Finally! Lately I have been so busy that I did not have much time writing the chapters :/ However don't worry I will finish the story! I have read numerous fic stories that just stop in the middle of the story and stop updating and I absolutely despise that. It might take me more than a week to update but I will update!
I am glad that you liked the twist in the previous chapter :3 *evil laugh*
Akim: We'll see what will happen ;)
Zacharti: Don't lose hope! We may discover Malloy's reasons behind her decision later in the story...
Frostdire: Thank you so much! *blush* :3 I'm pleased that you're loving the story so far.
I'm going to stop babbling now! As one of the reviewers requested, here is "MOAR" for you :P
Lieutenant Williams entered Hôpital d'instruction des armées Percy situated on the outskirts of Paris, France. This military hospital takes care of both civilian and military personnel especially during the current time of crisis. Williams started searching for the Intensive Care Unit as she presumed Daniels would be recovered there due to having sustained heavy injury. She fiddled with the patrol cap between her fingers as she read the signs on a hospital corner.
'Downstairs,' she thought.
The others remained at the base under her orders. They were devastated at what happened to Daniels but they tried not to show it. Williams herself felt distraught that one of them got injured under her command. She huffed in frustration and searched for Daniels' room. She didn't even bother asking at the nurse's station as it was overwhelmed with people asking for assistance or information. It was understandable seeing that half of Paris was lying in ruins including the Eiffel Tower.
Daniels was lying unconscious in bed with an oxygen mask over face and an IV drip attached to her. Something else caught her eye as she approached her friend; the nurses were panicking over her and realised why. The heart monitor was not showing the constant peaks and troughs but rather an irregular rhythm.
"Shit," whispered Williams, "she's going into V-fib."
Williams waited but no doctor appeared just more nurses bringing in the crash cart into the room.
"Where's the doctor on call?!" she inquired.
"We don't know," replied one of the nurses with a heavy French accent.
"God dammit."
She grabbed a pair of latex gloves and put them on. She checked Daniels' airway and felt her carotid artery in her neck for a pulse.
"No pulse; starting chest compressions," she said.
"What are you doing?!" asked one of the nurses.
"I'm a medic and I'm not letting my friend die!"
Williams started administering CPR as one of the nurses attached the pads on Daniels' chest.
"Come on baby girl, you can do it."
When she counted up to thirty, Williams moved back. The nurse shouted 'clear' and shocked Daniels' heart.
"Dammit come on," murmured Williams on the verge of desperation. "Don't do this to me Clare."
She continued chest compressions as the nurses injected drugs into the IV drip. The heart monitor was still beeping irregularly causing Williams to swear even more. The doctor came rushing in and urged her to move to the side but she ignored him. He didn't arrive on time to save her friend; she was not letting Daniels' life in his hands that's for sure.
"Clear!"
After ten minutes of chest compressions, injecting drugs and shocking the heart, there was the dreadful sound Williams was hoping she wouldn't hear.
A long, endless beep. She was flatlining.
Daniels was dead.
She stepped back slowly. It couldn't be; it was not happening. She was just in a bad dream that's all. Daniels will wake up and laugh like nothing had happened. Yes, that is it.
Nevertheless, she knew that deep down this was not going to happen as she saw the nurse drag the bed sheet over Daniels' body. Sergeant Daniels was not going to wake up.
"Call it," said the nurse quietly.
"Time of death; 11.35 am," said the doctor.
Williams kicked the crash cart and shoved the doctor aside as she stormed out of the room. She wiped the tears from her face angrily and did not even look back when the doctor called out after her.
This was all Malloy's fault. She will die if it was the last thing she'd have to do.
...
Williams returned to Paris Air Base trying to calm herself before breaking the news to her team mates. From behind the door she could hear them talk amongst themselves suppressing forced laughs. She took a deep breath and entered the room.
