The FOB was in better spirits than before.
Among the JSOC, Gunnery Sergeant Marcus Creed and Sergeant Dmitry Berkhoff walked together. Dmitry finally back on his feet.
This meant he was operational.
Even if he didn't think so.
And Creed was in a great mood.
"So get this, she straight up told me 'I'm not ready to pursue things' AFTER I'd put down a lot of effort! Aye, you have it easy old man. Don't even think you're missing out on dating life."
Creed laughed, walking along the base with his comrade Dmitry.
Around them, numerous JSOC operatives were around the base, either training, playing basketball to pass the time, or helping clean things up.
At this point, it's been a couple days since the JSOC's attack on this FOB, and only now is it starting to shape up.
"Anyway, the Major informed me that that agent is supposed to be touching down any minute. Not sure what the deal is, but I'm not concerned lad."
---
48 HOURS AGO - CIA Headquarters, Langley, Mclean, Virginia.
The office is mostly quiet.
Not peaceful like a 9-5, but more logistical with chatter taking place in enclosed spaces.
The routine clicks from keyboards connected to Window 95's was apparant, and brewing coffee aroma's filled the air.
In his own office, Mr. Graham was handling overseas connections to those in Zaire.
Today, he was sending a man on a mission. A man who would likely be less compliant.
But a man who could get the job done.
This man was Special Agent Landen.
"You wanted me, sir?" Special Agent Landen arrived at the doorway.
The first smell entering his nostrils was tobacco. No smoking allowed indoors, but clearly Mr. Graham bends the rules, because thats exactly the type of man he is.
"We got some friends that need intervention in Zaire, Special Agent Landen." His words were blunt and to the point, hearing the name "Zaire" was like horror for any trooper, especially if they had been in the region already.
Landen immedietely tried to interrupt.
"Alright, let's just---"
But Graham continued.
"Sergeant Dmitry Berkhoff. Hes part of our task force being sent to rescue Fremont. He's Russian so that means hes an unstable asset. Therefore, we need to keep his leash tight and keep him happy -- First step is recovering his old team."
Graham handed the Special Agent some documents.
"The Russian said in his introductory eval that they meant a lot to him. But they're completely off-books. We need to see if they exist still. So you're going to go out there, link up with Berkhoff, and locate them. We have all the leads right here. I need a surgical solution."
Graham's voice remained calm and leisure, remarking smoothly towards the already-hesitant special agent, already lighting another cigeratte for himself.
Landen didn't agree.
Not at all.
He laughed in Graham's face, before spilling the documents all over the desk.
"I told you, sir. I'm done going overseas. Zaire was...Zaire was and always will be a complication. I ain't goin' back."
He raised his voice slightly, firm, but not overbearing to drown out Graham's authority.
Graham was almost confused, "Hm?"
"I've relished building a family. I got a wife. A kid on the way. I've built a life away from the clusterfuck that is Zaire. Desk job back here in Langley, Stateside. Hell, I've even gotten into meditation and I find people who need help and give 'em a second chance. It's Zen. It feels great."
Landen continued his defiance, crossing his arms at his superior.
Graham didn't let this stop him.
"Yeah, but that can all go away, right? One day your car won't start...then what? Next day your wife's acting a little distant, little confused...week after that your bank throws up a flag on your account. Small things. Annoying things. Then your kid's school loses the enrollment paperwork. Then your doctor's office can't find your records. None of it's connected, obviously. Just...life getting complicated."
Graham got off his seat, finishing the cigerrate in the ashtray and blowing it in Landen's face.
Landen looked at Graham with disgust.
Before advancing dangerously.
Landen began towering over Graham threateningly, choosing his words carefully now as he spoke.
"You um...tired of living, Graham...?"
Graham laughed at the threat.
He didn't call security.
Didn't back away.
Instead, he remained right there.
Two dangerous men in a room together. One hiding it by going to desk work, another actively chasing it everyday.
Graham smiled as he replied, "Huh.."
He was deep in thought.
"Just this one time, I need the former clandestine operative to go down there. Not the paperwork guy leading meditation in Langely. Go down there, make it clean, bring Berkhoff his people back, then you can walk. Full pension. Full cover. Go back to your wife. Hold your child. Brand new identity. Nobody calls you again."
