While Andrew focused on securing the shipping containers, Captain Price, Soap, Gaz, and Ghost returned to the CDC with Dr. Edwin Jenner in tow. Nikolai remained in the helicopter, circling nearby on standby for extraction, his presence overhead a constant reassurance.
The plan was straightforward on paper but fraught with risk in execution. Soap, Gaz, and a handful of Rangers would first be tasked with clearing the approach—shifting abandoned cars and debris to open the main road. The herd needed a clear path, wide enough to funnel them en masse toward the CDC without bottlenecking. Once the street was open, they would use the wail of police cruiser sirens to draw the walkers out of the city blocks, herding them like cattle.
When the dead were to reach CDC . The PA system—both the loudspeakers outside and from within—would be powered up, luring the horde straight through the building's reinforced doors. Every groan, every shuffle would carry them deeper inside until the CDC itself became a trap.
The final step fell to Dr. Jenner. Before the horde were to enter the building , he would manually initiate the facility's failsafe, the self-destruct, double-checking each step to ensure that there won't be any malfunction. Once the sequence was active, the team would make their way to the rooftop. There, Nikolai would swoop in for pickup.
Price had summed it up best simple, but bloody dangerous.
...
Inside the dimly lit halls of the CDC, Ghost stood close to Dr. Edwin Jenner as the scientist moved from terminal to terminal, checking diagnostics with meticulous care. His fingers flew across the keyboard, eyes scanning lines of code and data one last time.
The sound of boots on tile drew their attention—Price stepped into the room, radio in hand. "Report just came in. Roads are clear, blockade's about to be opened. Soap and Gaz are ready to lead the herd this way." His tone was steady, but the weight behind the words left no doubt about the danger outside.
Turning his attention to Jenner, Price asked flatly, "Doctor, you set on your end?"
Jenner exhaled through his nose, giving a quick nod without pausing his work. "The PA system is primed, both external and internal speakers. Once activated, it'll pull the dead straight into the building. The self-destruct failsafe is armed and preparing to cycle." He tapped a few more keys, screens flickering as systems finalized. "I'm just running double checks—making sure nothing vital is left behind in the archives. If this place is going to burn, I won't risk anything being lost unfinished."
Ghost shifted his weight, silent but watchful, mask reflecting the glow of the monitors. The faint hum of the generators underscored the tension in the room.
Price gave a firm nod, raising his radio. Switching to the proper channel, he keyed in, his voice calm but carrying the authority of command. "Alpha actual to Bravo one and two—our end's green. You're clear to start."
A few seconds of static crackled back before Gaz's voice came through, steady but tight. "Copy that, Alpha actual. We're moving."
...
The two stood by the black-and-white police cruiser, its paint scuffed and windows spider-cracked . Soap drummed his fingers on the roof of the car, a wry grin tugging at his face despite the tension. "Well, nothing like drivin' the dinner bell straight into hell."
Gaz shot him a look as he slid behind the wheel. "You do the jokes, Johnny. I'll make sure we don't stall and get eaten alive."
Soap chuckled, slamming the passenger door shut as he got in. "Aye, fair enough. But if we end up surrounded, I'm blamin' your drivin'."
At the blockade, the Rangers moved with precision. Engines coughed to life as they started shifting the derelict cars that had been blocking the road. Metal groaned and tires screeched as the barricade was dismantled, clearing a straight path.
Almost immediately, the change stirred the dead. The horde—hundreds strong—shifted like a living tide, their guttural moans rising in chorus as they turned toward the source of noise. At first, they lumbered toward the Ranger vehicles, clawing and staggering after the revving engines.
Then Gaz flipped the switch. The cruiser's sirens wailed to life, a shrill, piercing cry that echoed off the empty buildings and drowned out everything else. The effect was immediate—the walkers turned, en masse, dragging themselves after the flashing lights and screaming siren.
" It seems to be working," Gaz muttered, gripping the wheel tighter.
Soap leaned out his window, watching the tide shift directions. "Like moths to a bloody flame."
Behind them, the Rangers quickly killed their engines, one by one until they sat in silence, ensuring the horde stayed locked onto the police cruiser's path. Their orders were simple—hold position, stay quiet, and wait for the dead to pass.
As the first rows of walkers began their slow pursuit after Soap and Gaz, the ground itself seemed to rumble under the weight of dragging feet.
At first, Gaz kept the cruiser rolling at a steady crawl, just fast enough to keep the horde moving but slow enough not to lose them. The sirens wailed, bouncing off buildings, drawing the dead in from side streets and alleys like water pouring into a flood.
Soap leaned on the passenger-side door, craning his neck to check the rearview mirror. At first, the shambling figures kept their sluggish pace—but then his grin faltered. "Ah, you've got to be kiddin' me… they're bloody joggin' now."
Gaz flicked a glance into the mirror and swore under his breath. The mass of walkers had picked up speed, their staggering movements turning into a grotesque, uneven jog as they closed the distance.
"Don't fancy them scratchin' the paint," Soap muttered, half a joke, half serious.
"Yeah, well," Gaz gritted, pushing the accelerator down, "I don't fancy them scratchin' me either." The cruiser lurched forward, engine growling as he put more distance between them and the advancing tide.
