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Introduction

All right, now before you read this, let me get a point across that parodying several other works here.  If you've heard of David Baldacci or Oliver L. North's writings, this fanfic parodies those two novels...CALL OF DUTY STYLE!!!  Be warned: some of the content here may disturb some readers.

Reader discretion is advised.

R.I.P Yuri (talk) 17:11, June 29, 2013 (UTC)R.I.P. Yuri


Here's a little summary for 'ya: is the year 2017, a mere hours after Makarov is killed by John Price.  John Price and Nikolai have resurfaced in the Middle East, landing in Israel.  During their reemergence, they cross paths with CIA agent Will Robie, a master of killing and the guy the US government calls on to eliminate America's worst enemies, fourteen-year old Julie Getty, who is now in foster care after her parents were murdered, US Marine Lieutenant Colonel Peter Newman, husband of Rachel Newman and father of James Newman, FBI agent Nicole Vance, and Jessica Reel, an equally professional and dangerous fellow assassin who used to go rogue on the CIA and kill members of her own agency, but eventually earned her redemption by killing a Syrian prince and stopping a conspiracy that could've sent shockwaves through the US government and the entire world.

Things get really heated up when the 141 is tasked with helping Lieutenant Colonel Peter Newman, and his unit find Iraqi weapons of mass destruction (nukes) in the nation of Iran.  While preparing for the mission, Newman's wife Rachel is kidnapped in Jerusalem. 

At the same time, Israel discovers that Iran has nukes and plans to annihilate both the US and Israel for their support for each other.  There's only one guy who knows the pieces of the puzzle-Raul Menendez's son Julio Menendez.  However, he's a dead man walking, having been declared an international fugitive and is now a wanted man by both the CIA, MI6, the Israeli Mossad, and Interpol.  Newman must decide whether to continue the mission to find Iran's nukes or abandon it to find and rescue his wife.  Luckily, Captain John Price and the 141 and Will Robie and the CIA have decided to step in and help Newman find the nukes and his wife at the same time. 

Amid the chaos, Iran races to attack both America and Israel.  Washington and Jerusalem engage in a frantic, last-minute state of diplomacy in a race against time before World War IV occurs.



Characters featured

Task Force 141

US Marine Corps

  • Peter Newman: Lieutenant Colonel of USMC and husband of Rachel Newman

Israeli Defense Forces

  • Ze'ev Rotem: Husband of Dyan Rotem

CIA

  • Will Robie
  • Jessica Reel
  • William Stewart

Special Air Service

US Army Rangers

  • Foley
  • Dunn

Imperialist Coalition Forces

  • Dimitri Komulakov: Ex-KGB operative and current Imperialist Coalition leader
  • Captain Bugayev: Ex-commander of Russian army.
  • Viktor "Volk" Kristenko: Escaped convict and IC member
  • Julio Menendez: Son of Raul Menendez 

Other

  • Julie Getty: Adopted daughter of Jerome Cassidy and friend of Will Robie
  • Rachel Newman: Wife of Peter Newman and mother of James
  • Dyan Rotem: Wife of Ze'ev Rotem

Weapons

Assault rifles

Carbines

Personal Defense Weapons

Light machineguns

Pistols


Okay...here we go


Arrival In Israel (Chapter One)

[January 21st, 2017 –7:00 A.M.]

[Captain Price]

[Task Force 141]

[Arabian Peninsula]


"Screw this," John Price muttered as he got up from the atrium floor after having hanged the poor blockhead Makarov.  He'd been enjoying a smoke while hearing police sirens in the background when Nikolai suddenly rang in his comms, "Price!  Yuri!  Anyone there?  Come in!"

Shoot, he thought.  The guy finally comes to rescue me.  Killing a major terrorist idiot like Makarov really wore out one's nerves and he'd been waiting for Nikolai to rescue him for hours.  

"Nikolai, this is Price!" he blared in his comms.  "Yuri's K.I.A.  I'm the only one left!  I could use some help here."

"Da, Captain Price," said Nikolai's cheery voice.  "I'll pick you up."

Price slowly made his way back to the top of the roof and found the smoking chopper.  Nikolai's Mi-24 Hind was circling above, monitoring Makarov's crashed Little Bird for any signs of activity.  Price looked up as the Hind approached the edge of the roof.

"Here goes nothing," Price said after taking a deep breath.  Then he ran for the chopper and made a good 'ole leap inside the bird.

"So," Price said.  "Where do you think we should go next?  Makarov and his Inner CIrcle are all dead.  We should probably get out of here while we still can."

"Da," Nikolai said with a smile as they left the hotel-or what was left of it.  "I know a place that's fabulous.  I hear they've got a lot of cute girls there."

Price looked at him awkwardly.  "What?"

"We're going to Israel!" Nikolai announced.  


Jerusalem, Israel

January 21, 2017

Derek "Frost" Westbrook


"Frost?  You okay?" a voice rang in his ear.  "Frost?  Can you hear me?"  Derek "Frost" Westbrook stirred, groaning in pain as he tried to move.  His mind was swimming in a pool of memories; Sandman telling him to breach the door, Alena being taken away by the Hind, surviving a building collapse...

How the hell did I survive all that?

"FROST!" he heard the voice scream again.  He snapped awake and looked around.  He was in a hospital bed in the middle of nowhere.  He could see Hebrew writing on the wall behind him and he thought to himself, I'm in a hospital in Israel?

"He's waking up!" cried a voice-but it didn't sound like Grinch's, Truck's, or Sandman's.

