Vente y Nueve: Part III
Day 1; November 8, 2014
Location: Some diner in Manila.
MacTavish was having difficulty picking his breakfast at a local eatery. There were just too many for him to choose from: adobo, beef jerky with eggs, and barbecue on a stick. Lucky for him, there was no one waiting behind him. After fifteen hardcore badass minutes of testing the proprietor's patience, MacTavish decided to go for the adobo.
"Took you long enough..." the lady muttered in her native tounge.
The Scotsman got his breakfast and headed for the table his team is in. Roach was eating some omelettes; a maskless Ghost was eating some beef jerky, and Meat was chowing down on the barbecue. No one said a single word for the next few minutes; they just chewed and chewed and chewed.
"Man, this stuff is delicious." Meat said.
"Too right, mate." replied Soap and Ghost.
Roach was silent; his eyes fixed onto the little TV the little eatery has. A morning news program was on, showcasing some slightly more upbeat news than the one's they've watched the previous night. MacTavish noticed this and asked "What are they saying, Roach?"
The Welshman looked at his Captain, then back to the TV; "Nothing that we should be concerned of, sir." he replied, taking another bite at his omelette "There's no news concerning our target...yet..."
Meat and Ghost already finished their meals and were now craving for something cold. That was when both men saw a street ice cream vendor; Ghost glanced at Meat and immediately deduced that the loonie had plans on buying the treat. 'I gotta hand it to him, though,' Ghost thought 'he may be a real lunatic, but at least he does his job pretty damn well...' The American got up and walked toward the vendor.
"Meat! Where the hell are you going?" MacTavish asked.
"I'm gonna buy some ice cream, sir! I'll be right back!"
Ghost sighed, got up, and told MacTavish that he'll be buying a couple of drinks. "No liquor, Ghost." MacTavish warned "We can't be smellin' like we had a bachelor party when we meet Cpt. Guevarra a few hours from now." Riley nodded. "I swear, Meat is like a kid sometimes..." MacTavish muttered to Roach, who chuckled in response.
A certain amount of time later, Meat and Ghost came back, Soap and Roach finished up, and all left. They went back to the safehouse to ready up; MacTavish thought it'd be imperative that they pack at least some firepower, due to their habit of seemingly attracting armed groups of men, as well as a phrasebook. "In case..." MacTavish says.
But really, in a country like this, would they even need that?
In the end, MacTavish brought with him an M1911, some flashbangs, blank paper, and a knife, while Ghost and the rest of the San V trio packed the same stuff they used in the incident. They didn't bring any rifles...yet. The four hailed a tricycle and set course for Luneta Park.
1000 hours. Cpt. Guevarra's watch said so. The 38-year old Captain kept pacing around, occasionally glancing here and there for any sign of MacTavish and his team. No sign of them, yet. Just a crowd going about their daily lives. With him were three Scout Rangers, all uniformed and armed. That was then he felt a hand on his left shoulder. Without hesitation, he pulled out his .45, spun around and aimed for the tarantado who did that.
All he saw was a chuckling MacTavish.
"Captain! You shouldn't have done that!"
"Sorry, mate! Just decided to mess with ye! Come on, get us up to speed with...whatever you're planning."
Guevarra let out a short "Hmm," before motioning MacTavish to come closer. He produced a map, and set it on his right leg. "Alright, Captain. Intel says Kravchenko is planning to assault Luneta Park. The problem is, we don't know where. That's why I've had you come here today." The Filipino took out a blue pentel pen and started to draw circles on various positions on the map, "Your men will go undercover and wait at these positions. My men will stand guard; make sure nothing happens to the landmark." he says, pointing to the statue of Jose Rizal.
Ghost raises his hand; "So if our man, Kravchenko, decides to show his head, we'll follow 'im while you stay here?" he asks.
"Precisely. This is your operation, right? Don't worry, the police are on your side. They'll try to block Kravchenko's path..."
Ghost shrugs; "Well, that's good enough for me, sir."
As the joint spec-ops team were laying down their plans, a shady bastard in a red 1994 Elantra was setting another one in motion. He looked to be in his late forties; with a balding head and a goatee. He brings his cellphone close to his head and says "Do it." to the other one on the line. A certain distance away, a young man wearing a black jacket and gray shirt received the man's orders. The young one looked around to see if all his companions are in place. They were. They gave each other quick nods before the blackjacket boy walked to the statue at a casual pace.
No one paid attention to him; only to their personal woes. He moved through the crowd like a spectre; a spirit no one either sees or cares about. His intent: to spread chaos. One of Captain Guevarra's men barely notices the boy. When he was sure that he would go on undetected, the boy unzipped his jacket and flashed a load of bombs at the unsuspecting crowd. The Scout Rangers, who once ignored the young lad, were now treating him as if he were the bane of the earth. Manila's reckoning, so to speak.
The lad pulls out a detonator...
"CAPTAIN MACTAVISH, GET DOWN!"
