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“Johnny.” Soap heard Ghost's familiar voice through his sleep. “Wake up, Johnny.”
MacTavish really didn't want to wake up, but he knew the lieutenant wouldn't wake him without a good reason, so he forced himself to open his eyes.
“What happened?” He asked hoarsely, feeling an unpleasant chill on his face as it penetrated the tent through the open entrance.
“They're back.” Ghost reported. “And they're not alone.”
Hearing this, Soap instantly woke up, sat up, and looked at the lieutenant, waiting for more information.
Almost two weeks had passed since the start of the mission, and the only breakthrough had come today, or rather yesterday morning. It was the first time all three targets had left the hut, driving away in their pickup truck. They had left before, but one or two of them always stayed behind, preventing members of 141 from making any progress. This time, Ghost and Soap finally managed to pick the lock and break into the hut. They searched every inch of this place: they looked in all the lockers, nightstands, and even under the bed; they found a trapdoor to the basement under an old rug and searched it; they checked even the outdoor toilet. It wasn't that they didn't find anything at all, but what they found wasn't enough to warrant a raid. There was a little cocaine and weed in a cereal box, and a gun and several boxes of ammunition were hidden behind the sofa cushions. No drug or weapon caches, no illegal laboratories, no substances or parts that could be used to assemble a bomb. There weren't even any supplies in the basement of this damn house, which was a dark and completely empty room with a ceiling so low that even MacTavish had to bow his head.
“There are four women with them.” Meanwhile, Ghost continued his report. “One of the men had to ride in the pickup body so everyone could fit.”
“Women?” Soap stared at Ghost, then reluctantly crawled out of his sleeping bag and began to pull on his clothes. “That's unexpected. What kind of women? What are they like?”
“Young.” The lieutenant shrugged. “Drunk. Not dressed for the woods.”
The sergeant sighed quietly. It was foolish to expect more detailed information about mysterious women from a demon; he simply didn't know what to look for to form an impression. However, what was happening was strange enough as it was. If these women were acquaintances of the targets, they should have known where they were going and dressed accordingly. And if they were strangers, and drunk at that...
Zipping up his jacket and grabbing his assault rifle, Soap quickly followed Ghost to the observation point. He had a very bad feeling about all this. Maybe the subjects weren't narcos or terrorists, but they were hardly good people either. Perhaps they were even worse. What if they had met those girls in a pub or club, gotten them drunk or even drugged them, and then taken them far away from the city with obvious intentions? What should the lieutenant and sergeant do if they hear women screaming or sounds of a struggle? Rushing to help would mean the failure of the entire mission, but if they stayed away, the girls would almost certainly be raped or even killed.
A large bonfire was burning on the lawn near the hut, around which observation targets were sitting. They had carried a small table out of the room, on which there was a bottle of some kind of alcohol and a simple snack: sliced sausage, a can of food, most likely fish, and a few pieces of bread. The girls were not with them, and the door to the hut was tightly closed.
A panicked thought flashed through Soap's mind that he and Ghost were too late and there was no one left to save, but the lieutenant, staring intently at something only he could see, whispered quietly:
“They're here. In the house.”
The sergeant felt a weight lift off his heart. Maybe they were acquaintances, maybe they had nowhere to spend the night and were already asleep, or maybe...
“No, not in the house.” Ghost interrupted Soap's thoughts. “In the basement.”
“Are you sure?” The sergeant whispered just as quietly, even though the targets of their observation were in such a state that they wouldn't have heard even a scream; an unpleasant chill of foreboding quickly descended on Soap again.
“Yes.” The lieutenant replied and looked at the sergeant. “Johnny, get down and contact Captain Price.”
“Aye.” Soap nodded briefly, quickly ran down the hill, and began calling the second combat group on the radio.
Gaz answered. Probably he was on duty at this moment. Fortunately, he could tell from the alarm in MacTavish's voice that something had happened, and he quickly woke Price and handed him the radio.
“What's going on, lads?” The captain asked, awakened so abruptly that he forgot to use the protocol for communication during missions.