It kinda sounded like...someone else.

He looked to his left and right and saw that he was surrounded by a bunch of US Army Rangers.

And smack dab in the middle of this group was none other than his friend, Sergeant Gus Foley.

Foley, a 20-year black Ranger from Charlotte, North Carolina, commanded the Rangers during the surprise invasion of America by Russians last year.  He met Frost shortly before he went to go fight in New York City.  He'd become friends with everyone in Foley's unit and hung out with them a lot until he went to go fight in New York and Europe.  During that time, he missed the Rangers.

Now he was back with them.

"Am...I alive?" Frost gasped.

"You're okay, son," Foley said.  "You took quite a beating, but you lived."

"How...?" Frost ventured, but then he fell silent.

"Darn," said Dunn.  "You're one heck of a survivor."

"What happened when I was...unconscious?" Frost asked.

"Well, the war ended," Foley said.  "And that British smartass John Price killed Makarov."

Frost looked at Dunn.

"Err, I look terrible, don't I?" he asked.

"Nah," Dunn said.  "You're fine.  You're a tough son of a toad."



One day later...


January 22, 2017-7:11 P.M.

Captain Price'Task Force 141'Jerusalem, Israel



John's first step onto Israeli soil was a mix of both comfort and disgust; he saw the streets of the city and the Temple Mount.  The Dome of the Rock, however, disgusted him and he often wish he could destroy it.  However, he'd incur the wrath of the Muslims if he did that and, therefore, he decided to keep quiet about destroying the darn thing.

They checked into the David Citadel Hotel on King David Street, close to the entrance to the Old City.  Nikolai remembered the hotel because the ex-President Vladimir Putin once stayed there.  The room they stayed in was well air conditioned, had a view of a swimming pool out in the front, and had a flat-screen TV, which-much to John's delight-played more English-language channels that Hebrew ones.

"Nice," he said, kicking off his boots and peeling off his TF141 uniform, trading it for civilian clothes and a pair of sneakers.  "I like this place already."

"I can tell," Nikolai said, entering the bathroom.  John heard him singing in the shower, which was something Nikolai always did when cleaning up his body, and then he re-emerged with a T-shirt and a pair of shorts.

"It's hot today," he said.  "Thank God for air conditioning."

John just laughed, flopped down on the nearest sofa, and began watching the History Channel.


 Updates  (Chapter Two)

January 22, 2017-7:11 P.M.

Will Robie

CIA

Jerusalem, Israel


Will Robie usually didn't mind a little heads up about a new enemy; he'd just take and brush it off like it was none of his concern.  At least that's what he thought when he sat down at some restaurant in the Old City, Jerusalem with Jessica Reel.  That was, until he found out about this particular enemy.  He was staring at the profile of Major Dimitri Komulakov.  And reading the profile made him feel...well, overwhelmed; Robie had apparently discovered this guy, who'd been suspected of spying for the KGB back in the '80s and early '90s by the FBI.  Over time, Komulakov earned ever higher accolades from his Moscow superiors back then.

And then there was the Imperialist Coalition; yep, the bar steward Komulakov had reformed Russia and turned it into an imperialistic nation.  How in the blazes Komulakov transitioned from espionage to politics was something Robie would probably never know about.

Komulakov "retired" from the KGB in the 1980s, having been reassigned to diplomatic service by the Soviets.  In the '90s, after the collapse of the USSR and the formation of the Russian formation, the KGB, Komulakov had been told, was no more.  However, it had actually changed its name to the Federal Security Service, or SVR.


The second file he read was of Lieutenant Colonel Peter Newman.  Apparently, he lived under an alias-John Clancy (which, to him, sounded too much like Tom Clancy, the famous action writer).  His wife, "Sarah Clancy", who was really a 38-year old woman named Rachel Newman, worked at this place called the Hospice of Saint Patrick, located in the Old City of Jerusalem.  Peter had dark brown hair and hazel eyes, according to the profile.  

A daycare center, he thought.  How interesting.

Jessica Reel looked over his shoulder; apparently the profile on Komulakov and Newman caught her eye too.

"This guy's got real nice digs," she said.  "I'm jealous."

Robie looked at her.

"You think?" he asked her.

"Personally, I believe this Komulakov guy is a pain in the rear end," Jessica suggested.

"I think he's just a bar steward," Robie said.

Robie looked back at the profile on Newman, admiring his brown hair and hazel eyes.  Then something caught his eye; the little caption below the picture said that the Newmans had been Christians since 2001, when they first came to the faith.

"Wow," Robie said.  "I'm just a foul-mouthed atheist."  It was true; Robie was born in an atheistic family, which made him an atheist too.

"I wonder if we can talk to this guy and his wife," Jessica said aloud.

Robie put the files away and turned around.

"I think we can," he said.  "But first, we'll have to find out more about this family."


January 22, 2017-7:12 P.M.

Captain Price

Task Force 141

Jerusalem, Israel


It was Nikolai's suggestion that they explore the city, but apparently it was also his idea to visit an American Christian family, whom he heard from some Spetsnatz guy back in 2016.  John sighed; being a foul-mouthed atheist he never felt comfortable among Christian people.  However, Nikolai was raised in a Christian home, so he had no trouble; he was born Presbyterian, which was a bit awkward for Price, considering the fact that he was an atheist.

But Nikolai was a bit disappointed to know that the intended family he wanted to talk to was not at home, but rather they were eating dinner across the street near the Hospice of Saint Patrick, where they worked.  

