It's a solo Fanfic.
Zakhaev International Airport
Yuri Gusev watched the people walk by as they went to their flights. He held on tightly to the M9 in his holster, watching the travelers pass him by as they went on their merry way. Flight arrivals and depatures were being announced over the Airport's Intercom, flights to Berlin, flights to Beijing, flights to London. Flights everywhere. It was sometimes an announce to hear the drone of the computer's voice over the intercom, but sometimes he was used to it. After all, the job did pay well and he wasn't getting shot by Militants anymore. Once, Gusev had served in the Russian Federation's Army in Chechnya fighting the Islamic terrorists almost fifteen years before; but now he was thirty-nine and defending Russia's "most-glorious" airport. He chuckled to himself, he was probably getting paid more now than he had years before.
Suddenly, Yuri spotted Officer Igor Bardzecki walking towards him, his stomach nearly busting out past his belt. "Hello Yuri!", Igor said, before taking another bite of his Wheat Bar as part of his new 'diet'. "How is work for you today?" Yuri shrugged in his heavy bullet-proof vest. "Umm...it's not that shitty today as it was yesterday," he said, and both began to laugh at Yuri's comment. The stood there in front of the food court, talking to each other about the weather, elections and other things; totally unaware as to what was about to happen.
"God is with us," said the leader, a man with black hair and extreme motives.
The elevator door opened as five men finished checking their weapon's and ammo for the slaughter that was to occur.
"Remember, No Russian."
Yuri had already pulled out his pistol when he heard the gunshots down near the Security Checkpoint, as well as Bardzecki. He and Igor both heard people screaming in horror as they ran down the Terminal, trying to get out of the gunmens sights before they too would be killed. "Christ!", gasped Igor, holding his UMP45 tightly in his hands, "This reminds me of Afghanistan all over again..." Yuri aimmed his pistol down the hallway, he could see the Five of the terrorists coming up the stairs: buisness suits, bullet-proof vest, heavy armament. His eyes widdened, these men were the real deal. "Igor, we have to protect the civilians at any cost", said Yuri, looking over to his sweating friend "You and I know that we are going to die."
Igor was crying now, the tears going down his cheeks; but he was straight-faced. He wiped off the tears and nodded, then took cover behind the food court's walls. Yuri, without thinking through wisely, decided to take cover behind a column near Nate's Restuarant. He waited for a minute, looking from behind the cover to see what was going on. Three civilians ran out of Nate's just as one of the terrorists came walking around the corner, instantly dieing in a hail of bullets. An Airport Security Officer who was just about to fire on the terrorist fell back as the civilians ran out, dieing with them as well. Yuri felt anger and fear as he came around the corner, ready to kill the man responsible for the incident.
Suddenly, Yuri felt bullets go into his vest, sending him flying to the ground in pain. One of the five terrorists had managed to get him in the chest, knocking the breath out of him in one large blow. He didn't move even though his chest vibrated in pain, since he knew the terrorists were still passing him. Unfortunately, Igor didn't, coming out from his cover screaming like a banshee. He was shot many times in the chest by the leading terrorist, before he finally fell to the ground. All Yuri could do was watch in horror as his friend died in front of him, reaching out to Yuri before finally ceasing to move.
Above the the state of Maryland, United States.
Yuri sat inside the cargo plane with the rest of the soldiers, praying to himself as the plane rattled and shook in the air. Some of the soldiers of 5th Platoon were sitting around in a dream-like mood. None of them believed that this war was really occuring, none of them at all. At first they did, almost hours ago, but all these former veterans realized what they were getting into. This was a war for blood, and it would be spilt.
Yuri looked to the muscular man beside him, who smoked a cigarette as Yuri felt. The scar on Oleg's arm told the story of the truck explosion in Afghanistan almost thirty years ago after Mujahideen soldiers had managed to pierce the gas tanks, and how he managed to survive through brutal torture before a small rescue team managed to save him. His favorite gun, the RPD, was hung over his huge shoulders. "What are you worrying about, my friend?", asked Yuri almost innocently.
Oleg looked at Yuri wide-eyed, blowing out a cloud of smoke to the side. "Everything, Yuri. I haven't been in Combat since the Afghan war, and now I'm going to fight the Americans? I often dreamed of doing so as a child when growing up, but now........" Oleg sighed and went back to smoking his cigarette. Yuri understood perfectly, and went back to his own private thoughts. He often dreamed of overcoming the 'Imperialistic' Americans when he was a child, but not now. Now he knew the truth about what war was.