At the command post the Green Beret team recieved orders to set out for Boston for the final offensive against the Soviets on the next available flight out even without a replacement for Sergeant Goldstein. There was a Nighthawk helicopter being unloaded and the men marched toward it and Lieutenant Michaels leaned in the side door. "Hey, how long you guys gonna sit here?"
"Not too much longer. Why?" the pilot asked.
"We have orders to use the first available mode of transportation to get us to Boston and it looks like you guys are it," Michaels replied. "And you don't want to disobay the top brass do you?"
"You gotta be kidding me."
"Nope its from the top now lets get going!"
The flight included several stopovers to pick up men with the same orders and eventually the Green Beret team was shuffeled all around the helicopter due to all the special forces personnel from all the military branches heading towards Baltimore. As the Nighthawk entered the outskirts of Boston it was ordered to drop its human cargo at a resistance base and help the resistance forces retake the city.
"We've got flak!" the copilot shouted. Black and dirty brown puffs began appearing all around the Nighthawk.
"Alright everybody strap in this is gonna be rough," Michaels said. Suddenly a 88mm flak shell smashed through the thin aluminum skin of the Nighthawk exploding in the rear and severing the hydrolic and fuel lines to the rear rotors.
"Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!" the pilot shouted over the squadron command net. "Mayday mayday mayday. Cougar command this is Cougar 23 we have lost control of our tail rotor and are going down! I repeat this is Cougar 23 we have lost control of the aircraft and are going down!"
Two more flak shells slammed into the front of the helicopter, one exploded in the cocpit and the other bounced around the interior burying itself into one of the men. The Nighthawk spiraled down and came to rest on top of a six story building at an angle with the nose three floors below the tail. Moran unhooked his seatbelt and immediately slid down the metal floor of the helicopter to the pilots. "They're dead," he said. "Everybody down here is dead." A hand then thrust up from under the pile of bodies; it was Russell. "Medic! get the medic, Russell is alive!"
"We don't have a medic anymore, his torso is smeared across the floor in the back," Toshi yelled down. "We need to help him goddamnit, throw down his shit and I'll bandage Russell up."
Lieutenant Michaels slid down with the medic's gear, Toshi and Reed followed. They all pulled the bodies off of Russell to find the unexploded flak shell lodged in his chest. "He isn't gonna make it guys," Toshi said. "I'm really sorry for what I'm about to do ,old friend," Toshi took out his SOCOM pistol and shot Russell in the head ending his suffering.
"Alright we need to figure out who is dead and alive," Michaels said. "Where is Young and Jamie?"
They found Jamie's lifeless body dangling from his seat still strapped in and Young was found crawling around blindly on the rooftop, his entire left side mangled by glass and shrapnel. The four survivors packed their gear and salvaged all the weapons and ammunition they could carry and set out to find the resistance forces.
Zaitsev set up a position in a partially destroyed office building a mile away from the airport command center and moved around till he was comfortable. He and Basistiy were ordered on the more dangerous above-ground reconnaissance patrol northwest of Logan Interational as command was expecting a major offensive against the airport compound and this building gave them a good view of the entire patrol area. Basistiy set up his position a few floors above to call out targets to Zaitsev.
"There are four coming this way," Basistiy said. "Two regulars and two snipers, they look pretty beat up. Probably from that helicopter crash we saw a couple hours ago."
"Where are they?"
"You should see them in a second when they pass that rubble to your left."
Zaitsev quickly adjusted himself to get a better view. "A seargeant and one... no three lieutenants. This will be a nice haul," he mumbled. He took careful aim at the first lieutenant and zoomed in so close he could see the name tag. "Michaels huh, a Green Beret at that." Zaitsev took careful aim and pulled the trigger. The bullet slammed into the lieutenant's chest right above his heart, the force of the impact bringing him to his knees and spitting up blood. Zaitsev took aim at him again and shot the lieutenant, splattering the back of his head all over the street. By concentrating on the first man, Zaitsev had lost track of the other three allowing them to escape. He then heard a loud crack and the drywall behind him exploded covering him in a thin layer of dust. "Shit! They are shooting back! Basistiy get down here we have been spotted."
"Right away comra....." the channel went silent.
"Basistiy! Basistiy! Respond damnit respond!" The next thing he saw was Basistiy's body falling out of a window above him and hitting the ground hard. Zaitsev grabbed his rifle and headed up three floors to a new position. As he set up he noticed more soldiers were moving in on his position. Now full platoons were closing in.
Zaitsev fumbled for his radio, "Perimeter guard this is Striker One, over." There was no answer. "Perimeter guard this is Striker One, I have a casualty and enemy units are closing on my position do you copy, over," still there was nothing. "Central command this is Striker One I have lost contact with Perimeter guard, over," Zaitsev recieved nothing but static. "Any recieving unit this is Striker One. I am on the northwest side of the compound. I have lost contact with Perimeter guard and Central command and have encountered the main body of the offensive. I will delay them here as long as I can." Zaitsev took aim on the closest ranking officer and pulled the trigger.