Soap quickly relayed everything he had heard from Ghost and seen himself, and for a few seconds there was silence in the radio headset. When Price spoke again, there was no sleepiness in his voice, and his tone had become harsh and cold.
“Bravo 7-1, continue observation. No actions that could compromise you.” The captain ordered. “Do you copy?”
“Aye, Bravo 6.” Frowning and clenching his fists, Soap replied but then couldn't help himself. “Since when do we ignore obvious danger to civilians?”
“You don’t copy, I guess.” Price was clearly annoyed but decided to take a moment to explain. “If the targets had brought the girls here to rape them, they would have done so already, and there would be three of them, not four. Do I need to continue, or do you get it now?”
“I get it, Bravo 6.” MacTavish said guiltily.
He immediately felt guilty for thinking badly of Price, who never passed by civilians if they could still be saved. It didn't matter what mission 141 was on or how seriously injured the person was; if they were in a dangerous area, the captain would always stop to help as much as possible.
“We're on our way.” Price said calmly, without irritation in his voice. “Keep watching. And tell Bravo 0-7 that if the situation changes, he has to decide for himself whether to intervene or not. Do you copy, Bravo 7-1?”
“Aye.” Soap replied. “Bravo 7-1 out.”
The sergeant turned back to Ghost and lay down next to him, only now realizing that he had forgotten to grab his waterproof mat. However, that was the least of his and the lieutenant's problems right now.
“Price thinks these bastards are involved in human trafficking.” Soap said quietly. “They probably got an order for girls, met them at some nightclub, slipped drugs into their drinks, and when they no longer understood what was happening, they put them in a car and brought them here.”
Ghost nodded without commenting or asking any questions. He had dealt with similar situations before and understood perfectly well why some unknown bastard might need girls.
“Price, Gaz, and Roach are already heading our way.” Soap continued. “But they may not make it before the customer arrives, or one of the three may take the girls to another meeting place. Price said that in that case, you, Lt., will have to decide what to do with this. Now we not only have to catch as many of these bastards as possible red-handed, but also rescue the civilians.”
“Roger that.” The lieutenant replied briefly and glanced at Soap. “Go to the camp and get your mat.”
“But Lt., what if something happens while I'm gone?” MacTavish tried to object.
“Then you'd better get back quickly.” Ghost didn't give in, looking back at the hut. “Go, Johnny. That's an order.”
“Aye, sir.” Soap grumbled discontentedly, pouting, then turned and ran quickly toward their small camp.
He returned quickly, but nothing had changed near the hut during his absence or in the next half an hour. The targets continued to drink and have fun, then extinguished the fire and went into the hut. Soap tensed, but Ghost reported that one of them had peeked into the basement for just a few seconds, after which all three had collapsed into sleep.
Time dragged on incredibly slowly. Soap moved closer to Ghost, who put his arm around him, raising his temperature to warm him up. If the lieutenant knew how to use the radio, the sergeant could have returned to camp and gotten some sleep, because it was obvious that nothing else would happen here before the customers arrived. However, he dozed off from time to time, and Ghost did not wake him, allowing him to rest before the battle.
Soap thought about how Price had given Ghost the right to make decisions, not him. He didn't argue or envy him, but now he wondered if the captain knew something the other members of 141 didn't. Obviously, the demon already had experience in command, but had he gained it at the Albright base, or did he have such skills when he was still human? Soap wanted to ask the lieutenant about it but felt himself falling asleep again and did not resist, knowing that he was safe and that Ghost would wake him when necessary.
No matter how fast the second group went, they didn't make it to the meeting place near the hut in time. Soap woke up around dawn, and shortly after that, two of the three targets came out, and about half an hour later, a dirty, dark blue van pulled into the clearing.
“Find out where Captain Price is, Johnny.” Ghost ordered. “And be ready for a fight.”
Three men got out of the van, one of whom was the boss, as could be seen from his expensive suit and fashionable hairstyle. The other two were the driver and, presumably, a bodyguard, both armed with pistols. Presumably, the boss also had some kind of weapon that was not yet visible. The two owners of the hut who greeted the guests also had pistols and a pump-action shotgun.
“The captain said they'll be here in forty minutes.” Soap reported, finishing the radio conversation.