Soap twisted around in his seat, eyes wide as he watched the swarm surge after them. "Bloody hell, they're hungry. Didn't sign up for bein' the main course, Gaz."
"Relax," Gaz shot back, though his hands were tight on the wheel. "We're not lettin' 'em catch us. Just means we're gonna beat the schedule."
He grabbed the radio, voice clipped but controlled. " Alpha actual, this is Bravo-one. Be advised, we're bringing the package in a little earlier than planned—things picked up back here."
Static crackled for a second before Price's voice came back, calm but edged with urgency. "Copy that. Keep 'em on you and bring 'em straight to us. We're ready on our end."
Soap smirked despite the tension, leaning back against the seat. "Aye, nothing like deliverin' death straight to the front door, eh?"
Gaz just kept his eyes forward, jaw set, as the waves of walkers surged after the screaming cruiser toward CDC.
Ghost crouched at the shattered remains of the CDC's front entrance, rifle braced against his shoulder as he scanned the street beyond. The distant wail of sirens grew louder. Then—headlights. The police cruiser came tearing around a corner, with a seething mass of walkers spilling after it like a ruptured dam.
"Eyes on target," Ghost said into his comm, voice low and calm. "Bravo team bringing the party right to us."
Inside, Price had been waiting, radio pressed to his chest rig. At Ghost's call, he turned to Dr. Edwin Jenner, whose hands hovered uncertainly over the console. "Alright, Doc," Price ordered, tone steady but firm, "time to wake the dead. Power up the PA, and arm the failsafe. We're on the clock."
Jenner swallowed hard, nodding quickly. His fingers flew over the keys, lights blinking to life across the terminal.
Outside, the first crackle of speakers echoed through the dead city. Then came the noise: a howling emergency alarm, its metallic wail rattling the glass panes and cutting through the night like a blade. The sound rolled outward in all directions, irresistible bait for the dead.
The police cruiser killed its siren as it reached CDC, tires screeching. Gaz floored it past the building and down a side street and vanished. Behind them, the horde shifted focus instantly. The sea of bodies shambled, then surged, funneled toward the CDC by the blaring alarm.
Ghost jogged back inside, boots echoing on the tiled floor, and regrouped with Price and Jenner in the dim hallway. Jenner straightened, chest heaving. "Failsafe armed. Timer set. She'll blow clean."
"Good man," Price said, clapping him once on the shoulder before raising his comm. "Nikolai, we're set. Need pickup on the roof."
"Da, on my way. I will be waiting," Nikolai replied, rotors already audible somewhere above.
The sound of glass shattering ripped through the building. Walkers were pouring in, pulled deeper by the pulsing alarms. Their guttural moans echoed against sterile white walls, growing louder by the second.
"Time to move," Price barked. Ghost covered their retreat, firing short, precise bursts as they fell back toward the stairwell. A walker lunged from the side corridor, and Ghost slammed it down with a vicious strike of his rifle butt before driving a boot into its skull.
Price swung his weapon up at the next, squeezing off two rounds before dragging Jenner toward the stairs. "Keep pushing!"
They forced their way through the narrow stairwell, walkers clawing at the railings, reaching for them as the team shoved upward step by step. By the time they kicked through the final door, Nikolai's helicopter was waiting for them on the rooftop.
"Come on!" Price shouted, firing into the advancing horde as Ghost shoved Jenner towards the helicopter. The first wave of walkers burst onto the roof, hands outstretched, jaws snapping. Ghost turned, firing into the tide while Soap and Gaz leaned out the chopper's side, laying down covering fire.
One by one they scrambled into the bird, Ghost the last to haul himself inside as Nikolai pulled power. The helicopter lifted, tilting sharply away as walkers clawed over the rooftop, swiping at the air where they'd just been.
From the air, the devastation was clearer: hundreds of walkers pressed against the building, pounding on doors, battering glass, while the majority were already funneled inside by the relentless scream of the PA. The windows bulged with blackened silhouettes.
Price checked his watch, his voice steady as ever despite the sweat slicking his brow. "Eight… seven… six…"
Below, the ground quaked with the sheer weight of the horde. "Five… four… three…" Walkers outside slammed their bodies against the walls, desperate to get in.
"Two… one."
The world went white.
The CDC imploded in a roar of light and sound, a bloom of fire and shattered concrete ripping outward with terrifying force. Windows across the city cracked from the blast wave. The building's core collapsed inward before detonating outward again, sending chunks of rebar and stone spiraling into the streets.
From above, Price shielded his eyes as debris showered the horde. Walkers outside were ripped apart, hurled into the street like broken dolls. One massive slab of concrete smashed into a cluster, reducing them to pulp in a spray of blood and dust. Another steel beam spiraled end over end before burying itself into the road, skewering three of the dead clean through.
As the firestorm settled into a rolling column of smoke, the moans dwindled to nothing.
Price exhaled, shoulders heavy but resolute. "Target destroyed. Mission complete."
Ghost sat back in his seat, silent as ever, while Soap whistled low over the radio, staring at the rising plume. "Well… that'll keep the neighbors quiet for a bit."
Nikolai only grinned, banking them away from the smoldering ruin.