Author's Note: I have had this plot for a story floating in my head for months. It initially was supposed to just be a one-shot but has turned into a multi chapter AU taking place beginning before COD MW2.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot and the OC's. All canon characters belong to their prospective owners.
Warning: Swearing, Violence.
Special Thanks: I would like to thank Sassy Satsuma and Urgent Orange for inspiring me to work on this. Your writing has brought forth a new desire to challenge my characters in (hopefully) non cliched ways. Bones in particular helped me frame my characters Elyse and Margaux. Urgent Orange's take on Price and Soap has provided more depth into their characters than I could have ever imagined. Thank you!
"The magnitude of a progress is gauged by the greatness of the sacrifice that it requires."
Margaux Lèvesque had never been one for blatancy. Her final words on the day she left in search of the Godfather of her children, were no exception. A peculiar decision in Esmèrie's mind, as her mother never placed much emphasis on fatherly types. While their relationship was far from platonic, Parrain nor Maman were in positions to ever consider themselves amorous. Elyse reasoned that it was because it would leave them vulnerable. The visage of her twin sister flashed in her mind as her heart flinched from the protruding pain of being separated from her twin. The breathtaking view of the Indian ocean brought some comfort as the young brunette felt the evening waves rush to kiss the last of the late summer air.
A growing shadow caught in her peripherals, as she glanced behind her to see a lithe man with dark eyes and matching hair. His rectangular glasses gleamed causing an unsettling feeling in her stomach. Esmèrie supposed she had no one to blame but herself regarding her mistrust of him. Her decision to contact a Black Dahlia member was out of sheer desperation. Hiring the organization meant two primary stipulations would have to be met. One, she'd go where they deemed safest for however long. And two, she'd forgo any substantial privacy. The latter perturbed her more than she'd let on as she had to at least appear accustomed to their sporadic meetings. He introduced himself as Cillian Hawke. His hallowed cheekbones combined with his slanted hair over his face gave his eyes a haunting darkness. That night they met in hotel lobby, she knew she'd made a mistake. His voice was too smooth. A silvery twist in his Irish accent making her feel as though his words always held a secretive second meaning.
Squeezing her wrist, she forced her bright hazel eyes to lock with his. He towered over her by several inches, sinewy arms never far from her own. He'd never actually touched her. Rather, he almost seemed to enjoy watching her squirm under his gaze. "You've been out here awhile. Why not come inside?"
"I was waiting for the water to cool so I could go for a swim." The words rolled off her tongue faster than she intended, giving away her nervousness.
His lips twitched into a smile. "Very well, then."
Forcing her feet to move, she descended the wooden staircase leading to the private beach, shielded by a cove. Sliding down the hill, Esmèrie didn't mind the sand dusting her brightly colored tunic, nor the sudden sloshing foam inside her strappy sandals.
A conclave folded into the cove as she tucked herself out of sight. A small backpack with some diving gear waited for her. Undressing quickly, she changed into her diving suit before overlooking the cliffside. Diving amongst the jagged rocks had its risks, but it was a small price to pay for a bit of isolation. Diving in as the tide splashed against her hiding place, she entered her sanctuary. The waves extended their welcome to her as she closed her eyes, allowing the natural rhythm of the tide to take her.
She'd always found acceptance in the sea. Discovering the secrets of the unknown brought her solace in a time in which she had been expected to be vain, bitter, and callous to anything outside of the family business. The granddaughter to an arms dealer, Esmèrie's disdain for violence grew at a young age. Her resistance to follow in her family's footsteps hadn't bothered her mother or even her beloved grand-père. Her uncles however were a different story. Feeling the invisible marks from their abuse on her body, she shook away the thoughts. Brightened hazel eyes lit up at the sight of a bloom of nomad jellyfish meandering through the water. Their brightened tentacles glimmered white as they gracefully passed. A bloom of babies struggled to follow one of the smallest jellyfish as the presumed parents swam ahead. The sight reminded her of the litter of cousins back home in France. Namely, Ciel. The bespectacled preteen with eyes as blue as the sky and freckles as many as the sun's rays. As a fellow anxious introvert, she immediately bonded with him from the moment they met. Her decision to leave weighed on her shoulders as she continued towards the center of the cove. A ledge extended, granting plenty of space for her small underwater structure. Her alcove of seclusion had taken only a few months to build as most of the material she'd found from abandoned submarines and forgotten slabs of marble from a sunken cruise ship. The steps leading to the entrance splashed under her feet as she slipped inside. There was enough room for a kitchenette, washroom, and a sleeping nook. A large pane window provided a view of the ocean below as Esmèrie stripped off her suit before reaching for the sundress and book she'd been reading. Her laptop rested on a small desk in the corner. Gears, pulleys, and netting from her latest project waited patiently for her return. Finished projects hanged along the walls as she created various inventions to help with removing and neutralizing radiation at the source. She'd always been fascinated with the works of Marie Curie and her work in radiation, beginning her inventions at the age of 8. She began entering competitions by 13 and eventually developed the alias The Inventor to protect her privacy...among other reasons.