"No matter," he said.  "We could, ah, eat there and talk at the same time."

"Right," Price said.  "Nikolai, how is it that you're...comfortable with these people?"

"Long story," said Nikolai.  "But the short version is this: I've been a Christian for five years, Price.  I was saved in 2015, two years ago.  I met the Newmans shortly before World War 3 started and I've been real comfortable hanging out with them ever since."

"So you've known these people for a year?" Price asked, heading down the street toward a small street vendor.

"Da.  And I can tell you this: they love having me around."


January 22, 2017-7:13 P.M.

Will Robie

CIA

Jerusalem, Israel


Eating street food wasn't all that bad, considering the fact that he ate a lot of street food numerous times in the past.  Apparently, Israel was no different from any other place he visited where he had street food.  His Sabich, some kind of Israeli sandwich consisting of pita bread stuffed with fried eggplant and hardboiled eggs, tasted really good and sometimes he felt his taste buds tingling.

Jessica Reel was eating from the same thing and to be honest, even she felt like it tasted good.

"Huh," Robie heard a voice peep.  "Those guys seem to be having fun."

He turned and saw a Marine in his fifties with an appearance exactly like that in the file.  

The 38-year old woman beside him had brown hair, just like the guy, and light blue eyes.

"Err, hi," Robie said awkwardly.  "I'm Will Robie."

"Peter Newman," said the Marine, shaking Will's free hand.  Then he pointed at the 38-year old.

"This is my dear wife, Rachel, Will.  Rachel, this is Will."

"Uh, I'm Jessica Reel," Reel said awkwardly, shaking Rachel's hand.  "You guys may know me as the ex-CIA defector who killed two of my own agents after thinking they were traitors."

Robie lookedd own at a two-and-a-half year old guy with sandy brown hair and dark eyes, which kind of made him look Asian despite his Caucasian skin.

"Who's this guy?" he asked.

"This is James," Rachel said.  Then she looked down at the toddler.

"Say hi, James."

"Hi," James said in a high-pitch childish voice.

Then, much to Robie's surprise, James started grabbing a stuffed giraffe and shoving it into his hands.

"Err, I don't want it," Robie said, giving the toy back to him.  "Thanks anyway, though."

James just put the toy at his feet and went back to playing with his other toys.

"When did you guys get here?" asked Rachel.

"Err, yesterday," Robie said, feeling a little embarassed because of what James did earlier.  "We got in yesterday."

"Are you on vacation?" asked Peter.

Robie nodded.  "I'm taking a real lengthy time off.  I'm not supposed to be back at the agency until two weeks from now."

"Wow," Rachel said.  "That really is a long vacation.  Care to sit down and talk?"

"Err, okay," Robie said, pulling up a chair from behind him and sitting down.  "I can do this all day if you guys wanted to."



January 22, 2017-7:14 P.M.


Nikolai

Task Force 141

Jerusalem, Israel



Nikolai found Will Robie-another friend of his-talking with the Newmans.  He'd met Robie during the first week of his extensive vacation with ex-CIA defector Jessica Reel.  The two became fast friends after that.  Now, with the Newmans involved, Nikolai thought they'd form their own little circle of buddies.

"We probably shouldn't intrude," said John.  

Nikolai looked at him and nodded, then they sat a few tables across from the Newmans.  Price was eyeing their every move; apparently he expected the American guy to just whip out his weapon, point him out as a wanted criminal, and have him arrested.

But that didn't happen, mostly because there was no gun on him.

"Huh," said Nikolai.  "You look awfully nervous."

"I actually am," said Price.  "I mean, now we're on every bar steward's list and we're war criminals.  Those 'Christians' may turn us in!"

"Now, I wouldn't worry about that," Nikolai reassured him.  "Newman's a nice man.  He wouldn't betray anyone."

Price sighed.

"I guess you're right, mate, but still..."

He was interrupted by Robie's approaching footsteps.

"I heard the two of you talking," he said.  "Did you meet the Newmans?"

"Holy smokes!" Nikolai said and then sprang out of his chair with the agility of an athlete, much to the surprise of Price and Robie.  "Newman, is that really you?"

"Huh," Price said.  "Look at him; he's having a super time over there."

Nikolai was talking hurriedly and Price suddenly heard his name being mentioned several times.

They're talking about me, he concluded.

"Hey there, John," the Marine guy said, walking up to him.  "I'm Peter Newman."

"I'm John Price," Price replied awkwardly.  "But please...call me John."

"Huh," said the 38-year old woman accompanying Peter.  "So this is the guy who killed that Russian dude Makarov.  Nice to meet you.  I'm Rachel."

"Err, hi," Price said.  "Ah, yes.  I did kill the Russian dude Makarov."

"Oh, and I'm sorry about your friend Soap MacTavish," Peter said.  "Your Russian friend over there told me what happened."

Price laughed sheepishly.  "It just makes me glad he's dead," he said.  "Makarov was one nasty bar steward, if you ask me."

"I'm pretty sure he was," Peter said.  "Poisoning Europe and trying to take over the continent like a crazed dicator out of a war movie."

"I'd consider him...a patriotic terrorist," Price said.  Then he turned to Robie.

"Do you trust these guys?" he asked.

"I kinda do," Robie said, feeling a bit weird.


Operation Mongoose (Chapter 3)

January 22, 2017-7:16 P.M.

