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

Chapter 13

    "Had a nice little swim did ya?" Roach joked, coming around to assist Yuri. 
    "You missed out," I responded, earning a chuckle from the younger soldier. 
    We went inside, where Price was prepared for a report from Yuri. He didn't say much toward me, yet I knew that's how he operated. Soap was at the top of the stairs, ready to take over care for me as Roach led me that direction. 
    "Look at you," Soap grunted. "Christ, lass." 
    "I'm fine!" I urged as he took over for Roach and led me to our quarters. 
    "Get some warm liquids," Soap ordered Roach, who disappeared to fulfill the need. "Get changed Sam." 
    I was mostly able to do it on my own, a little wobbly and confused with some aspects. Soap guided me into the softness of the bed, making sure my vitals were steady. He felt my forehead right as Roach entered again. 
    "You both are going soft," I muttered, drinking the warm tea Roach had managed to brew up. 
    "Just taking care of a comrade while we can," Roach mentioned, holding the mug for me once I was done. "You see a nurse around?" 
    "I could see you as one," I earned a glare of playfulness. "Oh yes, Roach in a skirt...that would be great." 
    "This hypothermia is really messing with your head," Roach grunted and then turned to exit. "Goodnight you two."
    "I'm already messed up there Roach," I chuckled as he shut the door behind him. 
    Soap was eyeing me carefully, his blue eyes searching for any signs of decreased health. I met his worried orbs, letting out a sigh of slight annoyance. My hand touched his and he gently gripped my fingers. 
    "This is why it's dangerous to have what we have," I cocked my chin his direction. "I've never seen you this worried in my life." 
    "Don't worry about me," Soap's voice was hard though his gaze wasn't. "Get some rest so you can be there with us on the next mission. We're heading out tomorrow." 
    "I'll be there," I swallowed, my body not sharing the same determined attitude. 
    Soap looked to the door. "You're lucky it's time for bed. Do you want extra warmth?" 
    "I'll never say no to that," I managed a smile as Soap stood and stripped off his shirt and shoes, leaving his pants for last. 
    He slid into bed next to me, the heat of his body causing me to hum in relief. The muscles in his arms enveloped my upper body as he hugged me close. My eyes flickered shut as I placed my cold fingertips onto his pectorals. I felt his lips touch the top of hair and then I was out like a burnt bulb. 