She'd just sat down with a snack whenever her laptop dinged. An incoming message from a fellow scientist under the user Dinesh popped up on her screen. She had no idea what Dinesh looked like but based on his text-speak he was around her age and of similar acumen.
Dinesh: How's the Neutrality Project coming?
The Inventor: Showing more signs of success. The netting has proven effective at removing radiation from water but still need more effort before I properly see success in removing it from the metals we collected.
Dinesh: That's great! Are you still near Kerala?
The Inventor: I am.
Dinesh: I'd love to finally meet you. Your prototypes have helped several villages. I'd like to show my thanks over a couple drinks.
A smile spread across her plump lips as Esmèrie glanced towards her netting. Made from the materials that the fisherman used, she added a few solar powered buoys that glowed once charged. The eco-friendly material dissolved the radiation through reverse osmosis. A breakthrough for the environment affected by nuclear leakage. Not enough to satiate her appetite, the scientist was in the beginning phases of true neutralization. Utilizing similar material in her iridescent warp shaped lanterns, Esmèrie had found a way to speed up the process of stabilizing isotopes but had yet to discover a means to properly neutralize the materials. The thought sparked a reminder of the reoccurring weakness she felt. Taking another bite of her scone, she hoped to prevent the oncoming fatigue that had plagued her body in the months since she'd arrived.
Ending the chat, Esmèrie felt the itch to continue working despite the growing symptoms she experienced. In a way she felt it was almost deserved as she constantly battled with whether leaving her family behind was the best decision. In the end, she supposed it wouldn't matter. Her life wasn't meant to be her own. She could accept that. What she couldn't accept is not making the best of the circumstances that befell her.
Elyse's heart sunk into her stomach as she awoke with dread that morning. Checking her phone, Elyse squinted at the intrusive light. She'd woken up exactly five minutes before her alarm. Again. Cursing her luck, she crawled down from her bunk to splash some water on her face. Anxiety still dilated her pupils as she breathed. With time they settled providing a moment of peace in the flickering mirror light. It'd been awhile since Elyse looked at herself. Her once wide set eyes had narrowed from stress. The hazel brightened with effervescent green had become jaded. Small sacrifices, ultimately. She had been warned that enlisting would require a piece of herself. And in her first year, she'd risen to the task each time. Her cheeks had thinned, providing a better bone structure. Her dimples remained, a comforting reminder of what little the Service hadn't taken from her. Her toffee brown hair had just grown long enough to hold in a ponytail as it dusted her shoulders evenly now. She didn't inherit her Mum's magnificent curls or her striking beauty, but she still held her strength and determination.
Elyse heard her roommate shuffle in her bed, as she apologized for waking her. A simple shrug was her response. Typical, as making friends since enlisting had been a joke. She shook her head before reaching her closet. Might as well get dressed and head to breakfast.
A surge of anxiety resurfaced again that morning. She'd been running and nearly keeled over, drawing the ire of her commanding officer. A man of exceptional kindness, he'd pulled her into his office to discuss the matter.
"You're not one for slacking, what's going on?"
Her eyes dropped as she contemplated her answer. "Just an off day, sir."
He nodded, convinced enough to not push the matter. "Fine, just get it together. A General's coming in to see the division."
Elyse nodded. Her return to her training was renewed with a fervent tenacity as she doubled her speed, striking the targets with precision. Being one of a dozen women in the newly formed Paragon division was an accomplishment all its own as she jogged back to the rest of members, a smirk etched in her features. She heard the whispers amongst the regiment. Arrogant, aloof, easily angered. She'd heard it all... Small sacrifices that'll lead to the only reason I'm here.