Dimitri Komulakov

Imperial Coalition

Old CIty, Jerusalem


Captain Anatoly Bugayev, age 26 with short, black hair and blue eyes, was a bit agitated by the fact that the American Marine Peter Newman and his wife Rachel were once his worst enemies.  Well, technically they still were, but the guy who had the most problems with them was Dimitri Komulakov.  The two of them were meeting at a diner in the Old City of Jerusalem, discussing ways to get rid of the Newmans and any possible associates.

With his Makarov PM pistol in hand, he said, "We have to deal with this Newman bar steward.  Otherwise he'll be a scourge on the Imperialistic Coalition."  

"Uh-huh," agreed Dimitri Komulakov.  "Otherwise he'll be a danger to us."

"I have an idea," said Bugayev.  "Let's go after not just Newman, but Robie."

"Who?" asked Komulakov.

"Will Robie, the CIA agent," replied Bugayev.

"Yes, but he's a dangerous one," said Dimitri.

"Doesn't mean we cannot try," Anatoly said.  "Anyway, I have a codename for this operation.  It is called Operation Mongoose."

"Mongoose?" asked Komulakov.  "Why not Operation Crap-Eater."

"That will be too dumb," said Bugayev.

"How will we get to the Israeli man, Ze'ev Rotem?" Komulakov asked.  "He is a man that hides as well as a weasel."

"I know," said Bugayev.  "His wife, Dyan Rotem."

Komulakov stopped.  "Dyan Rotem?"

"She and Rachel Newman have been friends for two years, comrade," Bugayev explained.  "That means that they both know about their husband's jobs."

"What is your point behind taking these two?" asked Komulakov.

"Their husbands are in the military and we need them taken out," Bugayev said.  "I heard it once said that sometimes they take the wife as a means of getting to the husband.  Now do you see what I mean?  We'll take the wives and interrogate them so we can get their husbands."

"Uh, that sounds a bit extreme," Komulakov said.  "Any other ideas?"

"We could take their children," Bugayev said.  "But Dyan doesn't have any children.  I heard she is pregnant, though."

"Pregnancies," Komulakov muttered.

"And we have Julie Getty," said Bugayev.  "She's fourteen, going on forty."

"What does she look like?" Komulakov asked.

"Last time I checked, she had brown hair and I think hazel eyes.  I can't remember," Anatoly said.

"We'll work from there," said Komulakov.  "Any idea where these adult women are?"

"They work at the Hospice of Saint Patrick," Bugayev said.  "Right here in the Old City."

"Well, that makes our job a whole lot easier," said Komulakov.  "Considering the fact that Rachel Newman has kids."

"She only has one," said Anatoly.  "A two-and-a-half year old named James."

"He doesn't know anything," Komulakov said.  "He's clean.  Let's just get the adults."

"That's what I am thinking too," Anatoly said.  "By the way, I have an associate who can help us out."

"Who?" asked Komulakov. 

"Kristenko," Anatoly said.  "Viktor Kristenko.  But I call him Volk."

"Why?" asked Komulakov.

"He's like a wolf to me," Anatoly replied happily.


One day later...


January 23, 2017

Old City, Jerusalem

Rachel Newman


Okay, Dyan Rotem may have been a pain in the rear end for Rachel Newman (under alias Sarah Clancy) at times, but she was still her friend.  She couldn't possibly find a way to answer Dyan's question regarding Peter's whereabouts, but she simply settled on a response that was as generic and truthful as it went.  "Uh, John's hanging out with some guy named Will Robie," she said to Dyan.  "He kind of likes the guy."

"I heard Ze'ev talking about this man," Dyan replied.  "But I didn't think the two of them could be best friends."

"Well, they are now," Rachel replied.  "Anyway, what'd you find out from your doctor.  Any good news?"

"Oh, yes!  I almost forgot why I came to see you, Sarah.  Yes, it's good news.  I'm pregnant!  Can you believe it?  I'm so happy!"

"Uh, how excited is Ze'ev?" 

"Very.  He very much wants a son."

Rachel had to admit that pregnancies were exciting, but then she began doubting whether Dyan could handle parenting.  Being a mother herself, Rachel knew what it was like to be a parent.  It was sometimes a headache.


Dyan was an Israeli, having been married to Ze'ev for a year.  She was originally from Hungary, but immigrated in 2000 to Israel as a teenager.  She met Ze'ev at the Hebrew University in Jerusalem, where Dyan was studying Economics and Ze'ev was training to be a fighter pilot for the Israeli Defense Forces.  They dated on and off during that time, but lost track of each other when Ze'ev joined the military.  In the spring of 2015 before World War III, they met again and they got married in 2016, while World War III raged on.

Ze'ev met Will Robie and his partner, Jessica Reel, and his other friend, Julie Getty, at the Hospice of Saint Patrick, as well as the Newmans.  He suggested to Dyan that she talk with Robie, Reel, Newman, and Getty.  And he was right; Dyan and Rachel became fast friends and they were friends ever since.

Well, in reality, Dyan was having trouble dealing with Robie's "foul mouth".  Rachel didn't have any problems, for some reason.  Apparently it was because some random source told her about Robie's tendency to swear and she...well...was bothered, but then found a way to get around it.

Today, Rachel and Dyan were planning to visit the Ha' Shalom Park (Peace Forest).  They talked with Isa, the hospice manager who was originally from Cambodia, to watch James while they were gone.  After making the final preparations, Rachel and Dyan were ready to go.

"Hey, Sarah, let's take my car," Dyan said.  "I'm parked just across the street by the Othman Taghmor."



