Selling the Deception (Farah Karim x Alex Keller Call of Duty: Modern Warfare story) (Excerpt - Opening Scene)

Farah Karim bristled with contempt as two Russian soldiers ziptied her wrists together. The leader of the Urzikstan Liberation Front hated to admit it, but she had bitten off more than she could chew this time. The mission had been going well enough at first; she’d infiltrated a Russian military compound after she and the rest of the 141 had been tipped off by Nikolai. Price and Laswell would take down a major target who was smuggling chemical weapons, and Farah would be able to free a number of her people who were being held prisoner.

Sneaking in had been easy enough. The base was situated near the border, and she knew the area well. She’d had to kill a small handful of guards stealthily, plant a couple timed explosives and recon the area for Price. 

Until she’d found the cell block, where dozens upon dozens of her imprisoned people were being held. She knew they had a plan, and that it would’ve been best to stick to that plan. But seeing her people suffering in captivity was not something she could stand by and take. When she saw a number of them being prepped for interrogation or worse by the Russian insurgents, she knew she had to do something, impulsive or not. 

Alex, who was incognito on the other side of the base, had been talking to her into her earpiece. “Farah, just stay put, alright? Price and the rest of the team are on their way!”

She had no longer been listening to him. She saw through the camera feeds that some of her people - including women and children - were being taken out of their cells. For what purpose, she couldn’t say. But with these Russian terrorists, it couldn’t be anything good. 

As she was disabling camera access to the cell block, she had frozen stiff when she felt the barrel of a pistol suddenly pressed firmly against the back of her head. 

“Well, what do we have here,” she had heard a condescending Russian tone from behind her before she took a hard blow to the head and everything went dark.

When she came to, she found herself in a cold metal chair with her hands being ziptied behind her back. She heard Russian voices laughing and talking around her, but the blindfold prevented her from seeing any of them. This position was a grim reminder of a very similar position she was once in at the hands of General Roman Barkov all those years ago. Captured and at the mercy of her cruel oppressors once more. 

Someone roughly untied her blindfold and tossed it aside. Immediately she squinted and blinked away the haze from her vision. She appeared to be tied to a chair in the guards’ quarters of the prison block. In front of her, several guards were drinking beers while lounging on an old, worn couch with a tv on in the background while a couple others were playing cards at a table. Two other armed guards stood nearby while they leveled foreboding looks at her. 

And sitting directly in front of her was undoubtedly her would-be tormenter for the evening. Colonel Gregori Kharlov, once an errand boy for the late General Barkov. He had been party to many of the atrocities that Barkov had orchestrated in Urzikstan, but had never been clever enough to be anything more than an attack dog for his predecessor. Planning major operations had never been his strong suit, but if Barkov needed villages razed to send a message, Kharlov performed this task with relish. 

The fat, portly mustached Russian sat in a chair in front of her, leering at her with a sadistic grin. “Welcome, Commander Karim,” he said to her in English, his voice laced with false sweetness. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I wasn’t there when General Barkov had you as his guest, but I know how well you two got along.” 

Farah ignored him, looking around the room. Her earpiece had been taken from her, naturally, as had anything she was carrying that might be able to cut through her restraints. While this repulsive man did not have his predecessor's smarts, their strip-search had been thorough. She had to bide her time and come up with something else. 

“Oh yes. Why don’t you ask General Barkov how well we got along in the end, Colonel?” Farah retorted defiantly with a smile. Killing the brutal murderer of her family had been one of the most satisfying moments of her life, and she admittedly still thought about it from time to time.

Kharlov snorted. “You always did have a smart mouth, didn’t you, my dear?” 

He reached out and began unbuttoning her camo coat, a lustful smile on his fat face as he did. When the rogue Russian colonel unbuttoned it completely, he threw her jacket open as he leered at her tanktop underneath, making her skin crawl. 

“You know, Farah. Roman told me all about you, and I was very surprised that he never had his way with you while you were his prisoner.” He looked back at his men who lounged in the break room behind him. “He had much more restraint than I would’ve had!” he chuckled, prompting a round of laughter from his men. 

She looked around the room again and that’s when she saw him, her heart beating. Alex Keller, her American second-in-command, was disguised as a soldier and leaning up against the back wall. His face was obscured by a balaclava - not uncommon for a good number of the troops in Kharlov’s employ. Her eyes were fixed on her and Kharlov, and she noted that his finger had drifted close to the trigger of his AK. 

Alex had not yet opened up on Kharlov and his men in the room, despite how shaken she knew he would be from seeing her in this position. The fact that he had restrained himself rather than lighting up these bastards suggested to her that Price and his men were not yet in position. She let out a resigned sigh. Good. She was proud of Alex for his restraint. As difficult as this was for him, the last thing she wanted was for him to compromise this mission - and her captive people - on her account. Fighting their way through the base with just the two of them would be a last resort only.