A familiar whisper caught in the wind as she felt her heart race again. Her blood running cold with trepidation. She blinked away the tears pricking at her eyes, as a playful nudge jolted her from her thoughts. She tensed overlooking her shoulder to see lips moving, her ears struggling to hear above the sudden sobbing filling her mind. It only lasted a moment as concerned blue-grey eyes locked with hers. Joseph Allen, one of her few friends in the mixed forces regiment furrowed his brow at me. "You okay, Lèvesque?"
Elyse nodded forcing a smile. "Yeah, no worries mate."
"Always with the mate, stuff. You Brit." He teased as she playfully punched him in the arm. "Come on, we're needed inside. Hey, did you hear about the new iPhone coming out? I hear it has…"
His voice drifted from her ears, as she couldn't shake the dread in her bones. What could possibly be happening in that prison Esmè calls a home?
She felt her hand brush with Allen's as he stopped to smirk. "Didn't realize we were at the holding hands stage of their friendship."
He'd receive a playful nudge in the ribs as she chuckled. "Cheeky."
Their attention turned to the General as the room fell silent. A twisting in her gut began again as she listened to what General Shepherd had to say. Very little of his speech stuck out to her, as her mind drifted to her twin. She felt her body internally tighten as if her muscles were curling, her stomach folding in half, her lungs collapsing.
"Which is why we'll be connecting the Paragon division with the 141."
That caught her attention, her eyes sharpening. Women had only been permitted to enlist among the Infantry for the last couple of years. And now that the opportunity for presented itself for her to join the best handpicked fighters on the planet, she'd be one step closer to her reason for joining up with the regiment.
In the meanwhile, Esmè will just have to manage on her own. A pang of guilt struck her heart at the callousness of her words. Her eyes focused forward as the General continued to speak. It wouldn't be forever. Just long enough for me to fulfill my purpose.
"Wait, what?" Meat sat up from his reclined position on the couch. "Why the hell is Shepherd connecting another task force with ours? Are we no longer the best handpicked warriors on the planet?"
"Because," Soap released an exasperated sigh. "He feels that it's necessary."
"With all due respect Captain, this is bullshit. What are these kids going to do when shit hits the fan? Cry out for their mommies? And about women joining, what the hell does Shepherd expect to have happen if they are captured? Raped?"
Soap inhaled sharply, irritation clear in his features. "We're all quite aware of the risks involved. The adjoining task force will be no different."
"None of these brats better slow us the fuck down." Meat hissed shooting a sharp glare at his Captain. Soap rolled his eyes, preparing to leave whenever he heard a cockney accent behind him. "When are they arriving?" Ghost propped himself against the wall, arms crossed, eyes unwavering despite the sigh escaping Soap's lips.
"Today. Expect to see quite a number of new faces around." He left before the rumblings of the others reached his ears.
In truth, he had no issues with women joining the military and was quite the supporter of them enlisting amongst the ranks involving special forces. There were risks involved, of course. But MacTavish had prided himself on remaining open minded to the idea that new people would bring new solutions. One of the very few remaining traits of his that hadn't become jaded in his time in the 141. Unfortunately, he knew all too well that the others wouldn't share his mentality. Archer, Meat, and Scarecrow were among the highest strung in the bunch, but none would compare to the vexation held by Ghost.
Sighing, MacTavish cracked his neck before checking his watch. They'd be arriving soon.
The vehicle came to a stop as a bag jostled her awake. "Wake up." She'd heard the driver call. "We're here."
The orders were simple. Line up and wait to meet their Commanding Officers. Elyse was quick to deduce that typical regulations wouldn't apply here upon seeing Mactavish's mohawk and Riley's mask.
"Welcome to the 141. I'm Captain Mactavish. And this is Lieutenant Riley. Now we realize that due to the new requirements the resting quarters are going to be unusual. Women will be placed near the Medical wing until further notice."
The short introduction followed by the small distance between the separating groups was enough for Elyse to notice the tension radiating throughout the base. If there was one thing Elyse was certain of, it was when she wasn't welcome somewhere. Their uniforms gave them away. Dressed in black t-shirts and forrest green cargo pants, they clearly weren't blending in anytime soon.