January 23, 2017

Old City, Jerusalem

Imperial Coalition

Viktor "Volk" Kristenko


Volk was ready; it'd been almost a year since he escaped from that prison facility in Guatanamo Bay, while being tortured by that bar steward Peter Newman.  He jumped at the idea of kidnapping his wife, as he thought it would be some kind of revenge plot against the guy.  But at age 33, he doubted if he could do it without Newman knowing, since he had a history of past acts of aggression against Newman; the latest was two years ago in 2015, where he raped Peter's wife Rachel.

Now he had the chance to give Rachel the ultimate punishment.  And having an entire army of ex-Inner Circle soldiers at his command (they were holdovers\runaway convicts that used to be members of Makarov's Inner Circle) was even better.


He heard Rachel and her Israeli friend, a 34-year old by the name of Dyan Rotem, talking and joking about a "pregnancy" as his men appraoched the sidewalk they were walking on.  Listening carefully, he was able to learn that Dyan was pregnant.  

"Okay," he said into a radio.  "Do your thing."

Almost immediately the van driver slammed the brakes, four of his elite commandos jumped out, wielding SG553 assault rifles.  Volk smiled; before either woman could react, his guys clamped their hands over their mouths and dragged her into the van, shoving her into the pavement and smashing her face on it, with the Israeli on top of her.   Volk started grinning.

"Bring them in here and them up!" he barked.  

"Yes, sir!" replied one of the men, who began dragging the American into the van, with the other three following suit with the Israeli.

"No!" Rachel was screaming.  "No, please!"

"Shut up!" Volk cried.  "Shut up, you bar steward!"  Rachel wouldn't stop screaming and neither would Dyan, so he signalled to his best man, 24-year old Yuri Lubov, with whom he'd been friends for four years, two years longer than the Israeli and the American.  Yuri and another one of his buddies wrapped the women's mouths with duct tape, pulled cloth bags over their heads, and tied their hands behind them with narrow nylon straps.

"Turn it up!" Volk cried to the driver, who nodded and tune the radio to a heavy metal station and turned it up so loud, the two women's frantic screams were drowned out easily.

Volk knew that the women's noses were smashed and bloody and that with their mouths taped shut, they could easily suffocate.  But he couldn't take the risk.  He wanted the two women alive, but he didn't want to take any chances with safety.

So he just signalled the driver to keep on going while the women suffered from their tape gags.

Volk was sure there were no witnesses, as the whole thing took less than twenty seconds. To his utter delight, he was correct.  There were absolutely no witnesses to the abduction.  

While Volk was enjoying himself, the van reached an industrial area outside the Old City.  A large tractor trailer truck was parked outside and there was a huge container in the back.  Inside was a large stack of crates.  Volk had ordered a large prism-shaped box put in the container, among other crates.  He'd also ordered the box chained down to prevent it from being moved by suspicious people.

Underneath the flatbed was a metal door, apparently the only way to access this box.  The van pulled into the parking lot of the industrial area, where the two women were dragged out.  Volk wrapped more duct tape around the women's ankles and then had his men carry them like rolls of carpet and shove them into an opening into a seated position on either side of the trapdoor.  The trapdoor clanged shut and Volk said, "Bravo, comrades.  I'm sure Komulakov will be pleased."

"These women are so screwed," Volk muttered, smiling as he took out his phone and called his other best friend, John Ferguson.

Two miles from the site of Rachel Newman and Dyan Rotem's abduction in the Old City, Julie Getty screamed bloody murder, having been kidnapped exactly two hours after Volk had taken the two women.



January 23, 2017

Near Tiberias, Israel

John Ferguson



John Ferguson, age 29 with dark hair and hazel eyes knew his mission: grab 14-year old Julie Getty and get her to talk about Will Robie and his associates.  He got all the information down; aged 14, brown hair, unknown eye color (supposedly hazel), and currently under the guardianship of Robie, a girl named Reel, and another guy named Jerome Cassidy.  John prided himself in serving his country, being an ex-FBI agent and all.  However, once he got a job at Task Force 141 and became a mole for them, his life changed.

Watching Volk kidnap Julie Getty was the easy part; getting her out of Israel without being discovered, without getting caught by cops, and without getting his cover blown was the hard part.  As he waited, his phone rang.  

"Hello?" he asked into the receiver.  It was Volk.

"Do you have Julie Getty?" Volk asked.

"Uh, yeah.  My men just snagged her.  Why?"

"I want her on the same truck I have the women," Volk said.  "I want to interrogate them together so I can find out about all three people at once."

"That I can do," said John.  "Anyway, where are you guys?"

"I'm actually outside," Volk said.  This made John look outside at the truck.  Sure enough, Volk was there; he could only see Viktor's legs however.

"Uh, why are you calling me when you're right outside?" John asked.  "They could trace this."

"Oh, they won't trace it," Volk said.  "For God's sake, we're in the middle of nowhere.  We're fine."

"Uh, okay," said John.

He then clicked off.

Five minutes later, he heard one of his men bark, "Sir, the package is here!"

John turned and saw two of his men dragging the package toward the truck.  He smiled; the guys did a good job tying her up with nylon straps.  However, he thought the duct tape across her mouth was unneccesary.

"Get her inside the truck," he barked.  The men obeyed, with John spectating behind them.

After Julie had been secured, John got inside the huge metal container and peeled the tape from Julie's mouth.

"Why are you doing this?" she gasped, tears running down her eyes.