“Roger that.” Ghost nodded. "We'll start as soon as the human trafficking is confirmed. You stay here first; shoot out the tires of the van and the pickup. I'll take care of those bastards, and then you'll come down and take the civilians to safety.”
”Aye, Lt." Soap nodded and began to put on his helmet, which was lying nearby.
Negotiations began near the hut. At first, they just talked, and then one of the men from the hut started showing the boss something on his phone. Soap thought they might be photos of girls, because the man in the suit was looking at them closely and making comments. Perhaps he was pointing out flaws or discrepancies with the order, trying to knock down the price. Finally, they came to some agreement, and movement began near the hut. One of the two owners went inside, and a few minutes later, together with the third, who had remained inside, they began to lead the girls out.
Soap strained his eyes, looking closely at the captives. They were dirty from being in the earthen basement, their clothes partially torn, but there were no obvious signs of violence. However, this was understandable; it wasn't in the kidnappers' interest to damage their merchandise.
Now the boss began to examine the girls themselves, who were lined up in a row and held at gunpoint. They were very young, probably students, and Soap's heart sank. When he looked at them, he thought of his younger sister, who was about the same age. As for Ghost, he remained motionless, but the air around him grew noticeably colder, indicating that the demon was beginning to be overcome with rage.
As much as both soldiers wanted to end this quickly, they understood that time was on their side. There weren't many enemies, and they weren't very well armed, but the presence of civilian hostages and the order to take bastards alive greatly complicated matters. Therefore, the longer the negotiations continued, the more likely it was that Captain Price's group would reach them in time, and the raid would be carried out not by the two of them, but by the entire unit.
Meanwhile, the negotiations down below were nearing their conclusion. After looking at the girls, the man in the suit and one of the hut's owners, probably the leader, began to talk again, but this time not for long. The boss said something to his bodyguard, who took a briefcase out of the van. When it was opened, it turned out to be filled with wads of cash, and that was the signal for Ghost and Soap that it was time to start.
There was a silencer on the barrel of MacTavish's assault rifle. The lieutenant ordered him to wait until he came down and shoot at the wheels, then began to descend the hill. There was nowhere to hide, but everyone involved in the deal was focused on their own business, so Ghost managed to remain unnoticed. Soap saw him hide behind the corner of a hut and pull out two throwing knives, pressing his cheek against the stock and aiming at the car wheel. He fired at the pickup first, and it went unnoticed, but when the distinctive sound of a punctured tire and the whistle of air came from the side of the van, everyone started looking around and reaching for their weapons.
Ghost jumped out of his hiding place and threw the knives from both hands. Having rightly decided that the driver and the boss's bodyguard were not particularly valuable witnesses, he hit one in the eye, the other in the throat, and, without giving his enemies time to recover, rushed into battle.
Chaos reigned near the hut. Two more guards with automatic weapons suddenly jumped out of the back door of the van and immediately opened fire, miraculously missing the girls, who were frozen in fear.
“Get down on the ground!” Ghost shouted at them as he passed by and pushed one of them.
He didn't see if it had any effect, but Soap did. The girls fell, and just in time, because the wall of the hut they were standing next to was immediately riddled with bullets. Ghost fell and rolled over his shoulder, dodging a shot from a shotgun. It slowed him down, but considering the civilian witnesses and the order to take the criminals alive, he couldn't reveal his true nature.
Soap shot one of the hut's owners. He fell, dropping his gun, and crawled toward the pickup truck. Ghost could have finished him off, but he didn't, just kicking him a couple of times in the ribs before jumping behind a pile of stacked firewood.
The enemies still didn't know that the pickup truck was also out of commission and were trying to break through to it. So far, they were acting together, but Ghost was sure that as soon as they reached the car, they would immediately start fighting each other. Now he was the only thing standing between the criminals and their goal, so he started a shootout with them, not letting them get close.
Meanwhile, Soap had already climbed down the hill and, following Ghost's path, was cautiously approaching the girls. They were afraid to do anything because of the almost continuous gunfire, but MacTavish saw that the trajectory of the shots had changed and that they were not in immediate danger. Creeping along the hut, he peered out, then crouched down and ran up to the girls.