Beside her was a shorter strawberry blonde with her hair tied into a messy bun. She did all she could to avoid making eye contact from the other base members. The 141 had earned a reputation for being the best, on the flip side, they'd also become known as a prima-donna squad filled to the brim with attitudes to match. She could feel similar stares behind her as three other women ranging in various height and ages attempted to cover their intimidation. Reaching the make shift barracks, they waited for Riley to finish his speech. "You may be new but that won't make you exempt to any of the expectations here." His cockney tone grated Elyse's ears as she internally counted the moments until he left. The Paragon members were split amongst five rooms with an additional door closed at the end of the hallway. Entering her room, Elyse heard someone sigh in relief behind her. Turning back to her bunk, she began neatly unpacking her belongings.
"Hi." The raised, almost sing-song Scottish accent caused her to tense. "I'm Clover Taylor." The strawberry blonde with round face and oval eyes beamed at Elyse. An awkward pause ensued as Elyse barely overlooked her shoulder. Not without her manners, she gave a forced yet polite nod. "Lèvesque."
"First name or last?"
Elyse shot a blank stare at the strawberry blonde only to watch her fall into a fit of nervous giggling. "Kidding, of course."
Elyse didn't bother with eye contact as she climbed into the top bunk. Lying down she clasped her fingers behind her head, eyes shut as she waited for her roommate to take a hint. Her thoughts floated to her twin once again feeling the walls of her heart tense, offering little relief into her veins.
Clover resisted the urge to slump as she unpacked her belongings. At least my previous roommates spoke to me.
Training in the first few weeks was tense as Elyse recognized how determined Lieutenant Riley was to maintain a clear divide between the two task forces. There had been an unspoken understanding in dividing the recreation room. The 141 would remain on the side closest to the kitchen. The Paragon would remain on the side closest to the exit. Riley stood in a darkened corner like the hawk she'd kept as a pet, watching—waiting for a moment to strike back at her. She'd heard him skewer Taylor, the newest medic on the team after he took a nasty hit during a sparring session. The medic barely stood at his sternum and shook like a leaf until Elyse stepped in. She may have only been a Sergeant, but she cared very little for titles when they were being used to—in her own words—cater to the needs of a spewing asshole. Whether it be due to Riley's reputation, preserving their own careers, or enjoying a shit-show; the other members kept their distance and silence. Lieutenant Blaire Evans was an exception. Before Elyse defended Clover, she'd been ready to step in herself. Her dark brown undercut hair parted over her face, as she shared disdain for not just Riley but for the 141 in general.
"Bunch of over-privileged wankers." She hissed before tossing back another shot of whiskey. "Where'd you get this?"
"Taylor." Elyse muttered reaching for the bottle. "As thanks."
"A woman of few words, eh? I can respect that."
Elyse smirked as she poured her drink. Catching a glimpse of their very nervous medic making her way to the table, she and Blaire offered polite nods.
"Do you mind if I sit with you guys?" Clover tugged at the sleeve at her wrist.
"So long as you don't consider us one of them, I don't see why not." Blair finished her shot. "Cheers by the way."
Clover sat down uneasily, trying to avoid the stares in her direction. "Cheers." The redhead grimaced at the taste of the liquor, missing the chuckles from Elyse and Blaire.
"Drink often?" Blaire watched with a gleam of amusement in her grey eyes.
"Not really." The medic replied sheepishly as she set down her glass.
Elyse smirked before enjoying another sip of her drink. Scanning the room while the other two chatted, she noted that the base itself felt much larger than it actually was. In truth, everything was simply spread out.
"So what made you join?"
Elyse passed a glance in Blaire's direction. "Fulfilling a promise." She could practically hear Blaire's eyebrow raise. "You?"
"Family tradition. Everyone serves."
"Admirable." Her eyes looked past the Lieutenant as Meat and Royce approached.
"Heard you talked shit to our Lieutenant. Not sure if you noticed, but there's a chain of command here." Meat huffed, arms crossed over his chest, his face full of indignation.
Elyse sharpened her glare. "And?"
"And you need to respect it. You may have been hot shit before, what with being an all-women's team, but here you're nothing."
Elyse failed to suppress her flinch as Meat's words echoed in the well of her memories. She couldn't—wouldn't go back there. Physically or emotionally.
"And if I don't?" Elyse felt her blood boil as she rose from her chair. She hated how easily wound up she could be and yet, she'd never really made an effort to prevent it from happening.
Meat kept just enough of a gap to show he hadn't touched her yet. He had a good few inches over her as she barely stood at his clavicle. He squared his shoulders, leering down at her. "You warm up quickly, I like that in a woman."
Disgust filled her eyes as she rounded her fists. The room grew quiet as she felt the eyes of others cast her direction. Silent enough to hear a pin drop, time slowed as Elyse felt the urge to rip that smirk from his face.
