MTLNOVEL Chapter 19 - To CDC
It was decided between Andrew and Price , that after everyone had finished eating , a meeting would be held, between him , Captain Price, his team and Major Griggs at the club building to discuss what was to be done next.
Andrew was currently walking alongside Corporal Whitaker toward the club building, she was giving him a report about what has been done since the departure to Fort Benning, but his thoughts were drifting to the meeting ahead.
Griggs… the name sounds familiar, but I'm not sure from where. The fact that I'm a sergeant and he's a major could be a problem for the current hierarchy. With the highest rank here, he could take command of the resort—and with the Rangers , he'd succeed, even if someone objected to it . Andrew let out asigh. Let's see what happens.
Turning to Whitaker, Andrew asked, "What about the infirmary? Everything in order?"
"Yes," Whitaker replied immediately. "We set it up in one of the smaller conference rooms on the ground floor, but the paramedic's are saying that it still needs more medical supplies, we are not well prepared if something major were to happen."
Andrew nodded. "We'll see what comes out of this meeting first, then we can work on the rest—supplies, defenses, all of it."
Getting closer to the clubhouse, Andrew saw that everyone else was already gathered near the entrance. As he and Whitaker arrived, Captain Price gave a nod and introduced Major Griggs . " Sargeant , this here's Major Griggs," Price said. "Hell of a soldier, and the only man I know who can keep a squad in line with a smile."
Griggs grinned, the brim of his cap casting a shadow over his sunglasses. "That's 'cause I'm prettier than the rest of 'em, Captain." He extended a firm hand toward Andrew. "Good to meet you, Sergeant."— Griggs was a solidly built man with a confident stance, wearing his tactical gear like a second skin, his ever-present sunglasses and easy grin giving him an air of laid-back authority. Andrew shook his hand firmly, introducing himself in turn."Sergeant Andrew Mercer . Likewise, Major."
"With the introduction's over, let's head inside," Price said, motioning toward the door.
Before Andrew stepped in, Whitaker leaned closer. " Sargent , i'll head back to the hotel," she said.
Andrew gave her a short nod in acknowledgment before following the others inside.
They stepped into the golf club building, the air cooler inside but carrying the faint must of a place left unused . Boots echoed on the polished wood floor as they passed a lounge area and headed deeper in. Price led them down a hallway lined with framed photos of the resort's tournaments, stopping at a set of double doors.
Inside, the room was wide and rectangular, with a large conference table in the center and several chairs pushed against the walls. Large windows overlooked part of the course, but the blinds were drawn halfway, letting in just enough light to work by.
Griggs walked straight to the head of the table, dropping into a chair with casual confidence. Price leaned against the wall, arms crossed. Soap took a seat but half-swiveled so he could see both the door and the windows, Gaz grabbed a chair and tilted it back on two legs, Ghost stayed standing in the corner, mask impassive, scanning the room, and Nikolai, with his ever-present smirk, pulled out a chair and sat sideways, resting his arm on the backrest like he was in no rush. Andrew remained on his feet, a folded resort map in his hand.
Price started it off. "Alright, we've all had a rough few days, so let's keep this tight. First order—where we stand, and what's next."
They covered the basics first—unknowns about the virus, possible origins. Gaz mentioned the CDC. "If there's anyone who'd have answers, it's them—problem is, we don't know if is still secured ."
Griggs leaned forward. " We lost contact with the higher-ups as well. No comms from command, no response from anyone in D.C. We even tried the Pentagon's emergency channels—nothing ."
Andrew nodded grimly , from what he remembers , Washington fell as well .
Griggs studied him for a moment, then smirked faintly. "Price told me you're ex-Rangers. You were part of the operation in Helmand Province?"
Andrew returned the look. "Yeah. You were there?"
"Different squad," Griggs said with a chuckle. "Guess it's a small world after all. Look—from what Price says, and what I saw at that hotel? You've got a handle on things. We're in the dark here, so I'll back your play with the civilians. But—" his tone sharpened—"you don't give orders to my Rangers. Anything involving them goes through me first. Clear?"
Andrew nodded without hesitation. "Clear. Works for me."
Price gave a small approving grunt. "Sounds like we've got an understanding."
Nikolai leaned forward with a grin. "Is good arrangement. Less arguing, more working. I like this."
Soap leaned back in his chair. "Aye, better that than playin' tug-o-war over who's boss. We've got bigger problems."
They moved on to defense. Andrew unfolded the resort map—a detailed printout taken from the front desk's brochure rack—and spread it across the table. He tapped a green stretch on the edge of the property. "The forest here's a problem—poor visibility, easy cover for anyone who wants to sneak in. It's exactly how my squad and i got inside back when raiders held this place."