“Get up!” He ordered quietly. “I'll get you out of here, come on, come on!”
Instead of obeying his order, they began to bombard Soap with questions mixed with hysterical sobs. It was not surprising, considering what they had been through, but the sergeant had no time for that. He had to come to Ghost's aid because the enemies were slowly but surely closing in on him, and soon the situation could become critical.
“Calm down!” Soap tried again. “I'm one of the good guys, understand? I'm here to help you!”
This time, his words seemed to be heard, because the girls, still sobbing, began to slowly get up. Soap hurried them along, then, glancing at the lieutenant, led them behind the hut and on toward the hill.
Ghost shot one of the boss's guards and slung his rifle over his shoulder. He had used all his ammo, and now he would have to engage in close combat. This wasn’t good, because it would be more difficult to spare the lives of his enemies in this situation. Without a radio, he didn’t yet know that Price's group had already met up with Soap and the freed girls and that it would all be over in a matter of minutes.
The captain wanted to send MacTavish with the girls to his and Ghost's camp, but the sergeant flatly refused. Therefore, this task was handed over to Roach, while Price, Gaz, and Soap hurried to the lieutenant's aid.
Realizing that Ghost had run out of ammo, the criminals continued to fire at his cover and began to advance. The lieutenant was already waiting for them, clutching his large knife with a serrated blade on one side in his hand, when he suddenly heard something that humans couldn't hear and relaxed. He heard familiar footsteps, the quiet breathing of three people, and then a loud voice that belonged to Captain Price.
“Freeze! Drop your weapons!” He ordered.
Three members of 141 sneaked up behind the enemies and held them at gunpoint. Bastards from the hut surrendered immediately, but the boss's bodyguard, the only one still alive, tried to jerk away, and Soap shot him in the leg with obvious pleasure, discouraging him from continuing to resist.
That wasn't the end of it, but Ghost and Soap did not take part in the rest of the action. They sat on a roughly hewn bench near the porch, watching their comrades tie up the criminals, Price call all the necessary services, and Gaz treat the girls to coffee and sandwiches made from food found in the hut.
“I can't wait to get back to base.” Soap said, smoking a cigarette. “I really want to take a proper shower and eat something decent.”
Ghost said nothing, staring thoughtfully into the distance.
“How are you, Lt.? Not tired?” MacTavish asked, glancing at him. “I mean, you didn't get souls this time...”
“Don't worry, Johnny.” Ghost replied. “I got enough of them during the last missions.”
Soon, Price came over and ordered the sergeant and lieutenant to pack up their camp. The helicopter will pick them up from there and then stop at the second group's camp, because they had left a lot of stuff there so as not to slow themselves down with heavy backpacks. Soap wanted to sit a little longer, but he understood that the mission was not yet complete, so he got up and followed Ghost to the hill. As they climbed, police cars and ambulances began to pull up in front of the hut.
“I hope after all this they'll give us at least a few days to rest.” Soap said, dismantling the tent. “The guys at the base said they head to the nearest town when they're off duty and that there are a few decent pubs there. We could go there too.”
“Yes.” Agreed Ghost, who was helping to pack up.
“Maybe we could go somewhere just the two of us?” Soap suggested unexpectedly.
During this mission, he had thought several times that he could ask the lieutenant out on a date because he couldn't deny that he liked Ghost more than just a friend. But for some reason, the sergeant was afraid to say it out loud, and he wasn't even sure that the demon was familiar with the concept of dating, so he chose a more neutral tone.
“Yes.” Ghost agreed again.
He didn't see anything strange in this proposal, of course, but he was pleased that Johnny wanted to spend time with him. It was one of the signs that he liked him, which Price had told him about before the mission. Perhaps if they agree to meet somewhere alone, Ghost should talk to the captain first and find out how he should behave during this meeting.
“Well, that seems to be everything.” MacTavish looked around their camp carefully, making sure they had gathered everything. "Let's get back to the others. I hope the helo will be here soon."
The lieutenant nodded, picked up both backpacks, and they walked slowly toward the hut.