John took a deep breath and said, "Well, it's complicated."

"You're kidnapping me!" she cried.  "They're going to be looking for you!"

"Ah, I'll be out of the country by then," John said.

"Go to Hell!" Julie screeched.

John surprised both himself and the package by remaining calm; he was pretty good at doing that, but he was especially good at it when people swore at him.

"I have a friend in the CIA," Julie went on.  "He's going to find you and kill you."

"Huh, last time I checked Will Robie was off the grid," John said.

"Well, he's not," Julie said.  "And he'll find you and kill you!"

"Yeah, sure," John said.  "Like that'll ever happen."

He then looked at Julie right in the eyes and said, "Now listen to me very carefully, you mothertrucker.  I'll give you some freedom and let you talk to your inmates, but don't-and I mean it-try to escape, or else I will shoot you and no one will ever find your bodies.  Is that clear?"

"Y-Yes," Julie said shakily; apparently this guy was intimidating her even if he didn't curse.  

"Okay, good," John said.  Then he went turned to go outside, but then Julie asked, "Hey, where are we and where are you taking me?"

"You're in no-man's land, pal," John said.  "And as for where you're being taken, I can't say.  Volk's probably trying to hide something."


Once shut in, the truck began moving and Julie just sat there, thinking about why she'd been kidnapped along with the other two "inmates".  Then she heard moans coming from the box behind her and realized that the two inmates John mentioned were actually inside the box.



January 23, 2017

Near Tiberias, Israel

Rachel Newman


Rachel heard someone moving above her, installing a ray of hope inside.  But with the tape on her mouth, she couldn't speak and she couldn't see through the bag over her head.  The two of them were cramped together with little room to move around.  However, as she lay there, Rachel realized the tape covering her mouth began to lose its adhesion.  Pushing at it with her tongue, Rachel opened her mouth to try and loosen it a little more.

Eventually it came off and she could speak.

"Dyan, are you all right?  Can you hear me?"

Dyan moaned softly as she tried to respond, "Mmmm...mmm."

Later, she heard Dyan moving around.

"AAUGH!  Mine came off too," she said.  "I think the blood from my lip must have softened it!  I-I guess I'm all right.  Are you OK?"

"More or less.  I think they broke my nose, but I'm okay."

The person outside began moving again, and Rachel's eyes suddenly widened hopefully.

"I think there's someone outside!"



January 23, 2017

Near Tiberias, Israel

Julie Getty


Okay, there really was someone-no, two people-in the box.  The first voice sounded American, but the other sounded like a mixture of Israeli and Hungarian.  Julie tried to keep it together, but her excitement got the best of her and she started screaming, "HEY!  Are you guys okay?"

"Who is that?" asked the Israeli in the box.

"I dunno," the American voice said.  "It sounded like a girl."

Julie took a deep breath and said, "My name is Julie Getty.  I've been kidnapped and put in a container with...you guys."

The American cried, "Julie?  That you?"

Now Julie looked a little surprised and slightly irritated.  "You know me?  Did, ah, Will Robie mention me in front of you?"

"No," the American said.  "My name is Sarah Clancy.  Pleasure to meet you, ah, Julie Getty.  And yes, Will actually did mention you."

"Just call me Julie, okay?  Is the, err, Israeli with you?"

"Y-yes," replied the Israeli in a shaky voice.  "My name is Dyan Rotem.  You must be Will Robie's other friend Ze'ev mentioned."

"I actually am," Julie said.  "But Robie can be a pain in the ass sometimes.  Pardon my language."

"Okay, Julie, do you have any idea where we are or where they're taking us?" Sarah asked.

"Uh, the guy I talked to didn't say anything about where we're going," Julie said.  "But he said we were in 'no-man's land.'  That must mean the middle of nowhere."

"Oh..."

Julie then heard her new American friend talking with the Israeli.

Dyan mentioned that she was sure the kidnappers wanted to get her husband, whom Julie found out was actually Ze'ev Rotem and that he was possibly targeted because he was in the military.  Dyan also mentioned that sometimes the kidnappers took wives as a means to getting to the husbands.

"Wait a second," Julie interrupted.  "You mean you think you're the target?  They wanted you?"

"Yes," Dyan replied, her voice almost breaking.  "They....probably wanted to get my husband.  So they took me and Sarah was simply with me and they didn't know who was who."

"Wait a sec," Julie said.  "They took me too!  Any idea why they did that?"

"I don't know, sweetie," Sarah replied.  "But I think..."

She stopped to think.

Julie just waited patiently.

Then Sarah continued.  "I think they took you because they thought you had connections to our husbands."

"Uh, that's a good theory," Julie replied.  "But, ah, I have this slight feeling you're incorrect.  I know nothing about what your husbands do, except for the fact that they're military guys."

The truck moved again, jostling Julie and the two adult prisoners against the walls of the container.

"Dyan, can you stand up?" Julie heard Sarah ask.

"I don't know." Dyan's voice sounded muffled against the wooden box.  "I can try...but I can't see anything, and I don't know if this box is tall enough for someone to stand.  But I'll see what I can do."

Julie felt the box lid thumping as she heard Dyan moving around.

Then she said, "I'm kneeling.  I tried to stand, but it wasn't high enough.  I'm braced in a corner.  What do you want me to do?"

"Uh, if you're talking to me, I think I can break the box open," Julie said.  "I mean, it's encased in chains, but I can find something to break them and get you out."