Landen was conflicted.
But he gave in. He knew the cost if he didn't follow orders.
Even if it costed him his life going into Zaire.
The hesitation was perhaps something deeper.
"Alright...But after this? I'm done. You hear me? I'm gone."
Landen walked out angrily.
Graham was pleased.
---
PRESENT TIME - JSOC FOB
"Maybe you're right my boy, however there's certainly nothing that feels quite as rewarding as having a wife and a child -…."
Dmitry cut himself off, or at least it seemed that way.
His voice trembled a bit at the end, choking a little, as if his mouth wouldn't let out the words his heart and mind wanted to say.
As they pushed on through the rest of their base, he glanced at the various operatives doing their things, exercising, resting, all that.
Not that it mattered, just something to ease the sudden sharp pain in his throat.
He finally spoke back up once he felt Creed's concern, "Not like i would know. My wife and son left me at the same time - in a fiery explosion."
He let his words linger for a few moments, then hearing what Creed said after, he responded as normally as he could.
"I would hope the agent isn't gonna come and announce we're officially terrorists or something silly like that…"
Creed interrupted him.
"Hey...Fuck, sorry for bringing that up. I'm sorry."
Creed was genuinely sorry for reminding Dmitry of old traumas. To Creed, Dmitry was a man of steel.
One that could take a bullet to the head and shrug it off.
But a man with a past not fully recognized.
Not to Creed.
Not to anyone.
"We will see..."
The helicopter, coming from the direction of Angola, came into view. Creed grabbed binos and looked at it.
Dmitry also examined it, replying calmly.
"Couldn't be any other 'copter, i doubt the animals that live here have access to such, civilised technology."
He was hesitant on the team of which this helicopter belonged to, so he kept his left hand on his holster, just in case, simply staring back at the metal hull with eerily similar cold, emotionless eyes.
As for how Creed felt however, Dmitry hadn't fully come around to him yet, although he enjoyed joking with him and being in the parental role again… he did not want a repeat of many years before.
"How much you wanna bet its that CIA agent? What kind of special agent goes into Zaire unprotected in a helicopter? Could get shot down...figure he would've taken a smarter approach. Guess we know what we're dealing with?" Creed chuckled, approaching this helicopter situation with a joking matter, although there was a hint of worry.
ZLF?
Someone else?
Creed had to stay alert. The helicopter remained on its approach.
"Do you know of the CIA to be competent? Back home in Russia, we used to call them the cocky unintelligent asshats… and I think that remains true."
Dmitry chuckled to himself as the helicopter got even closer, branding zero insignia or any indication of its ownership, so now it was up to the doors to open to reveal if a shootout was at hand or the promised CIA agent.
"Men, get on the anti-air. Precautionary. If this was the enemy we'd be dead by now..." Creed kept at the binoculars as the helicopter closed the gap in the distance, before the side doors opened, revealing a middle-aged man dressed in a black dress shirt tucked into dress pants, who was waving frantically and eccentrically. "I think this is him..."
"Hmmm… perhaps. Terrorists are usually not-so-well dressed in Russia."
Dmitry stood back, seeing the helicopter was coming close to landing on top of them both, his left hand was almost clutching his pistol in its holster, but he didn't unlatch it yet, suspecting this was the agent.
"Hey! Don't shoot, don't shoot! Its me! Special Agent Landen!"
Landen jumped off the helicopter when it reached a safe distance, greeting Creed and Dmitry, being followed by some of his men.
Behind Landen, stood two special forces operators - Corporal Hemlock Grant, and Sergeant Brandon Trafford.
Creed nodded towards the agent.
"Good to meet you mate. Almost scared me, hey--" Creed was interrupted.
"Eeeerrrr...Nope! I'm looking for Dmitry Berkhoff. Sorry to interrupt, but he's who I need to talk to."
Landen addressed Creed and Dmitry, while analyzing the FOB which was half-torn apart and half-repaired.
Dmitry stepped forward, a few inches in front of Creed, almost obscuring whichever part the agent was laying eyes on.
"Address the boy with courtesy agent, you Americans are supposed to be a polite bunch." Dmitrys Russian accent seemed stronger than ever as he spoke, perhaps it was laced with some emotion… maybe he was growing attached to the 'boy'.
