Blood, Iron, and Old Friends

The deafening roar of the plane's engines drowned out the noise of two individuals loading rounds into a mortar. The engine itself rumbled like a fierce beast, eagerly awaiting to engulf the entire sky.

"Loaders, rounds in the can," commanded Graves with a loud and authoritative voice, breaking through the noise and urging the two men to quicken their work.

"Yes, Commander," one of the men quickly responded.

"Navigation, set a heading for that compound," Graves ordered, briskly inspecting the operation.

"Fire officer, keep an eye on the hot switch. We're just getting started here," Graves added, pointing to the crucial switch.

"Pilot, you have control; once on station, circle the target; bring us 'round," Graves instructed as he approached a monitor, leaning beside the operator handling communications.

"Communications, get me General Shepard."

"Roger, stand by," the communications officer replied, dialing Shepard.

"Shepard's up, sir," came the report.

Graves took the microphone and initiated a conversation with Shepard.

"Gold Eagle Actual, this is Shadow-1, how copy?"

"Loud and clear, Shadow-1, send traffic," Shepard's voice responded through the communication.

"Had to bail your boys and girls out, luckily they got friends in high places," Graves stated, attempting a pun that fell flat but that didn't bother him.

"That's what you're there for. Tell me somethin' good."

"We got a hit on Zayani, approaching the target now. Hope he doesn't slip away again. Don't want another Osama, do we?"

"No, we do not. Report back when Hassan's in the bag."

"Roger that. All shadows, listen up! These guys on the ground, Mexican Special Forces, 141, they are your brothers now, treat 'em like your own, and let's get this done, yeah?" Graves' booming voice resonated throughout the plane, capturing the attention of all the soldiers present.

"Yup-yup!" They all shouted in unison, filling the plane with affirmation.

"Alright! Phantom, this is Shadow-1, orbiting the compound now, standing by for visual. One of my Shadows is down there; you guys treat 'em well; he's one of the best I've got," Graves concluded.

The truck pulled up next to a village. This was it, the coordinates Graves had sent. To the right of where the truck parked, a large shed with supplies, sandbags, and a hay bale caught their attention.

"Shadow-1, Bravo 0-7, we'll mark our position with an IR laser, over," Ghost communicated.

"Roger that, 0-7," Graves replied.

They all disembarked from the vehicle, weapons at the ready.

"How do we find 'em?" Soap asked, scanning for hostiles and then moving forward with the rest of the team.

"Armed guard, cartel protection," Alejandro responded, cautiously advancing to the cobblestone road while the team took cover near a cyan semi-truck and a white and red trailer.

"Copy that, Lieutenant," N acknowledged, glancing at J, who was leisurely cleaning her rifle, seemingly unfazed by everything. God, what was happening with him? First, these blackouts, and now his attitude change--

"N, mark us," Ghost interrupted his train of thought, prompting N to nod and wave the marking device up into the sky.

"Shadow-1, we are east of the compound, position is marked," J added.

The plane in question soared overhead, cutting through the fog and defying the wind, its engine's exhaust releasing its own mist.

"Off the trigger," the pilot instructed, circling around the place N had marked.

"Copy, friendlies are marked with IR laser, confirm visual," the NAV officer inquired.

"Copy visual," the TV operator replied, zeroing in on N waving the marking device.

"0-7, your call," Graves stated.

"Shadow-1, be advised, Hassan is moving with an armed guard. Where's your trooper?" Ghost asked, looking around to spot Graves' soldier.

"Oh, he's there. Check south," Graves responded nonchalantly.

Ghost swiftly turned to look for the trooper, and to his surprise, he was a...

Woman?

No, he was male. He had pink, short-length hair, violet eyes, and was clad in all-black combat gear with black cargo pants and combat boots. He leaned against the truck, displaying a neutral expression on his face, as he made direct eye contact with Ghost.

"Do you see him?" Graves asked.

"Yeah, he's a quiet one, I'll give 'im that," Ghost answered. "You cover the external, I'll clear the buildings. How copy?"

"0-7, good copy, armed guard. We'll secure the area so you boys and girls can move in, stand by," Graves added.

"Oi! Is that you, Johnny?" Astolfo called out, looking in Soap's direction. His voice now sounded much more like that of a man his age, rather than feminine.

Soap whirled around to see Astolfo leaning on the truck, a smirk on his face. He straightened up and walked over to greet Soap with a nostalgic smile, and they shook hands and embraced.

"Astolfo? God damn, where have you been?" Soap asked, sharing a moment of nostalgia as they conversed.

"Places," Astolfo replied with a fanged smile, as the two stepped back.

"You two know each other?" N inquired.

"We go way back, me and this bastard," Soap said, nudging Astolfo, prompting him to roll his eyes with a smile. "We'll catch up later, we got a job to do; MacTavish."

"TV, scan for targets with an armed guard, let's find this sumbitch." Graves said.

The TV operator zeroed in on three men, south of the stables, going into a pickup truck.

"No guards, no weapons, not Hassan." Graves denied.

"Shadow-1, truck leaving the stables, movin' westwards." Astolfo relayed.

"TV, track that truck." Graves ordered, as the truck turned southwest, going along a dirt road.

"Truck moving southwest, along the dirt road." The NAV officer relayed, keeping his watch on the truck. "Got unknowns ahead of 'em."

The truck enters a field, following the dirt road to a barn.

"No weapons, no guards." The NAV officer relayed, but the truck stopped at the road.

"Shadow-1, we got targets at the greenhouse to our northwest; roping now." J said.