"You really are a sweetheart," Dyan said.  "But you might injure yourself and us.  I don't think you should risk it."

"Just hold on," Julie said.  "I'll see if I can break this thing open."


She then went to work on trying to find something to break the box open.



January 23, 2017

Near Tiberias, Israel

Rachel Newman


"Okay, Dyan, just wait for a few minutes or so if you can," Rachel said.  "I'll see if I can move my arms around to the front."  She then scrunched her knees up, stretched her arms out as best she could, and pulled her bound wrists down over her buttocks and thighs.  Rolling on her back and drawing her knees to her chest, she pulled and pushed until she got her hands forward of her feet, and at last, above her knees.

"I did it!" she cried.  "My hands are in front of me now.  I'm going to try and take this bag off me."  Rachel's fingers were numb from the lack of circulation, but she was able to find the end of the tape that held the cloth bag around her neck and after a few more minutes of tugging, she sucesssfully removed the hood.

There was a dim light from narrow slits in the floor, but it allowed Rachel to peel off the tape that held the sack over Dyan's head.

Her friend's face was a mess. She had a swollen lip and a broken tooth.  Dried blood from her broken nose was caked all over her face.

"Aren't we a couple of beauties," Dyan said.  "Can you tell which direction were going."

Rachel knelt down and put her eye to one of the floor slits, the pavement flashing by underneath her.  By moving backward and looking forward, she could see the shadow of the truck's tires.  The shadow was directly behind the tires and she twisted her wrist to cast some light on her watch.

It was 10:35 A.M.  "The sun's directly in front of us," she said.  "We must be heading east."

Suddenly, Julie cried, "I found it!"



January 23, 2017

Near Tiberias, Israel

Julie Getty



Julie was able to obtain a power hacksaw and began to saw the box open.  The noise was deafening and Julie's eyes stung from the wood flying in her face.  But she managed to suceed in getting the box open and was able to pull Sarah Clancy and her friend out of it.  Sarah began to examine their surroundings.

"Wow," Dyan said.  "You're strong, Julie.  I'm impressed."

"Ha!  What can I say?" Julie said.  "I'm a genius."

"I want to get out of here now," Sarah said.  "I have a two-and-a-half year old back at home and I'm worried about him."

"Yeah, but if we did, the guy I talked to said if we tried to escape, we'd get our heads blown off."

"I don't care what he says," said Sarah.  "I just want to get home."

Julie then thought back to what the man had said about them being killed if they escaped; he sounded as if he didn't actually mean it, that he was faking it.

Was he really a terrorist?

Then she glanced at the boxes lined up against the walls of the container.

After that, she ran to the back of the container, where she could faintly hear two voices talking.

The first voice was that of the American who had taken her.  The other was a Russian voice.  Julie thought he was the one who planned the whole stinking operation to begin with, but then again she could be wrong.  As she strained to listen, Dyan asked, "What are you doing?"

"Ssssh..." Julie whispered.  "I'm listening."

"...what are we going to do with them?" the Russian was asking the American.

"Oh, I don't know," he said.  "As for the Israeli and American, I'm thinking we should take them both to some place in Palestine, or Lebanon, or maybe even Syria.  Then we'll interrogate them, and when we're done, we're turning them loose."

"No," said the Russian.  "I will slit their throats one by one."

Julie stopped cold; they were going to be executed?

"Guys, I think they want to kill us after they're done with us," she said in horror to the two women.  "Now even I don't care if that guy will blow us away if we run.  I wanna get out of here too."



January 23, 2017

Jerusalem, Israel

John Price



"Guys, I think there's a situation," Will Robie said at John's hotel later that day.  Nikolai, Peter Newman, and Jessica Reel all looked at him, their faces showing confusion.  WIll took a deep breath as he prepared to tell them the bad news.

"Julie Getty's been kidnapped.  So have Rachel Newman and an Israeli named Dyan Rotem."

Peter froze; he apparently was shaken by the news.  Who would want to kidnap his wife anyway?  

"Did she say she was all right?" he asked.  "Or where they took her?  Did they force her to telephone wit hthe information?"

"Uh, no," Will said.  "I checked with Blue Man, my boss, and he said that they were locked in a box being transported on a truck."

"How'd you hear this?" asked Peter.

"I watched it on the news and then Blue Man told me he had the intelligence to prove it.  I thought he was joking at first but he's right."

Peter felt helpess, but Will Robie felt confident for no apparent reason.  John Price thought that overconfidence made everyone careless, but when he saw the smug look on Will Robie's face, he began to have other ideas about him.

"Who did this anyway?" asked Nikolai.

"Some guy named Viktor Kristenko.  His friends call him 'Volk.'"

John froze; Volk was the man who supplied Makarov with the WMDs that poisoned Europe back in 2016.  Wasn't he in jail at Guatanamo Bay?  After thinking for a moment, John realized that in early 2017, Volk managed to escape from prison.

"Did this 'Volk' guy make any demands?" asked Price.

"So far, no," said Will.  "But he may after he gets his way with them."

"Unless he kills them first," Nikolai suggested.

"Why take Dyan?" Peter asked later.  "I mean, I know she's friends with Rachel, but why take her?  It's not like..."

"He doesn't have anything against Israelis, right?" asked Price.  "This Volk guy?"

"I dunno," Robie said.  "I'm guessing it's because Volk had a rivalry against her husband and wanted vengeance."

"Funny," Nikolai said.  "Because last time I checked, comrades, Volk's grudge was against the Newmans.  Peter, you are super protective of Rachel, are you not?"