...raises it near his head...
"GOMEZ! GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE!"
...and presses the fated button.
The explosion knocks MacTavish and the others back hard. Unfortunately, the attack took the lives of one Scout Ranger and one Honor Guard charged with protecting the monument. The surviving soldiers then heard gunshots, making them draw their weaponry. Since their Filipino counterparts were packing high-powered rifles and they only pistols, MacTavish dashed for the remains of their fallen comrades. An M1 Garand and a PVAR rifle. This should do it...
"Ghost! Roach! Catch!" MacTavish tossed the weapons to both men, who promptly put them to good use. Upon closer inspection, the terrorists were also packing explosives underneath their jackets. Soap levelled the pistol he used to kill Zakhaev on the platoon-sized contingent attacking the monument. MacTavish then found Meat taking cover behind and overturned fish ball cart, motioning for him to take cover. The terrorists were armed with submachine guns, but were nonetheless doing a good job of keeping them down. This went on for a few seconds more until the police intervened.
"Good, the police are distracting them!" MacTavish exclaimed "Ghost, take Roach and Meat and flank these bastards' left!"
"Men, keep them suppressed! Lt. Riley is trying to flank them! Pop smoke if you have to!" Cpt. Guevarra ordered.
By now, any terrorist stupid enough to stick his head up were either shot down by the Scout Ranger's bullets or were shot down by the cops. With all their attention focused on the cops, their left flank is sticking out like a giant "Kick Me!" sign. The stupid terrorists didn't even notice Ghost, Roach and Meat practically strolling toward them. "Right, mates. Let's top these bastards and get away quick." Ghost said "There's a chance they might be carrying Dead Man's Switches..." Roach and Meat nodded. Soon, they were behind the terror platoon. Ghost levelled his Garand; Roach aimed his PVAR; and Meat pointed his P99 at the bad guys, waiting for the golden order.
The firefight turned into an all-out massacre. The terrorists stood no chance! The San V trio picked them off in record time; falling back once they saw the red lights under their targets' jackets. Before the Filipino EOD teams got hold of the terrorists, the dead bodies exploded into several chunks of meat, flying round the monument. The San V trio just walked away as the fireball engulfed the bodies.
MacTavish got up from his hiding spot and ran his hand through his mohawk. "Fuckin' shockwave gonna make me puke; great going, mate!" The Scot holsters his pistol and tells Ghost and Roach to return their "borrowed" weapons. Both men laid the guns down next to the corpses of the fallen Filipino soldiers.
A couple of dozen minutes later, MacTavish and Guevarra were having a discussion next to a Philippine military armored vehicle. The site has already been swarmed by news reporters eager to get a slice of the story. That is why both men fell back to where they are now: near the road and away from the scene of the crime. "Well, it could've been worse..." MacTavish said before drinking some coffee "More civilians could've died; we might've been killed; Ghost could've failed..."
"Let's not think about "what could have been" and focus on what already is, Captain." Guevarra replied. "Where are your men?"
"Dunno," answered MacTavish "must be raiding some local Dunkin' Donuts branch..."
Both of them laughed. Just then, Guevarra received a message written in paper from a young soldier. The Scotsman eyed his counterpart with curiosity, eager to know the message's contents. He could see Guevarra's expression turn from curious, to intrigued, to urgent. "Dios ko...Captain! We'd better head back to base. I believe we've just got a fix on Kravchenko!"
"What about Riley and the others?" Soap asked as he boarded the vehicle.
"Tell them to head for these coordinates." The Scout Ranger handed the message to MacTavish, who promptly texted the coordinates to Ghost and his team.
"Let's hope this "fix" is worth it..."
Someplace away from all the commotion, the red Elantra parked near a bakery frequented by a lot of Manila's residents. The bald man inside took a minute to assess the situation before whipping out his cell phone. "Hello, Ramon?" he asks.
"Maghanda na kayo, may bisita tayo! (Ready yourselves, we have visitors!)"
"Yung mga 'Kano, nandiyan na? (The Americans, are they there?)"
"Hindi ko alam! Basta lang, maghanda kayo! Mag-uusap tayo pagdating ko diyan... (I don't know! Just get ready! We'll talk later when I get there...)"
And just like that, the call ended. Kravchenko didn't think that the 141 would be after his neck this soon. Anger welled up inside him now. He already has the Filipinos after him, and now the West? Well, all that's left now is to make a final stand.
But wait...what about Makarov?
He could just escape the country...Yes! That's a good plan! Escape the country and find a way back to Russia! Or Kravchenko could just stand and fight...
He just sat there, contemplating his next move. Unfortunately for him, the man was unaware of who was watching him.
A few meters away, two cops were eying the red car. One of them held up the walkie-talkie close to his mouth and said:
"Sir, we've found him..."
Right, so that was the third chapter. I dunno when I'll update this story, so keep your eyes peeled! It may arrive tomorrow, or in November. This is 298, signing off