Plan B

Plan B -P80-

"Everyone, up! We're at our destination." It was Kamarov. I opened my eyes and realized where exactly I had fallen asleep, my head resting on Soap's chest. As Lefty woke up, he came to the sudden realization that what he had been kissing this whole time was a dirty helicopter floor. He sprung ot his feet and started to whip his tounge.
Ginger complained about how her arms were sore, Termite was trying to ease his headach, which he wouldn't shut up about. Price was just easy to wake up, because he jolted ot his senses. Heatstroke realized she was resting on Ghost's shoulder and flushed. Ghost had no emotion about it, as far as I could tell. Gonzalo came to his feet and looked aorund, but settled when he realized it was just Kamarov. Jumpy this evening much?
As we came down the ramp and found ourselves at an American base, I had the sinking feeling this would be a long search. There had to be at least, a hundred guys here! No way, by any god given power, could we get all the imformation in a couple of days!
A man came up to us, his voice low and serious. "You must be the Task Force? I'm Coronal Marchell." Price's son would really get a kick outta this when we tell him. "Now, it's such a relief to see you made it. I'm sure General Brenite breifed you on what would be going on here?"
"Yes he did," Price answered. "So we're suppost to find the one leaking information."
"Good, well, I'll show you to you're sleeping quarters." He eyeballed everyone quickly and quietly told himself, "It's been a while since I've seen a woman here."
As we came down around the place, I couldn't help not see how the place was covered in snow. Remember those idiot recruits who were playing on the ice back at the barracks? Well stupidity isn't just there, some men were doing the same thing.
Soon, through Heatstroke lack of attention, she bumped straight into one of the Rangers. The man quickly apoligized, "Sorry, about that." He then looked up at her face, Heatstroke did the same. Both their faces awe struck for a moment. "Riley?"
"Greg?" She was at a loss of words.
Coronal Marachell turned and saw this, "I see you met Corporal Dunn?"
The two went on as if they didn't hear the older man. I knew that look. I knew it all to well. Then Heatstroke rung her arms around him, "Man, it's been SO long!"
Dunn nodded and replied, "I thought when General Shepard sent you with the Brits, I'd never see you again. It doesn't help when Allen also gets sent in, but dies the very next day. I thought you would be a goner."
Heatstroke smiled, "Yeah, well a lot had happened."
"Everyone, not kinding, everyone thought you were dead." He told her.
"I know that," Heatstroke hummed.
"It's really been a bit, you even talk like them now," He said, noting the rough accent she had gained from being around in Britian. "I mean, I know you grew up there and everything, but you stayed here for a few years."
"How could I ever forget," Heatstroke told him.
The rest of us were lost at this point, and finally I babbled, "H-Heatstroke? You know him?"
She let her grip on him fall and she turned to me, still a wide smile on her face. "Yeah, he was my boyfriend while I was in the Rangers."
Okay you think you know someone, and here they go hugging some random person. And it turns out that person was their boyfriend you were never, and I mean NEVER, told about. How do you react? I just stood there with my mouth slag. "He was your... boyfriend?"
"Yeah?" Heatstroke lowered her eyebrows. "Why are you acting so strange about this?"
"Gee, I wonder," I responded with seething sarcasim. "Well, I don't know. You never told me!"
"I didn't?" She gave this blank expression then sighed. "Sorry, must of slipped my mind."
Dunn looked at Heatstroke and joked, "And you got a callsign? How'd you get that?"
"Long story short, she was overheating in a jacket while we were in Afganistan." Ghost chuckled.
I could tell what he was thinking, probably thinking that sounded like some bonehead thing she would do. "People still call me the usual." He told her. "But, wow, I can't believe I'm actually seeing you again!"
"Same here." Heatstroke went back to hugging him. "In fact, there were times I thought you had died."
"Well I wonder why," Ghost sent a glare to Price.
The older Captain growled, "Not now, Ghost. I did what I did to help them out."
"Did what to help us out?" Dunn asked cluelessly.
Ghost stared at him hard through the orange lenses of his NEW sunglasses, he needed a replacement after Makarov smashing the last pair. "Well, he was the bonehead who lanched a nuke to create an EMP. I swear to god, he'll be the death of all of us."
"I did that so the Russian air support would be whipped outta the sky," Price grumbled.
"Whoa, wait, YOU launched that nuke?" Dunn stared bewildered at Price. "Damn it, I nearly got crushed by falling helicopters, catch a cold in the rain, get shot in the shoulder, and barely get out of Washington with my life!" His tone settled. "And somehow, that stupid move saved us from worse."
Price gave Ghost a teasing smile. "See, it helped."
Coronal Marchell then came in, "Uh, we still have you quarters to see to."
That caught everyone's attention and guess what, Dunn here discided to come along. As he and Heatstroke gittily talked and were catching up, I pantamimed to Soap of a gagging person. He chuckled about it. And soon we found out where we were staying. Very similiar to our first one, the metal frame and super think mattrases of the bunk beds were the same. And a room was on the far side of the room, which Coronal Marchell explained was a bathroom. Same set up here.
"Make yourselves comfortable I guess, not much gonna happen until tomorrow." He told us.
I was just getting ready for anyone to give me bullshite about my accent. And I swear, I can knock their teeth out.
Soon me, Soap, Ghost, and Hawk started to poke around. Letting our noobie recruits play with the noobie Privates on the ice, Price debating wheither he should go back to his handlebar mustashe, Nikolai and Kamarov talking about planes or whatever, Gonzalo talking to someone on his cellphone in Spainish, and Heatstroke and Dunn to get reaquanted.
