"This is for the record: History is written by the victor. History is filled with liars. If he lives, and we die, his truth becomes written - and ours is lost. Shepherd will be a hero. Because all you need to change the world is one good lie and a river of blood. He's about to complete the greatest trick a liar ever played on history. His truth will be the truth. But only if he lives, and we die..."
That was the last "coherent" speech Former Task Force 141 Captain John "Soap" MacTavish has ever heard from his comrade Captain John Price. It was said that the sand and the rocks in the middle eastern land of Afghanistan was stained with thousands of years of warfare, being that that was holy land that was fought over dozens upon dozens of times. Whether it was the Israelis or the Soviets back in the day, or even the United States of America; blood has been shed countless times in that land. More so now with the global war between Russia and America with them taking the fight to Afghanistan.
But let's steer more away from that topic, the recent blood that has been shed on that sand hours ago was none other than MacTavish's. His blood flowed like a river from being impaled with his own knife right in his chest cavity. Ironically the favor was returned and another individual's blood was shed on that holy land, the traitorous LtGen. Shepherd. His mark in history won't be the desired ending that he yearned for, but it wasn't the 141's plan either.
Soap was mortally wounded, Price was pretty banged up, and now the three men plus the entire Task Force 141 were wanted international war criminals (Or rather what's left of the One-Four-One). Not the future that our heroes has planned for themselves. The mood inside of Nikolai's large Pave Low was very angsty as Soap laid on one of the cargo holds with his hand on his poorly bandaged wound and his eyes clenched shut. The Russian would continue to fly around the airspace keeping his hands steady but his eyes turned to look at his two comrades, Soap and Price.
"We'll be at the "spot" in an hour; I have some very valuable intel Price. Come over here, my friend!" Nikolai said as he pointed at the radar to show the British fellow what needs to be shown about the "place" he's taking them to, he won't like it. The 141 will have to say welcome to West Virginia in a couple of hours.
Price risen up from his seat which was not too far away from Soap so he can keep tabs on him. As the Captain walked over to Nikolai's side to see what he needed, Soap struggled to sit up just ever so slightly so he can see what was going on. The Scotsman cringed when he heard Price's voice echo throughout the 21 ton giant.
"Are you insane?! You've gone mad haven't you?" Price yelled down at his Russian companion, his eyes glaring daggers down into Nikolai's. "Price, listen to me--?!" Before he could finish Price had slammed his palm on the auto-pilot button and pulled on Nikolai's arm so they can face each other.
"You are not taking us to America! Are you trying to get us killed, 'cause if you do you're coming down with us!"
"John!" Nikolai replied, his face drained of color, "Please…listen to me my friend." The Russian added before yanking himself from Price's grip and getting back in the cockpit, there he pulled out some sheets and fliers from under his seat. One by one he handed them to Price and the Brit gave each sheet a small look before giving an unsure eye back down at Nikolai.
"There's a small resistance holding themselves down in some little town in West Virginia, near Toluca lake. From what I've been hearing…they are members of our beloved One-Four-One." When Nikolai told him this, Price was so baffled he had to sit down. To his knowledge, he had thought the Task Force 141 was either killed off or hunted down. Surprisingly it's the latter and some still had some fight in them to hold out a resistance against both the Russian forces, Shadow Company, and the whole United States Military looking for them. Before Price was about to say anything it was his turn to get cut off this time.
"Did you really think I'd throw you into the sharks like that, Captain Price? You must not know me that well." Nikolai said with a chuckle before turning his seat back to the control panel and pressed the auto-pilot button off so he can take control of the copter once again. With that said Price rolled his eyes and nodded off.
"Whatever you say, mate." The British Captain said as he stood up from his spot and leaned his back against the wall, he'd put his head down to allow himself some silence. The hum of the engines was like a lullaby to the remnants of the 141.
MacTavish saw the whole event right in front of him, without making a noise he slumped back down onto the cargo hold and thought to himself. 'Well what do you know…some are still alive and kicking. That's good to know…I just wish that was the same for Ghost and Roach.' The Captain thought as he remembered the recent lives lost because of Shepherd's betrayal, his best Lieutenant and his newest but brightest Sergeant all wiped out without a trace…or rather burnt up without a trace. Now he has two more skeletons to add into his closet, and their names are Simon Riley and Gary Sanderson.
A dull ache began to resonate in his chest, the memory of being stabbed by Shepherd made its way to surface, it did nothing except make the pain from the wound that much more profound. With a moan, MacTavish lowered his arms from their defensive position and fell back onto the bed. MacTavish writhed in pain, his fingers clutched the sheets for dear life as he fought back the urge to scream; if he was drugged prior to his awakening, he would love for them to be pumped back into his system. It hurt to breathe, the skin of his chest stretched everytime his lungs expanded and deflated, pressing his face into the pillow, MacTavish cursed quietly.