"Did our man talk?" 
    "They always talk. We got names, dates, locations. Volk gave us everything, even Fregata," Sandman's voice came through the set up communication device at the center of the table. 
    I peered at the screen of the laptop placed on the table too, watching video footage of convoys traveling in Prague. The others in the room were strictly focused on the screen and the conversation with Sandman; him and his team had captured Volk and managed to get him to give up vital information. 
    "He's meeting his top advisors six hours from now. Location is the Hotel Lustig. It's in the center of the city, near the old square," Sandman explained. "We have Tier One groups assigned to handle this, but I don't think they'll make it in time..."
    "We're on it," Price didn't hesitate. "I'll contact you when it's done." 
    He ended the call, looking to the map pasted to the wall behind Roach. The younger soldier turned and eyed the map too, locating the intel matching up. 
    "Makarov's council all together in the middle of a warzone?" Yuri was thoughtful. "Sounds convenient."
    "Overconfidence makes you careless," Price pinned a photo of the hotel to the map and drew two differing routes of action over the area of the city. "We'll infiltrate along two separate routes. Soap, you and Sam head for the church and provide over watch. Yuri and Roach, you'll split from them just before and take another post just north of them." 
    I shared a glance with Soap, nodding. "Copy that." 
    "The city's locked down tight. We'll need a back door," Roach mentioned, holding his chin in deep thought.
    "Leave that to me," Price held a gleam in his blue eyes, his hat adding the extra touch of hunger for the kill. 
    A tiny flame inside of me grew defensive thinking of the situation. Makarov being careless? I wasn't so sure it added up. He was never one to let his guard down nor never have a plan. If he looked careless to Price then that meant he was trying to. 
    Usually, I wouldn't have voiced my concerns. I would've put my head down and gone through the mission no matter what happened. However, results of that in the past had led to death of comrades and I refused to let anymore slip through. 
    "I don't trust this," I spoke up, causing Price and Soap to turn from planning, Roach and Yuri glancing up from collecting equipment. 
    "What part?" Roach cocked his head. 
    "Makarov," I looked a the map. "He always has a plan and no one ever really knows it. This...carelessness is something I don't trust. He's never been that way." 
    "Everyone makes mistakes," Price reminded. 
    "Not him," I shook my head. 
    From across the room I could see Yuri's eyes dip to the floor. His lower lip twitched, as if holding back a remark, and then sucked inward. When his eyes raised, he looked more determined. 
    "I think we're one step ahead of him this time," Roach's hazel eyes gleamed. "This is our chance Samantha." 
    I looked at the map again, studying the layout of the city's square. There were few possible routes and few chances anyone knew about the meeting. Perhaps for once we did have him. 
    "I've been doubtful in the past," I reminded, lifting my chin, "and look where things went. I'm telling you that something is off here. Makarov doesn't just let his guard down." 
    "Are you doubting the intel?" Price narrowed his eyes. 
    "No. I believe he'll be meeting his advisors, but he isn't as vulnerable as we're being led on." 
    "Sam," Soap gently broke into the conversation. "Not every mission has to follow the past. Maybe your feelings are—"
    "Don't you dare say my feeling are getting in the way," I snapped. "History has patterns that get repeated. I'm not about to watch them do so again." 
    "Then what?" Roach demanded, his voice hoarse. "You want to let this opportunity go? Makarov's throat is right under our boot Sam!" 
    I held my tongue. I could argue and dispute the mission all I wanted yet no one in the room would budge their motivation to complete it. I had the option of letting them go without me or sticking by their sides through the bullets. 
    The choice was obvious yet rather difficult to swallow. 
    "All right," I finally breathed. 
    Roach looked pleased as he went back to adjusting the settings on a pair of night vision goggles. My gaze shifted over to where Yuri had kept silent, his focus directed away from the conversation. I opened my mouth to press when Soap caught me. 
    "Sam, I'm going to need you to set up a few basic loadouts." 
    "Copy that," I murmured and moved off into the other room to obey. 
    I picked up a few suppressors fit for different weapons, beginning to build up five loadouts. Yuri entered shortly after I started, lifting a few extra weapons to help. 
    "Your hatred for Makarov runs deep," he observed. "Why?" 
    "He's caused a lot of turmoil for everyone under this roof," I stayed guarded. "Being his prisoner can also get to your head." 
    "He tortured you," it wasn't a question. 
    "My thigh," I motioned to the healed wound. "He would delay healing but also make sure I didn't go too far backward." 
    Yuri didn't say anything as he loaded a pistol. 
    "Then, when that didn't work, he used high dosages of drugs to try and get information out of me," I shook my head. "After I escaped he tried to turn me against you all...and it almost worked. So yes, Yuri, my hatred does run deep." 
    It didn't just fall to what he'd done to me either. Ghost's death was his doing too. Shepherd may not have gotten so caught up in what he did without the pressure Makarov had created. Without the war, Shepherd wouldn't have been so inclined to do what he did and, perhaps, more men—including Ghost—wouldn't have been lost. 
    "You seem to doubt the likelihood of your comrades surviving too," Yuri kept his voice low. 
    "Try having an entire team under your command fall apart before you," I grunted. "Some turned against us while others fell to their bullets." 
    "That won't happen here," Yuri didn't hesitate to assure me. "You know that." 
    "I know," I studied him for an extra long moment, watching his tattooed forearms flex as he finished up with a weapon. "Why do you fight against your own?" 
    "Not every Russian is a bad one," Yuri responded cooly. "And not every Russian has had the best connection with another Russian. I'm with this side till the end." 
    "You've proved that," I dipped my head and touched his tricep. "I'm glad you're with us Yuri."
    His brown eyes shifted to meet mine and then he nodded once. I released his arm, finding a piece of my internal bias shift. Yuri was one of us. It'd taken me an extra bit of time to have faith in that, but now he had my trust.
    "We're rollin' out in ten," Roach poked his head around the corner.
    "All right," I picked up my prepared loadout, checking the safety. "Let's go trap a rat."