"The Russians ain't gonna let this massacre go unanswered," said Ghost. "It's gonna get bloody." He ruffled the black hair atop his head and stifled a yawn. There was hardly time to take a moment's rest between bringing Jess home and briefing for the next mission, and it was apparent by the bags under their eyes.

"Too right, mate," said MacTavish, leaning over a tablet on the table in front of them with a map on it. "Now, in the eyes of the world, they're the victims. No one's gonna say a word when the Russians club every American they can reach."

Shepherd's mustache bristled as he pursed his lips. "Makarov was one step ahead. Now he's left thousands of bodies at the feet of an American."

MacTavish rubbed his fingers backward through his hair. "We're the only ones who know this was Makarov's op, and our credibility died with Allen..." 

As he shook his head in dismay, Jess felt a heaviness in her gut. She met eyes with Ghost and with a pang of guilt, looked back at the Captain.

"We need proof..." he said quietly.

Jessica cleared her throat. "What about the arms dealer for his op? Do we know where he got his weapons?"

"Of course." Shepherd flipped a stylus between his fingers and slid the tablet closer to him. "Follow the shell," he said. He opened another window and pulled up a couple of profiles. and drew a circle on the map over Brazil. "Alejandro Rojas." 

MacTavish cocked a brow. "Never heard of him, sir."

"You know him as Alex the Red," replied Shepherd. "He supplied the assault."

Jessica folded her arms, resisting the urge to get excited now that she knew who Makarov had been talking to. This was perfect. Now they knew of someone who had more intel than her, and she wouldn't have to blow her cover. 

Captain MacTavish looked over the map. "One bullet to unleash the fury of an entire nation. Which means..."

"He's our ticket to Makarov."

Jessica sat beside Ghost in the armoury, putting together her pistol. "You okay?" she asked.

He snapped the slide forward on his weapon. "I'm none too thrilled that we're going after someone for intel when we could just ask you."

"Rojas has more intel than even I do. Like I said, I didn't find much beyond that handful of blueprints; he likely has something more to tell us."

Ghost hummed. "Maybe so. What if he doesn't?"

She stroked her thumb over the grip on her pistol. "I don't know. I guess... Go back to the drawing board? Hope that we can find someone else attached to Makarov before something worse happens?"

"... Or you could call Makarov and garner intel?"

Jessica shoved a mag into her weapon with an aggressive snap. "Don't you think a couple of days is too soon to come back to someone after finding out they're a terrorist? Even if I go back to him, I'd have to make it believable."

Ghost snickered. "I thought you said men get stupid when they have good sex?"

She threw her cleaning rag at him. "Yeah, I said they get stupid, not get the IQ of a marshmallow," she retorted. "Makarov is keen- I'm hoping he doesn't notice that I'd been in his office- I'm sincerely doubtful that coming back now would be a good idea."

He jerked his shoulders, standing up to leave. "All I'm saying is, if this doesn't work, you have to."

"I know..." 

A white van rolled down a dusty road somewhere in Rio de Janeiro. Behind it, MacTavish, Roach and Lone Wolf were tailing it in an inconspicuous car. From the back seat, Jessica was drumming her fingers on the door panel. "This is a bad idea; we should be following from the front," she said.

MacTavish scoffed. "How the hell do ya fallow from the front, Lone? They turn a corner, we loose 'em."

She slouched lower in her seat, eye on the van. "Not if you do it right..."

The van slowed down, giving the driver enough time to creep up closer onto its bumper. The Captain pulled out a pair of binoculars and tapped the com. "Ghost, the plates are a match," he said.

"Copy," replied Ghost. "Any sign of Rojas' right-hand man?"

MacTavish shook his head. "Negative. They've stopped twice already, no sign of him."

The van pulled in front of a building and stopped. Jessica peered around the seat and Roach's head. The side door on the van opened and a man walked out of the building to meet them. "Hang on, look at that," she said. "Looks like..."

MacTavish tapped the com again. "We've got a positive ID on Rojas' assistant! Whoever these guys are in the van, they're not happy to see him..."

Rojas' assistant suddenly stepped back with a Desert Eagle in hand, firing three rounds, killing the two men in front of him, and the driver of the van. Jess shifted with her ears pinned back. "Shit.."

"Ghost," said MacTavish. "We have a situation here..!"

Galaxy grasped the Captain around the next with her arms and shoved him down onto the seat when the assistant took aim at their car. "Get down!" A hail of bullets pierced the windows, shattering the glass and tearing apart the vinyl dashboard. One bullet caught the driver precisely under the chin, breaking his neck and laying him dead against the steering wheel. 

Gal snorted at the smell of fresh blood from the driver. "Fuck!"

"He's gettin' away! Let's go, let's go!" MacTavish grasped her by the scruff and dragged her out of the car. "Ghost," he said into the com. "Our driver's dead! We are on foot, meet us at the Hotel Rio and cut him off if you can!"