Gaz asked, "So what's the plan, clear it?"
"Exactly," Andrew said. "A hundred-meter clearing around the fence line. Give us open sightlines. We'll need to find the right gear for it—something heavy-duty. Maybe there's something at the construction site we passed on our way back. "
Price nodded. "That'd open it up. If anything were to head our way, we'll spot it imidietly."
Griggs tapped the map where the iron fence was marked. "This here's another issue. Won't stop a vehicle, and it won't last against a determined push."
Andrew agreed. "I've been thinking about building concrete walls. Not just reinforcing the fence , but actually building something solid, we have to manpower to do it. And trenches on the outside as a secondary barrier."
Other points were brought up—scavenging riot gear for close encounters with walkers, tightening patrol schedules, watch tower's , and devising tactics against walkers .
Soap finally asked, "So… why're we callin' 'em walkers?"
Andrew shrugged. "Because they're walking dead—and because it has a less negative psiholigic effect on the people ."
Nikolai gave a short chuckle. "Yes… walker sounds nicer. ' Living dead ' makes people panic. Walker just sounds like slow man on Sunday stroll."
Price leaned over the map, his voice low but decisive. "We'll need to make a run to the CDC. If we sit on our hands waitin' for answers, things'll only get worse."
Griggs gave a firm nod. "I'll put together a squad to go with you—extra rifles won't hurt."
"Appreciate it," Price replied.
Andrew tapped the forest section on the map. "While you're gone, I'll see to it that we start clearing this first. The sooner we've got a clean perimeter, the better."
Nikolai leaned back with a faint grin. "Da, I will help. Cutting trees is easier than cutting throats… most of the time."
Griggs leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "I'll also assign a few of my Rangers to work with your National Guard detail. Help cover more ground on those patrols you were talking about. This place is big—too big for your people to handle alone."
Andrew nodded appreciatively. "That'll make a difference. Thank you, Major."
Griggs gave a short nod in return. "Just keep me in the loop on where they're posted. I want eyes everywhere, same as you."
The room went quiet for a moment. Ghost's gaze flicked briefly to Andrew before returning to the map. Price finally broke the silence. "Alright. We've got a plan. Let's make it happen before our luck runs out."
...
With the meeting over, each headed out of the golf club building, the air outside warm and still under the late afternoon sun. The resort grounds were quiet, save for the faint hum of the main building's air conditioning units and the distant clink of dishes from the hotel's makeshift mess hall.
For now, Price and his team moved off together, speaking in low voices. Griggs lingered for a moment before heading toward the Rangers, clearly already thinking ahead.
Andrew stood at the steps, scanning the grounds. The place still looked almost normal—green lawns, trimmed hedges, the sound of cicadas in the trees. But he knew that calm wouldn't last. Patrols would need to be set. The forest clearing planned. And the fence… well, that would have to wait until the tools and manpower were ready.
He took a slow breath, letting the quiet moment settle. Soon enough, the resort would feel very different.
-- Captain Price POV --
Walking away from the golf club building, Price fell into step with Soap, Gaz, and Ghost. Their boots crunched over the gravel path, the late sun throwing long shadows ahead of them.
"So," Soap started, his tone more casual than the subject deserved, "you reckon CDC's still buttoned up, Cap?"
Price tilted his head slightly, puffing out a slow breath. "If they had their wits about 'em, they'll have locked the place down hard. Fences, checkpoints, armed guards… lot o' good that does if someone inside makes a mistake."
Gaz glanced over. "Or if the dead got in somehow. One breach, it's over."
"Could be worse," Soap said with a half-shrug. "They could've been abandoned. Or overrun before anyone knew what hit 'em."
"Or," Price cut in, "the military's still holding the line, and we'll be walking into the safest building left in the country." He didn't sound like he believed it, but it was worth saying aloud.
They let the thought hang for a moment before Ghost's voice rumbled from behind the mask. "And if it's not safe, we make it safe. That's the job."
The conversation shifted, almost naturally, to older business. "Funny thing," Soap muttered, "before this all kicked off, we were meant to be on the next flight after talking to Shepherd. Whole op lined up. Russia. Makarov."
Price gave a low, humorless chuckle. "Yeah. Plans change. Don't think he expected a bloody plague to rewrite the playbook."
Gaz raised a brow. "You think Makarov's still moving pieces around while all this is happening?"
"Wouldn't put it past him," Price said simply.
They reached the JLTVs and began running through checks—gear stowed, comms functioning, supplies topped off. Price popped a rear hatch, scanning the loadout. "Could use a bit more ammo," he said. "Just enough to be sure."
"Copy that," Soap replied, heading toward the parked trucks loaded with crates.