The ragged breathing had caught the attention of Price's quick beauty sleep to go on a shutdown and to quickly assist his friend. "Just breathe through it, Soap. You've survived worse than this," Price attempt at bedside manner almost made MacTavish laugh, but the throb of his chest made him think twice. 'Christ, this is awful'. Price thought at as he sat quietly in his chair across from him, watching as his friend worked through the pain. It wasn't too long till the pain had soothed him to sleep.
MacTavish woke with a start, body thrashing wildly beneath the sheets that trapped him. A pair of hands grabbed his wrists and attempted to push him back down. Opening his eyes, Soap was quick to disregard the haze of sleep and zeroed in on the face his opponent. The face was slow to come into focus, but if it had not been for the familiar outline of a Boonie hat, Soap would've continued to attack the man without hesitation.
"Soap, calm down! It's me, Price!" The sound of his old friend's cultured and raspy voice brought MacTavish to a halt. Blinking once cleared most of the sleep away, Price came into view, a rare show of concern as his current expression. Slowly, the events of the past seven days hit MacTavish like a blast of cold water, killing the adrenaline pumping through his system. What did hit him though was the cold breeze of an open Pave Low hangar, tilting his head he looked to the hangar and saw a glimpse of Nikolai brandishing an AK-47 and securing the area around the large heli. It was hard to see him though because of the thick fog outside of the Pave Low.
Most likely making sure nobody was around their LZ, turning his head back at his former superior. There was a quiet sigh of frustration from Soap; Price pinched the bridge of his nose in mild relief. "You alright, mate?"
"How long have I been out?" MacTavish said, avoiding the question.
"Pretty much the whole flight, I'd have to estimate a good couple hours." Price answered, stretching in the chair. MacTavish groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. His body felt like it weighed a ton, he wasn't sure how he managed to move so much earlier. "Are we in West Virginia yet?" MacTavish said warily, unclenching his hands from the sheets.
Price looking a little bit flustered at the fact he knew that they were heading or rather in Toluca County now kind of shifted in his chair a bit. "How did you--?!" Interrupted by Nikolai who ran into the helicopter to give his friends a little SitRep on what exactly is going on outside.
"It's clear! But I don't get it though...for a place that is supposed to be occupied by either the Russian Army and or the U.S. Army. It's a ghost town out there." Nikolai said as he slung the AK around his shoulder. Price stood up from his chair and went over to the supply crates, which was where Nikolai kept some armory for them. As he began to pick up a modified M4A1 and a couple of pieces of equipment from the SOPMOD attaché case, Nikolai approached him from behind.
"I also got a fix on where the resistance is, they're about 10 klicks towards the Happy Burger on Levin St. So we should make haste, Captain Price. The Russian's aren't the only ones we should be worrying about." He said as he saw Price attaching a Holographic sight on top of the railing the rifle, a heartbeat sensor onto the side of it, and a silencer to finish off its charm.
"You don't have to tell me twice, mate. Let's get a move on." Price said as he slung the M4 around his shoulder and took out an M16A4 that was already customized with a silencer, heartbeat sensor, and a Holographic sight from the chest. "Nikolai, help me pick up Soap." He said as he shouldered the other rifle onto his other shoulder, the other rifle is obviously for Soap once they need him to give some covering fire when needed.
The Russian nodded and they both walked over to Soap, he lifted his arms up slowly for the two to lift him up. They did so and now the three Task Force 141 troopers: One Former Spetsnaz Senior Sergeant and two Special Air Service/Task Force officers now on their own. As the men walked out of the Pave Low with a struggling wounded on their hands they looked around the snowy destruction known as Silent Hill.
"We've got a lot of ground to cover…" Price said to himself as they continued to walk through the ruins of the big apple. Nikolai nodded as they continued to walk with Soap on their arms. MacTavish looked up at the sky, the snowy atmosphere, the ghost town like area, it all gave the wounded Captain the creeps. A snowflake fell on the Scotsman's nose and it melted instantly.
"Hey mates...was it snowing in Afghanistan when we left?" Soap asked, Price looked over at his comrade and either Soap really thought because it's January it should snow everywhere or that he really was banged up more then he thought.
"No, Soap....it wasn't. But I'll tell ya one thing though. It isn't just snow that's falling." Price said as he also looked up at the sky.
Nikolai used his other hand in response to see what else was falling, just to know what Price was talking about. Feeling a supposed snowflake fall onto his gloved hand he licked it since it didn't melt right away. The Russian's face cringed upon knowing what he just licked up, with a hint of disgust in his tone he answered to the two conversing.
"It's ashes, my friends. Snow and Ash rain down upon us..." Both Price and Soap turned to Nikolai who said this, this town was getting weirder and weirder with each step.
x--Devil May Cry
Author's note: Wow...it really has been so long since I wrote something. I had the idea so I decided to run with it. Any thoughts? Any suggestions? Read and review! Thank you!!!