Galaxy deftly leaped over a car and made a sharp turn after the man, Roach short on her tail. He turned into an alley and she clumsily tripped over an empty wire chicken cage. "Son of a bitch, don't let him get away!" she roared, scrambling back to her feet to follow Roach.

"I've got him in my sights, sir!" said Roach over the com.

"Non-lethal takedowns only, we need him alive, Roach!"

Just as he took aim, the assistant disappeared down the alley. He felt a wave of panic, realizing he'd lost the target. "Shit! Lone, I need-"

She didn't spare a moment to hare after the assistant, landing square on his shoulders and taking him down. He tried to crawl away from her and she sank her teeth into his ankle, shaking it until there was a godawful, wet snap, and the man screamed in agony. Galaxy grabbed him by his shoulder and dragged him back toward Roach, her tail wagging proudly.

Ghost hoisted the man up by his lapel. "Come on, you slimy bastard," he growled.

"Thanks for the assist," said Roach, patting the back of her neck.

She grinned. "No problem. I wasn't about to let him get away."

"I was a little afraid that I did..."

"Well, we got him, that's all that matters. Now, let's see what intel he can give us."

Sparks cascaded to the floor as Ghost tapped a pair of jumper cables together. Rojas' assistant struggled in his seat where he was tied up, whimpering and whining in Portuguese. MacTavish had his hands on the door of a garage, hanging his head out to talk to the team. "This is gonna take a while. Roach, take Lone Wolf, Royce, and Meat and search the favela for Rojas. That's where this guy was headed." With a mighty heave, he slammed the door shut and moments later, screams could be heard from behind it.

Gal shook her head. "Glad I'm not that guy. Let's go." She bolted ahead of them and stood looking down into the favela. There were civilians everywhere, but in the confusion of faces, she couldn't see the target.

Royce patted her back and knelt down. "Meat, get these civies out of here," he said.

Meat smiled and leaped down into the crowd, firing his weapon in the air. He said something in Portuguese, and the people ran. He locked on to something on the roof of one of the houses in the clearing, and the group stiffened to see militia members running the rooftops.

Gal shifted and tapped the com. "Bravo Six, be advised, we're engaging enemy militia in the lower village, I repeat, we are engaging enemy militia in the lower village!" she said, trying to stay calm as she spoke. 

Royce grabbed Roach by the rucksack. "Roach, I'm with you!" he said. "Watch the rooftops, go!"

They jumped down into the fray, bullets ricocheting off the concrete barriers and rusting cars around them. Roach and Jessica stayed together, pushing their way deeper into the village. There was barely any cover, and they had the disadvantage of the low ground. 

"Lone," came MacTavish's call over the com. "Gimme a sitrep, over!"

"Lots of militia and civilians, but no sign of Rojas, over!" she replied.

"Copy that, keep searchin', let me know if you see him! Out!"

She nodded to herself and rounded the corner of one of the houses, pulling back when she heard shots from overhead. Meat cried out and fell against the wall, Royce turning back to cover him. 

"Meat is down!" said Royce into the com. "I repeat, Meat is down!"

Jess crouched by their side, aiming up and picking off a man on the roof. "How bad is he?!" she asked.

Royce laid the man's head down and groaned sadly. "He's dead."

"Shit..." She pushed him ahead and followed after. "Go on, catch up with Roach, we can't get separated in this heat!" Just as he got ahead of her, a door burst open, and a man with a 12 gauge took aim at Royce. She shifted and clasped his arm in her jaws, but not soon enough to stop him from shooting the corporal in the back. Furious, she sank her teeth into the back of the man's neck and slammed his head against the ground repeatedly until it was nothing but a grey and red mush.

Royce weakly crawled to cover behind a shattered wooden pallet and tapped into the comlink again. "R-Roach," he winced. "Roach, I'm hit!" 

Roach turned back in time to see another soldier come up on Royce and fire three rounds into his head. "Oh, God..." He started the other direction, his heart was in his throat as he heard more and more soldiers swarming the alley after him; he felt like a fox, and he could feel the breath of the hounds on his heels. 

"Roach," came MacTavish's call over the com. "We've got Rojas' location. He's heading west along the upper levels of the favela, we'll keep him from doublin' back on our side. Keep goin' and cut him off up top! There's no time for backup, so you and Lone are going to have to do this on your own. Good luck. Out."

He turned a corner, slipping between two houses and he crouched to catch his breath. Oh, hell. Where was Lone Wolf? Roach tapped the com. "L-Lone?" he panted hoarsely. "I lost you in the alley, where are you?"

"Here!"

Roach lurched and shielded his face as she poked her head out from under the house beside him. "Jesus! Where were you?!"