Meanwhile, across the lot, Major Griggs was hand-picking a squad—eight Rangers in total—to accompany Price's team to the CDC. Price caught the man's eye and gave him a nod.
When they reconvened, Price mentioned taking two boxes for the .50 cal and a couple for their rifles. Griggs nodded once. "I'll talk to Sergeant Mercer about where we can store the rest of the ammo and equipment from the trucks. No point in letting it sit out in the open."
"Fair enough," Price replied.
They pulled two of the three JLTVs closer to the supply trucks, tailgates down, the metallic thud of crates and clatter of ammo cans filling the air as they took what they needed.
Before they wrapped up, callsigns were established in over a quick exchange:
Bravo-One – Price
Bravo-Two – Ghost
Bravo-Three – Soap
Bravo-Four – Gaz
Ranger-One through Ranger-Eight – the accompanying squad
By the time the last box was strapped down, the sun was starting to dip, casting the lot in gold. The run to CDC was looming, but for now, the prep was done.
The engines of the JLTVs rumbled low in the afternoon heat. At the resort's main gate, Andrew, Nikolai, and Major Griggs stood waiting. Griggs kept his arms crossed, his sharp gaze scanning the departing convoy, while Nikolai gave a short wave, his ever-present smirk plastered on his face. Andrew stepped forward, resting a hand briefly on the door of Price's JLTV.
"Good luck out there," Andrew said.
Price gave a curt nod from the passenger seat. "We'll be back."
With that, the lead JLTV rolled forward, Soap at the wheel, Ghost in the back with his rifle across his lap, Gaz riding shotgun at the .50 cal. The second JLTV followed close behind, the Rangers inside checking their weapons one last time.
They avoided the city proper—what would've been a direct, ten-kilometer route was now a death trap of abandoned cars, debris, and God-knows-what lurking in the shadows. Instead, they looped along the outer roads, skirting neighborhoods and industrial zones. The detour cost them nearly forty minutes. By the time they were closing in on the CDC, the sun was still up but sinking low .
Price grabbed the radio handset. "Ranger-One, this is Bravo-One. We're closing on the objective. Status, over."
The response came with the crackle of static. "Bravo-One, this is Ranger-One. We copy, we are right behind you . All clear ."
As they drew closer, the distant rattle of automatic gunfire reached them, faint but growing sharper with every turn. Another corner, and they saw it—the CDC compound under siege.
The defenders were dug in behind hastily thrown-together barricades of sandbags, concrete barriers, and sections of chain-link fence reinforced with barbed wire. A pair of Humvees were parked nose-out at the main entrance, their mounted guns chattering in short, controlled bursts. Beyond the outer line, a large number of walkers pressed forward, dozens of them, their moans blending into a single, low roar as they clawed at the barriers , few trying to climb over the barricade's.
Price's eyes narrowed. "Looks like they're barely holdin' it together…"
Price took in the situation with one sharp glance. The barricades were holding, but only just—and the soldiers behind them looked like they'd been at it for hours.
He keyed his mic. "All call signs, this is Bravo-One. Dismount! Gunners stay on those fifties—everyone else, on me. We're joinin' the fight."
The JLTVs lurched to a halt, brakes squealing. Doors swung open and boots hit the pavement. Soap, Ghost, and the Rangers moved quickly, spreading out along a line of parked cars and low concrete planters, rifles coming up in near-unison.
The .50 cals opened up first, their deep, percussive thuds echoing down the street. Each burst shredded clusters of walkers, turning them into collapsing heaps. A few of the infected—faster than the rest—had been jogging awkwardly toward the barricades, but the sudden roar of heavy guns drew their dull attention. Several stumbled mid-step, their legs tangling until they went sprawling face-first into the asphalt.
"Pick your shots!" Price barked, sighting down his rifle. He squeezed off a controlled burst , dropping a walker with half its jaw missing, then swung to another pressing dangerously close to the fence.
Soap let out a short laugh as he worked the trigger. "Like shootin' targets at the range—ugly, smellier targets!"
The Rangers joined in, disciplined bursts cutting down the stragglers that the gunners couldn't line up or were to close to the national guard soldiers . One soldier crouched behind the first JLTV, firing over the hood. Another knelt by a roadside barrier, methodically working through his magazine.
Within minutes, the street outside the CDC was littered with unmoving corpses, the remaining walkers limping and staggering under the withering crossfire. The defenders at the barricade took the moment to reload and breathe, a few casting wary glances toward the newcomers who had just turned the tide.
Price lowered his rifle slightly but kept his eyes on the street. "Hold the line—make sure none slip through."
The fight wasn't over, but the pressure was broken.
Hi everyone , i hope you enjoyed this chapter as well. I wanted to say that, while Andrew is the MC , in the future there will be chapter's from the POV of other characters as well .