"What's the call?" Graves asked.

"We go in, guns blazin' hope he squirts, lock 'em up from there." Soap stated.

"Graves, you're cleared hot to engage external. We'll clear the buildings when secure." N said.

"2-7, copy that. Keep your heads down, people." Graves warned.

"All Shadows, you are clear to engage armed personnel only. DO NOT FIRE ON THE BUILDINGS." Graves instructed.

"Copy, armed personnel only." Astolfo repeated, his chipper tone betraying the severity of the situation.

Sounds of affirmation filled the comms channel.

"Use 25 mike-mike to limit collateral." Graves added.

"Let's make some music."

The TV operator unleashed 30 25mm rounds onto the men patrolling the area, killing around a quarter of them.

"All Shadows, rounds away." The TV operator informed.

"Good shots." Astolfo said, watching the scene unfold. "You got them!" He added, his overly optimistic tone kicking in full swing.

The remaining force was sent into a panic, each one rushing for cover, but each and every one of them were massacred by bullets raining from the heavens, each shot tearing them all apart in a gruesome show.

"Specter 9-7, any movement in the area?"

"Negative, they're all gone." Astolfo replied.

"2-7, all visible targets are down, over." Graves informed.

"Shadow-1, copy that. We'll be clearing the stables first; roping now."

"Tally target." The TV operator said.

"0-7, your mark. You're clear to proceed." Graves said, giving the 'go ahead'.

"Shadow-1, we're moving in. The target squeals, let us know." Ghost said.

"Shadow-1 copies." Graves replied.

"Soap, N, freeze down the right side." J said.

"Aye."

"Sure."

The duo took the right side, and the others went for the left, as they all assumed cover near the entrance to the stables.

"Breaching..." J said, as an explosion was heard; then screaming.

"Get down!" Astolfo shouts.

"[This is Las Almas territory, motherfuckers!]" One of the cartel members scream.

"[Shit!]" Alejandro curses. The only thing the NAV and TV operator hears is gunshots.

Then about 5 minutes later, a child and his mother runs out of the stables, as Astolfo shoots down another escaping cartel member.

"Careful there, 9-7, we got a woman and kid there; check fire." The FCO says.

"Unknowns exiting the stable right now, watch for squirters." The NAV officer said.

"Scan for Hassan." Graves pressed, his tone very urgent.

"Reloading, got a visual?" Soap chimed.

"Got armed personnel on the other side." The NAV officer stated, watching the men sprint to the truck.

"X-ray down!" N shouted.

"Rog', keep fire clear of civilians." Graves added.

"Graves, negative on Hassan, we got a dry hole!" J relayed, as the sound of multiple engines stopping caught everyone's ear.

"More of them approaching from the south." The TV operator said.

"Enemy personnel moving in on the stables." The NAV officer informed, as the men clambered out of the trucks, rushing past hay bales and jumping over short fences.

"Copy that, Ghost, J; need you all out of the building move north now." Graves ordered, his voice raising an octave.

"Yes sir." J obeyed without question, moving out of the stables and towards N and Soap with Ghost, Alejandro, and Astolfo in tow.

"Bring it down, we're clear!" Astolfo shouted.

"9-7, copy; danger close." Graves replied, and like the pillar of fire from Elijah's time, an LTM rocket hissed down, hitting the stables, destroying it and taking the reinforcements with it in a blaze.

"Shadow-1, good shots." Alejandro said, as the team turned west.

"Pushing westward to the greenhouse." Alejandro said, spotting several armed personnel in cover in the greenhouse right across from the smoke and rubble.

"All stations, there's armed personnel in the greenhouse." Graves stated, as the team made their way to the greenhouse, just across the road from the rubble that used to be the stables.

"Check fire, Hassan could be inside!" Soap called.

"Contact!" Astolfo called.

"TV, get us a visual inside of the building." Graves said, frustration evident in his voice. He was tired of Hassan slipping through his fingers.

"Affirmative, no visual on the target; appears to be armed personnel only." This revelation only increased Graves' frustration, but he took a deep breath; trying to calm himself down.

"Ghost, keep your men back; we're fixin' to engage the greenhouse." Graves said.

"Solid copy!" Ghost replied.

"TV, you're cleared hot to throw stones at this glass house." Graves said.

The TV operator sent off a 40mm, and it struck true blasting the greenhouse to smithereens.

"Good effect on target, we are moving up." Ghost said.

"Roger, 0-7." Graves replied, a candid frustration still laced in his tone.

The team moved to the greenhouse rubble, Astolfo going into the greenhouse (or what was left of it) to check for survivors. Only to find one man wailing in pain, his top half obliterated, the others, only legs or an arm remainded.

"Jesus, these guys are fucked." Astolfo murmured, his violet eyes darting around to check for survivors. None, besides the guy who just died.

"Where is this fucker?" Soap snarled, speedwalking around the rubble. All the ground team could smell was charred flesh and burnt glass and leaves.

"He has to be in the compound." Alejandro said.

"Shadow-1, what's the ETA on that convoy?" Ghost asked.

"0-7, convoy is still six clicks out, advise you to step it up and secure exfil." Graves informed.

"I'll contact Rodolfo." Alejandro said.

"Do it." Ghost said, in an unintentional Palpatine voice.

"Graves, we're working on exfil now, be advise last building we'll hit is the compound how copy?" Ghost asked, as the team moved towards the compound.

"Movement in the compound, crew." The TV operator said, tracking the movements of each of the personnel rushing around the compound.

"Shadow-1, troops in contact!" Astolfo shouted.