"Following you; had to bite a couple of ankles to get here." Galaxy squeezed her way out of the tight space and collided with Roach's shoulder. "C'mon, we can't let Roajs get ahead of us."

A dog suddenly slammed into the chainlink fence behind them, its face sticking through a hole near Roach's arm. Gal grasped its throat and she pulled it through the hole, breaking its neck and tearing out its throat before she pushed Roach. "Go! I'm right behind you!" Roach took off and she was hot on his heels. Above them, a man leaned out the window, yelling something in Portuguese and wildly waving his arms. 

"What's he saying?" asked Roach.

She shook her head, sidestepping as she ran to keep her eyes on him. "No idea, but it looks like he's telling us to go back..."

Roach's arms came across her chest and he shoved her into a house to avoid a rain of gunfire. "I think that's what he was talking about." He shot into the alley ahead, nailing one soldier in the face, and catching his partner in the shoulder. "Lone, we can't stay here, I'm gonna make a push, watch my overhead!" He charged onward, and she kept her eyes on the rooftops. 

It was challenging; there was so much cover, and on top of that, the sunlight was blinding from that angle. She fired blindly at anything that looked like it might have someone behind it until she felt a click. "I'm out!" she said. "Cover me while I relo-"

He started when he felt a spray of blood across his cheek, and looked back to see Jess lying on the ground, her eyes still open. "Shit!" He was fired upon from all directions and he picked up her body and dragged it to the closest cover he could find on a set of stairs going up into the upper favela. "MacTavish," he said over the com. "Lone's down, I'm on my own, do you have eyes on Rojas yet, over?"

"Copy and affirmative," replied Ghost. "We've got eyes on him, he's climbing up onto a roof carrying a black duffle bag!"

MacTavish cut in. "That outta slow him down. Roach, don't let 'em pin you down; if you have to leave Lone behind to keep up with Rojas, do it. He's headin' your direction, we'll keep him from doublin' back, just keep pushing to intercept him, over!"

Roach hissed as a bullet lashed across his shoulder. "Copy, sir, over and out." He clutched his weapon tightly and looked down at the dead woman beside him with a horrible pang of despair. "Sorry, Lone Wolf..." He turned on his heel and bolted up the stairs toward Rojas, feeling light-headed as the adrenaline coursed through his veins. He reloaded upon arriving at the upper favela, civilians and soldiers alike darting from house to house, the sounds of screaming, gunfire, and riled chickens in wire cages throwing his senses in every direction. "Fuck this..." He cooked a flashbang and launched it into the chaos. As the people covered their ears and cried out in confusion, he headed straight down an open street, hoping somewhere along the way he would see a man with a black duffle bag.

"I lost sight of him again," growled MacTavish. "Ghost, talk to me!"

Ghost hissed into the com. "I've got him, he's headed across the rooftops going west, I could go for a clean leg shot, end it here!"

The Captain's voice became tight with worry. "No, we can't risk it! Do not engage!"

"Bollocks..." Ghost rattled. "Roger that, sir."

"Roach, keep goin' uphill, we'll cut him off! He's got nowhere to go."

Roach could feel the heat of the bullets whizzing by his ears. He almost felt sick to his stomach, knowing so much as a flinch in the wrong direction could kill him. Damn, why did he have to go it alone? He cooked another flashbang and bounced it off a wall, landing it perfectly in the middle of a group of tangos adjacent to him. He crested the hill and barely caught sight of Rojas sliding down the tin rooftops away from him. "Got eyes on Rojas, he's just turned further west!"

"He's going over the fence!" Ghost barked. "Are you sure I can't take out his leg, Captain?"

"Not if you don't wanna carry him back to the chopper with the militia breathin' down your neck!" came the Captain's retort.

Rojas turned back long enough to flip Roach a bird as he ran across the balcony of a three-story house. "He's getting away!" Roach cried. 

"No, he isn't!"

He didn't have time to process the shock of hearing Jessica's voice when he saw the massive blue-grey wolf dive out of a window beside the target and crash down onto a car below, Rojas' shoulder clamped tightly between her teeth. 

"Motherfucker," she rasped. "Hold still!" Rojas was wailing and prying his free hand against her face, shrieking against when she quickly snapped her jaws around that hand, too. 

Ghost and MacTavish skidded into the alley with her and Roach, the rest of the team appearing from other streets and alleys above and around them. "Frontrunner," said the Captain over the com. "We've got the package, I repeat, we've got the package."

Ghost chimed in. "Command, ready for dust off, send the chopper, coordinates to fol-" He pressed his finger to his earpiece, and his voice turned to an irked growl. "Bollocks, the skies are clear, send the chopper now!"

Gal flicked an ear, her brows set. "What's going on?" she asked through the mouthful of Rojas.

The Lieutenant shook his head. "Command's got their heads up their arse... We're on our own."