"Oh, so you're Berkhoff! I could tell by the accent! I'm sorry for the attitude, I ain't been in Zaire for 8 months, alcohol-free for 4 months and I'm just feelin' that ruuuuush of being in the heat of combat again! AAAAHHH! Damn it feels nice!" Landen was hyper, getting a feel for his surroundings, much to the disdain of Creed, and probably Dmitry, who is now the subject of what Landen came into Zaire to do.
"Alright, alright, settle down young blood. What is it exactly you want from me? If you came here to gloat about bein' at home, ya coulda done that over the radio, at least I wouldn't have had to listen to you…" The last part he mumbled, quite tired of the incessant yapping from the special agent already, standing firm, his arms crossed.
"You remember your old squad? 'Cause we just got a hit on aaallll their locations. We got uhh...a black site for the ZLF...a few outposts...We're hitting them all. And we're going to bring your boys HOME! How's that sound?" Landen nearly jumped out of excitement, handing Berkhoff the mission report document.
Creed stepped in abruptly, but not angrily.
"Is the intel verified?"
He also crossed his arms, examining the three special agents in front of him, as well as the mission report in Dmitry's hands.
Dmitry trembled yet again, same as he thought about his wife, his hand shaking as he grasped the document out of Landen's hand.
His head was filled with anger, sorrow and sadness.
Mostly sorrow, observing everything they had.
Noticing they had the names of the trapped operatives, which was good, they did care as much as he did, then he noticed Mensah.
The man that caused the downfall of their team, screwed up the op and scattered everyone.
Killed half the team too, not like he betrayed them or nothing, just a big mess-up.
"Mensah… is he dead?"
Answering the questions of Creed and Dmitry, Landen spoke calmly, hands on hips.
"Aye - Read the names on the mission report. Its all there. Think we got a Mensah, a Kael, Kurogane...Orlov...a few others that are slippin' from my mind but hey, we're going to rescue them all. Today, we're going to make Zaire...the world...a little bit better than it was yesterday."
Landen stood there triumphantly, eyeing the horizon as he spoke, before facing them directly.
"Not Mensah, that man deserves death." Dmitry spoke harshly, his voice sounding rougher, as if he was choking through his own voice yet again, the emotions of seeing his old team and being forced to rescue them consuming him.
He didn't elaborate further, instead waiting for Landen's words.
Landen chuckled, eyeing that specific name on the file, "Listen, I got direct orders to bring them back in one piece. So I need y'all to trust that I can do my job. After that, you can do whatever. But I want no involvement!"
Landen then turned to his men.
"Get the vehicles ready. We're going to hit that first outpost."
Sergeant Trafford nodded, turning to Hemlock who also nodded.
"Aye aye, sir."
The two left to the vehicle bay.
"My friend, you will sorely regret bringing this man on board, whatever you need him for, he will not deliver." Dmitry seemed a little salty now, almost as if he was being undermined by someone completely uninvolved, someone so completely untouched by his situation.
"But, if you insist.. i cannot guarantee he will come unharmed."
Landen looked at Dmitry.
His eyes conveyed something sinister briefly, before transitioning into his regular go-lucky mood.
"Lets just get this job done, boys. Whenever you're ready come meet me at the vehicle bay!"
Creed watched him walk away. Creed was confused, but understanding. He was ready to go on the operation, albeit he was quite worried for Dmitry's sanity and condition.
"He's definitely the eccentric type...never seen a top secret agent act like that. Hey, man, you good? Can you fight? We don't have to do this if you don't--"
"Listen, you never disobey your bosses boss. Who knows what sort of power this idiot has back home. I don't wanna do this at all, but half of my team was good… i just hope they survived." Dmitry put both hands on Creed's shoulders, almost as though he were a father talking to his son, warning him of some kind of grave danger.
"Then we got a job to do, don't we? If you want to bring your team back, then i'll do anything in my power to ensure we do it with ease." Creed was determined, evident by the look in his eyes.
He took one look at Landen who was walking away, before turning back to his comrade.
"What exactly did Mensah do...?"
He began walking towards the vehicle bay with Dmitry.