Around the base was kinda like seeing a mirror of ours, but more troops here, and everyone had American accents instead of British, Australian, or Scottish. Just like a mirror of our base back home, except it felt like I was in some other demention.
As we were walking by the trucks, not that we were planning anything 'cause we weren't, Ghost tripped on something and landed on the ground. Well more like someone! The guy pulled his head out and glared at Ghost, "Hey! Watch it!"
Unlike Dunn, this guy was impatient and easily set off. Ghost turned himself around on the ground to face this guy, he looked like Gonzalo, except no scar on the side of his face, and missing a mustash. His hair was all buzzcut, I assume you know what that looks like. And his dark eyes, made darker by the shadow of the truck, were firce and unwelcoming.
"Sorry," Ghost shrugged. "Didn't see you down there."
This guy got the rest of himself out and looked over the truck agian, as if not hearing Ghost. Then his attention drew to a crocked panel which was weilded on. "Ah fuck, seriously? Sarge is gonna kill me." He groaned and tried to straighten it by attempting to force it to turn. Failing miserably. After five aggrivated minutes he sighed, giving up. "Hopeful he won't notice."
Ghost looked back at us with a shrug, and I gave him my typical 'don't ask me, cause I have not fucking clue' glances. As the guy turned to check the other side of the car Ghost finally asked, "What's wrong with you?"
The guy turned around in surprise and exclaimed, "Dude what the fuck? You're still here?"
"I'm only asking why you're trying to make everything so perfect." Ghost sighed. "You don't need to snap my head off for being mindful."
"Because my Sergeant will kill me, that's why!" He exclaimed and gave on last aggrivated punch to the sideways panel. "And if this stupid truck is less than perfect he'll chew me out!"
Ghost nodded in understanding glanced at the metal panel, "Well it's been bound to the car, no getting it off now."
This didn't ease the man, instead he cursed to himself and kicked a tire. But something else sent him to a stand still dead silence.
A man, a black guy, and no I'm not racist either, came and examined the truck quick. "Ramirez, why are some of these panels lopsided?"
The guy, Ramirez, stiffened and studdered out, "I- well- umm..."
"We need this trucks in the best of shape so this way we can assist in getting the rest of the civilians out. Why did you put this on wrong?"
"I- I didn't intend to, Sarge." He looked away and stared at anything but his commanding officer.
"Just fix it, Ramirez." He then added as he got closer to him. "Before I fix you."
Ramirez nodded nervously and the Sergeant left. Ghost breathed his question, "Who was he?"
"Sergeant Foley," He grumbled looked back at the stupid crocked panel which got him in trouble. "Apparently to him, I'm his stupid servent or whatever. This isn't right." He then jabbed his elbow to the panel and cursed under his breath, "Ramirez! Fix this truck! Ramirez! Throw away this bannana! Ramirez! Clean my ears! Ramirez! Believe it's not butter! Ramirez! Taste the fucking rainbow!"
"I'll take it he gets under your skin," Ghost came in.
"No really," He spat. "I'm just peachy. Couldn't be better. In fact the sky's farting rainbows and I see magical pixies everywhere."
"I sense sarcasim," Ghost pointed out. Of course it was the obvious.
"No shit Sherlock." He then sighed and banged his head on the panel, not that hard either. And by some freaking weirdo mirical, it tilted back into place. He stared at it for a long few moments then shouted, "OH SURE! NOW YOU CHOOSE TO BE STRAIGHT!!!!"
"I guess it doesn't like you or something." Ghost kindly mocked.
Ramirez didn't rebuttle to Ghost's comment, but instead gave the tire one last kick to prove his point and grumbled. After a moment he looked back at us and asked, "So I'm guessing you guys are the Task Force?"
Ghost nodded, "That's us." He held his hand out to shake Ramirez's.
"I've heard about you guys," Ramirez took Ghost's hand and was quick with it then continued, "Weren't you that guy who got like, eightteen freaking seconds in The Pit?"
"Sure was," Ghost agreed.
"Man, where the hell did you learn to move so fast?" Ramirez asked.
Ghost shrugged and came up with the quickest answer he could think of, "Lots of practice."
Ramirez studied the rest of us, "I'm aware of the mohawk guy." Soap shrugged in responce.
"I have a name you know," Soap reminded.
"I know, I didn't expect you not," Ramirez shrugged. "Just everyone called you that after you seriously bitch slapped the d boys. I mean that was very impressive."
Soap grinned and with little emotion replied, "I try."
"So what did you say your names were?" Ramirez asked us.
"People call me Ghost."
"Well I'm Captain MacTavish," Soap said. Way to be formal and kill it!
"I'm Hawk."
I was last, as usual. And so I sighed, "Scarab."
"Callsigns, eh?" He pondered for a moment, "Wait, don't you have a callsign?"
Soap gave him a 'do I have to really say' look and sighed, "Yeah, I'm Soap."
"Soap?" He laughed. "Why's that? You slip through enemies like it or something?"
"I only wish the reason why were that," He uttered. "Nevermind. I just don't think it's important right now."
"What, was it for something stupid?" Ramirez asked.
"Nah, just wasn't as good of a reason as some others." Soap sighed.
Ramirez shook his head and chuckled before going back to what he was talking about, "Well I guess I can tell Sergeant Asswhip that this stupid truck is done."
"Alright, hope you don't get chewed out I guess," Ghost put in.
Ramirez left and we all returned to the quarters. Where I barely sleeped at all, my being unused to this bed.

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A/N: Well we meet some of the Rangers. I know, I said I wouldn't involve them, but now the campainge is over and all. I thought that this would be a good thing to put in.

Le GASP!!! Heatstroke's boyfriend was Dunn?