Invaders

As the Apache overhead tore apart the Al-Qatala Ghost remarked "That's a glorious sight."

"Hell yeah it is." N agreed, his wings folding and retracting into his back.

"Hope Hassan's still in one piece." Soap joked.

"We can take 'em in several." J said.

"Easier to find that way." Ghost agreed, as the team made their way to the building.

"All Bravo move up, I want this building locked down." Ghost ordered.

"Soap, J, make entry. Let's find Hassan; dead or alive." Ghost added, as the team arrive at the house, assuming cover as J and Soap enter the house, guns drawn.

"9-7 moving interior." J uttered

"7-1 moving interior." Soap said, as the rest of the team begin fanning out.

The house was riddled in bullet holes and bodies, the hallways filled with blood. CAS got most of them.

Suddenly, 2 Al-Qatala charge in, bull tackling both Soap and J; pulling the pins on their grenades.

J desperately wrestled the man off of her, managing to kick the other away before the 2 men went off; one of the Al-Qatala, before his grenade went off, managed to catch J off-guard in a bear hug, as their grenades exploded, taking the Al-Qatala fighters and a good portion of J's head with it in the explosion.

Scrambling away from the blast, Soap barely managed to get to cover before the second detonated, quickly dashing over to J after the coast was clear, mortified at the level of gore from the blast. He's seen some shit, but this takes it.

A couple seconds later the missing parts of J's head begin to regrow, first as liquid metal, then hardened, as her visor displayed several lines of code before booting up again.

"Fuck!" J exclaimed, quickly raising back to her feet. God, her head was fucking pounding, what the hell was in that grenade?

The first thing she saw was N's face.

Ugh.

"C'mon Soap, we've got work to do." N said, clearly unfazed by what just happened, as he and Ghost begin going into rooms, a stunned Soap following behind.

"Check the bodies, we need positive ID on Hassan." Ghost said.

"Anyone have eyes on Hassan?" N called.

"Negative." Ghost said.

"Negative," Soap replied.

"Negative, no visual on Hassan." 7-2 said.

"Negative, no visual on Hassan here." 7-4 answered.

"[We're here today because we lost a great leader, and I am here to declare revenge for the killing of General Ghorbrani.]" Hassan's voice came from upstairs, as J and Ghost rush up to the staircase.

"Pushing to second deck." J radioed, as the two went up the stairs.

"[The West must pay for a century of hostile acts against us, together; we will avenge the death of General Ghorbrani.]"

"[We will have revenge for the death of our general!]"

An Al-Qatala fighter quickly opens the door, prompting J to grab the barrel of the rifle the fighter had, holding it against the wall, then shooting him once in the gut, then the head in quick succession, as the man collapses, dead.

"[If the world courts do not punish these war criminals, we will take matters into our own hands; at the time and place of our choosing.]"

"[If we must, we will retaliate!]" Hassan finished.

It was just a laptop video of Hassan.

"No Hassan. Bastard's everywhere." Ghost muttered.

"Everywhere but here." J remarked.

Quickly, J exited the room, joining N and Soap, who just recently went up to the second floor, as they walk into the remnants of a room, destroyed by the CAS.

Slowly, J and N ambled into the remnants of the room, as two shots ring out, hitting N in directly in the thigh and shoulder.

Stumbling back from the shot, N quickly limped over to a destroyed wall, slumping over and waiting to regenerate; as J clears out the Al-Qatala, the sound of gunshots and the smell of blackpowder and smoke being all N could smell or hear.

Then nothing.

"Clear, heads up. Sneaky fuckers are everywhere." J scowled, walking over to the balcony, spotting a computer, radio and various other equipment.

"He was here, that's for sure. Place is a fucking ops center." J said.

"Poke around, don't know what we might find." Soap added, looking around the destroyed rooms.

J walked up to the desk, looking at the various papers there, and Hassan's uniform slinged on the back of the office chair.

"So he was here. Fucker bugged out." J snarled, pushing the office chair to the wall.

"All bravo, got movement out here!" 7-6 screamed.

"On the way." Ghost answered.