"He got a lot of the team killed… not intentionally, but he still did it." Dmitry specifically kept his eyes forward, as if he did not want to fully emphasise Mensah's actions, or perhaps validate them by bringing them back up.
"You could probably get him locked up again depending on what exactly he did. Its a better route than execution..-- In my mind, atleast."
Creed, being the beacon of morality as always, spoke to Dmitry as they went to the doors of the vehicle bay, suggesting the option regarding Mensah.
The option that didn't involve killing.
"I appreciate your morality, I do. But, if he ends up in my hands, he won't be walking away without even a little bit of atonement." Dmitry then turned his head to Creed, finally acknowledging the weight of Mensah's actions with his body. Then turning his attention to the vehicle bay.
"I...Alright...I wont push you on this. Just promise me one thing, alright mate? Don't get yourself killed. We keep our heads in check...we do the mission, this guy leaves and then we can go help the team out once they reach Kinshasa. I...I don't want to lose you over a vendetta against Mensah."
Creed's words weren't harsh but moreso blunt. Creed wasn't against the idea of Dmitry killing Mensah as punishment, but it wasn't ideal for his set of morals.
In addition, Creed was not fond of Dmitry dying in an unhinged moment.
Creed opened the door and let himself into the vehicle bay.
"Like I said kid, the guy ends up in my reach, he will live.. but he won't be thriving."
Dmitry didn't say any further words, moreover he was fed up with the ethical debate, with the thought that his misery was still living and breathing in Zaire, as well as the thoughts of the rest of his team.. he knows they're strong people, although with what Dmitry has seen the ZLF do here, there lingers a deep fear inside of him as to what exactly happened to the 'good' people in his team.
---
An hour later, the team had arrived just outside an outpost that was said to be holding a couple of the Hound Wolf squadmates.
On a nearby hilltop, JSOC soldiers, namely Creed, Dmitry, Grant and Trafford, were gearing up, as Landen peered through the binoculars at the outpost which had minimal security.
Soon Landen crafted a big smile on his face, as he lowered the binoculars from his eyes.
Without looking at his team, he addressed them loudly, exclaiming in pleasure, "Man, do you feel that? That rush? That mix of dopamine and adrenaline just-"
He grunted in pure ecstasy and excitement as he pushed his hands together to illustrate just how pumped up he was for the mission.
Noticing silence from his team, he turned around and awkwardly laughed,
"Its just...that anticipation. All of you, me, we're going to make Zaire a better place today."
"Zaire isn't gonna get any better, not with Mensah alive."
Dmitry let out a loud sigh, he was quite disappointed with the situation, but on the same hand he was hopeful to reunite with members of his old team, no matter how egregious some may have been.
Little did he know, either at this outpost or the next, there would be one of the best in his eyes, and the most morally grey, one he related to but did not like being around.
He eyed Creed, hoping for his agreeance against the agent, but Creed remained silent, so he put his eyes forward once more.
"What's the plan, American man?"
Landen replied, "We go in there, surgically remove any insurgents, and grab your guy. Or guys..."
Landen threw on a vest and jacket excitedly, smiling at Dmitry and Creed.
"Aw man, I cannot WAIT to watch you two do your thing."
He then loaded an MP5.
As Landen, Dmitry, and the other JSOC members prepped, Creed walked over to Trafford as he loaded his own weapon, hoping to get more information.
"How much security we expecting?"
Trafford chuckled, as he loaded both his weapons and adjusted the baseball cap on his head.
"Nothing we can't handle."
Creed didn't reply right away. Trafford pressed on.
"What? Don't tell me you and that Russian are getting the heebie jeebies. C'mon, this is a big moment for the guy."
Dmitry interjected their conversation.
"I just don't think he's the right idiot for the job."
He retrieved his own rifle from the storage, then slinging it over himself and load checking both his pistol and rifle. Once he was satisfied with the check, he pressed on through with the team.
"Now… i am certain you understand getting men back together in one piece, yes? Don't go orgasming all over the enemy once we get there.."
Dmitry spoke specifically to Landen now.
Fearful for what kind of incompetence he could bring to the table in this otherwise highly sensitive op.
An op that would take a dark turn.
Eventually.