The sound of connecting flesh brought Mactavish into the room. Seeing Meat's body flip head first onto the ground sent him into a near frenzy. He was just inches from grabbing Elyse by her collar whenever she felt a strong hand on his fist.
"They're settling things." Her tone was unnervingly tranquil, her grey eyes expression unfazed by his rising anger.
"Not on my watch." He spat before attempting to side step her. She blocked him, moving her free hand to his chest.
"Sergeant Lèvesque, stand down."
As if someone had flicked a switch, Elyse released her vice grip from Meat's arm letting it fall onto the floor with a crumble. Meat's darkened eyes heated with humiliation as he felt Royce lift him, quietly ushering him out of the room's only exit.
Mactavish never broke his stare, a rare fire in his cobalt blue eyes. How he'd wish they would burn into Blaire's icy greys, evoking some sort—any sort of reaction. Blaire waited for Meat and Royce's footsteps to quiet before giving an almost pleased glance at the sergeant. "Head back to quarters, Lèvesque. You've done enough tonight."
Elyse's impassive stare seeped into the atmosphere lowering the temperature of the room. A natural habit she'd inherited from her mother. She ignored the stares ranging from bewilderment to vexation as she exited. The visage of her mother and godfather appeared in her mind, as she felt a renewed urgency to remain focused. She scolded herself internally, rounding her fists. Too many of these confrontations and I won't be able to accomplish what I came here for.
Clover had scuttled into the room at some point, glasses balanced on top of each other in one hand half full of whiskey in the other. Seeing Elyse's still form, she quietly tucked away her celebratory trinkets before cautiously stripping out of her uniform. Elyse's back faced her giving some semblance of privacy as the skittish 24-year-old slid into some brightly colored printed pajama pants. Slipping into a fitted tank top, she let down her hair before reclining against her pillows. Switching on the small book light next to her, she cracked open one of her medical text books. She'd been the youngest graduate in her class, an accomplishment all its own until she enlisted with the Royal Army Medical Corps. Her height, gender, and age did little to gain confidence in her patients. As a result, she took on as many responsibilities possible, refusing to relinquish herself despite the obstacles with pushy patients, cynical corpsmen, and arrogant doctors. Serving as a Nurse Practitioner would have its drawbacks, but she felt called to a position that was desperately needed but often overlooked.
The lines had begun to blur as she rubbed her eyes. Stifling a yawn, she had just closed her eyes whenever a voice caused her tense.
"You'll burn yourself out if you don't pace yourself."
Lifting her head, a mix of excitement and confusion filled her amber brown eyes.
"How did you know-"
"My mum's a nurse. Her mum was a nurse. And her mum before her."
"That's cool. So then, why not become a medic, if you don't mind my asking." Clover chided herself for being a little too eager to have the first real conversation with her roommate since they arrived.
"Requires too much empathy."
The room plunged into an uncomfortable silence as Clover felt stifled by the numerous inquiries threatening to burst from her lungs. It was as if Elyse sensed this as she shuffled above Clover. Sitting up she attempted to crack her stiff neck. Meat had been able to land only a hand on her, but his grip on the nape of her neck causing her to be unable to properly recline her head.
"Would you have a look at something for me?" Clover could hear Elyse's voice soften as her shadow leaned over the ledge on the top bunk.
"Certainly."
Elyse slid from her bunk to the ground before rounding the corner.
"Please." The medic motioned with her hand, folding up her textbook. Swiping her shoulder length hair from the back of her neck, Clover frowned at the bruise forming. "Tell me where it hurts." She gently pressed her fingers along the tender areas of Elyse's back stopping whenever she flinched.
"Nothing feels broken. Some swelling that may lead to some more bruising. You should ice it for the next couple days."
"Thanks." Elyse flashed a smile so faint, Clover wasn't certain she'd actually seen it.
"No, I should be thanking you. For what you did what that Lieutenant and for tonight."
Elyse shrugged. "We're a team. When someone comes after one of us, they'll need to be ready for all of us."
Clover nodded, a smile tugged at her lips.
"Goodnight, Taylor. Thanks again." Elyse climbed back into the top bunk carefully lying on her neck.
"Anytime. And goodnight." Flicking off her book light, Clover released a contented sigh.
Author's Note: There's the first chapter. Please let me know what you think, if you feel so inclined.