcohol must have killed his nerves. 

   Further down the corridor, Jessica stopped at a room with a single bunk where two men slept quietly. "Galaxy, do it," Price instructed quietly, keeping an eye over her shoulder.

   She drew a knife and stepped inside. Grasping the mouth of the first man, she cut his throat, then climbed to the top bunk. The man on top stirred at the sound of the bedframe creaking and opened his eyes. He wasn't able to make a sound before she shoved the knife through his neck just under his chin and she covered his face with a hand, muffling his frantic whimpering, and his head rolled to the side, pupils dilating.

   "Sweet dreams. Move up." said Price to the group.

   Jessica dropped from the bunk to the floor as lightly as possible and rejoined her team outside. The rain spattered the lenses of her mask and she shook her head to clear her vision. Someone pointed out four sentries roving the upper deck and she crouched, keeping her eyes high. The team wove through the labyrinth of shipping containers until they were close enough for a clear shot, and they dropped them all. "Clear," she said into the com.

   "Copy, regroup on me," said Price.

   As she started for Price's position, she caught a swift movement beside her. Gaz came loping up to the team, only distinguishable by the cap on his head. "About time you caught up, Lieutenant," she jeered.

   He shot what must have been a devilish grin at her and scoffed. "Had to let you have some fun, didn't I?" he said, looking at the blood on her gloves. "That drink do you some good last night?"

   She chuckled. "Yeah, I think so. Doubt I'll need another one for a bit."

   Gaz chuckled. "I give you 'til the end of this mission to change your mind."

   "You asking me out, Lieutenant?" she teased. "I thought you gave MacTavish a ration of crap for doing that yesterday..."

   "I'm saying everyone needs a drink after their first mission," he replied, giving her shoulder a shove. "It's ceremonial."