Peter nodded.

"Maybe he took Dyan by accident and wanted to grab Rachel in order to wreak his vengeance on Peter."

"What'd I ever do to him?" Peter asked. 

"According to Volk's files, you were the one who interrogated him back in Guatanamo Bay."

"Yeah," Peter replied.  "And?"

"And this Volk fellow also raped Rachel once?"

"That was back in 2015," said Peter.

"Maybe he grabbed your wife because he wanted vengeance against you for your brutal treatment of him during his imprisonment in Guatanamo Bay."

"What about Dyan?" Peter asked.

"He just took Dyan 'cause the two of them were together at the time," Nikolai replied.  "He just grabbed them both out of convenience."

"Dang," Peter said.  "I just hope Volk doesn't rape my wife again, or Ze'ev's for that matter."

Nikolai, John, Will, and Jessica were all thinking the exact same thing.

"Okay, stay here," Jessica said later, getting up.  "I'm going with Robie to get more information."



January 23, 2017

Somewhere near Tiberias, Israel

Julie Getty


"Oh, my God," Dyan said over and over.  "Oh, my God.  Oh, my God."  Julie turned back toward the back of the container, but the voices had stopped.  Suddenly, they heard two gunshots from outside, which startled the two women almost to death.  She screamed again when one of the men was heard firing back, only to be gunned down by what appeared to be a fully automatic assault rifle.

"God," Sarah was praying.  "God, please...!"



January 23, 2017

Somewhere near Tiberias, Israel

Samantha Redgrave


Being an ex-British SAS soldier and all, Samantha Redgrave, age 21 with brown hair and blue eyes, felt pretty good about herself; she and two of her friends had just gunned down two Middle Eastern insurgents guarding a truck that had a container on the trailer.  She looked at her friend, Terrence Montegomery.

Terrence was 24 with dark hair and dark eyes.  He was originally from Ireland, but immigrated to Britain as a teenager.  He and Samantha met during their eighth grade school year and they were best friends ever since.  This also meant that they joined the SAS-and eventually Task Force 141-together.

"Okay, so what in the blazes are we doing again?" Terrence asked (he rarely swore, unlike Samantha, who swore whenever she was startled or angry).  Sam looked at him and then shook her head.

"What, are you nuts?" she asked.  Then she raised her M4 and then unlatched the door to the container.  She looked around; there was nothing inside there.

That was, except three young women.  Samantha turned to the American bad guy she'd almost gunned down by accident; the Russian-Volk-had run off.  

"Okay, so, ah, who are you people?" asked one of the girls, who looked about fourteen with dark hair and hazel eyes.

"We're Special Forces," Sam said quickly.  "Are you guys okay?"

The other woman-a thirtyish year old American with auburn hair and light blue eyes-nodded.  The third woman, an Israeli, just looked at Terrence skeptically.

"Will you kill us?" she asked, her voice shaking with terror; apparently, Sam and Terrence's TF141 outfits freaked her out.

"Uh, no," Sam said.  "Why in the blazes would we do such a thing?"

"You look really intimidating," said the fourteen-year old.

"Do we really look that bad?" Terrence asked.

The three ladies just nodded.

"So, ah, what are your names?" Terrence asked.

The fourteen-year old introduced herself as Julie Getty, which sounded a bit familiar to Terrence, who thought he'd met some other girl by the same name in his past, but he couldn't put his finger on it.  The Israeli was called Dyan Rotem.

Okay, that name did sound familiar to the two TF141 officers, but even they couldn't put their finger on it.  

The American turned out to be Sarah Clancy, and Terrence thought if she was related to American novelist Tom Clancy or something.  It turned out to be false.

"So...what happened to you three?" Sam asked.

"We were kidnapped!" Dyan said hurriedly.  "Where do you think we are?"

"Uh, I have no idea," Sam said.  "But, err, I think we left Jerusalem.  Now I think we're in Tiberias or something."

"Then...we're going home?" Sarah asked.

"Not yet," Sam said.  "I have to investigate this lead.  We were tasked to find out if this truck contained nuclear weapons."

"Nuclear weapons?" asked Dyan.  Sam nodded.

"Oh, God," Julie gasped.  "If there really are nuclear weapons, we're dead."

"Unless they aren't there," said Terrence.  


Operation Dark Serpent (Chapter 4)

January 24, 2017

Tehran, Iran

Marcus Burns


"Let's go, Burns," said Wallcroft, Marcus Burns' old buddy (who survived the gas attack in London).  "You ready to kick some guy's ass?"  Marcus nodded eagerly; it'd been a while since that gas attack in London and he was glad to be back in the field again.  Marcus was 26 with dark hair and blue eyes.  Wallcroft was 27, a year older than Burns, with brown hair and green eyes.  Behind him was TF141 operative Derek Westbrook, who had been released from the hospital in time for another mission, this time in Tehran.

The mission was to find and intercept a shipment of nuclear weapons, which the Iranians planned to use to "fry Israel to a crisp."  Joining Task Force 141 and the SAS on this mission was Australia's Special Air Service Regiment (SASR).  Burns was fond of the Australians; according to Wallcroft, Australia was a real "pain in the arse" for anybody against them.

"Let's get this over with, knucklehead," said Marcus, who rarely swore, contrary to Wallcroft, who swore frequently.  "Frost, you ready?"

"Ready when you are, Burns," said Frost.  "Let's kill this nuke!"

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