Collins and Allen were lying down on their cots in what looked like a small barracks. Allen was throwing a stress ball in the air and Collins was resting her eyes. Red came out of the bathroom clutching her stomach.
"Damn these French and their strange food," she said mumbling away in Russian. "I mean who, in their right mind, would eat snails as a pleasure meal?!"
"I like escargot," said Collins casually.
"I've been throwing up since we got here," groaned Red.
"Any news?" asked Allen looking worried.
Williams threw her patrol cap on her cot and leaned against the wall.
"I don't know how to make this easier," she started.
"God dammit," murmured Allen and walked at the other end of the room.
Red and Collins still stared at Williams looking for some kind of answer with horror on their face.
"She went into v-fib," explained Williams. "This causes the heart to beat irregularly thus not properly distributing the blood as it is supposed to. We tried CPR but... nothing worked."
"What are you saying?" asked Collins with a forced steady voice as tears were whelming up in her eyes.
"She didn't make it," said Williams in a small voice.
Allen punched the wall in frustration but Red and Collins did not move an inch. They let the fact that they would never see Daniels again sink in slowly. Collins went to the bathroom and shut the door behind her. After a few minutes, Red interrupted the silence.
"What about funeral arrangements?" quietly asked Red.
"Daniels will be sent home and a burial will be arranged according to the Marine Corps protocols."
She approached Williams and hugged her tightly.
"I'm sorry Charlene," whispered Red.
"Me too," she replied and she broke down in tears.
MacTavish groaned and felt the back of his head burning. He winced as he tried to move; his stomach was on fire and his muscles ached. He looked to his left and his right; his hands were chained with the wall. Looking down, he noticed that he was just wearing his camouflage trousers and there were several bruises and cuts on his torso. Where the hell was he?
The space was cramped and there was a large metal, bolted door opposite of him. There were no windows and the only source of light was the flickering light bulb dangling on top of him. The floor felt cold under him and he shivered slightly as he was not clothed well. He cursed as he tried to move but his body protested.
Suddenly he heard the door unlock and observed cautiously. Two men entered the room but one of them caught his attention. He was a big, beefy man, his shaved head looked like a bowling ball. He had small eyes and a crooked nose. His thin lips were pursed together forcing his chin to protrude. He was wearing a white shirt underneath a bulletproof vest in which the sleeves were rolled back revealing heavily tattooed arms. MacTavish realised that it was probably him who had struck him unconscious.
There was more shuffling as another man appeared in the doorway. This one was different than the others. He was wearing an elegant suit and expensive leather shoes. His watch must have cost him more than the whole outfit but MacTavish was more interested in his face. The same face he saw on those photos Sandman had sent them.
"Captain MacTavish."
"Michael Vaughn," murmured MacTavish glaring.
"You know who I am?" asked Vaughn.
"Of course I know," replied MacTavish with a smirk. "Your operation in France did not go as smooth as you had hoped." He then chuckled. "Bad luck lad."
Vaughn's eye twitched but he kept his composure. He was not going to let this Scottish bastard get to him.
"A small hitch; nothing serious."
MacTavish grunted. "Right..."
Another figure appeared in the room and MacTavish's eyes opened widely. It was not possible. Lisa Malloy was wearing a fitted, maroon dress and bold red lipstick. He couldn't believe his eyes. He did not know how or what to feel. Hatred? Fury maybe? Or simply longing to be with her as though nothing had happened?
"Maybe you should have trusted your operation to someone more... proficient," said MacTavish, staring hard at Malloy.
"Michael he's injured, let me tend to his wounds," she intervened, ignoring MacTavish.
"He is here as my prisoner not my guest," scorned Vaughn.
"You want him alive, no?" Malloy turned to the guards and instructed them to bring her medical supplies. Vaughn grabbed her from her hair and glared at her.
"No funny business," he warned her.
MacTavish felt stunned. He half-expected Vaughn to throw her against the wall but he didn't. The way he grabbed her was unbelievable. What shocked him more was Malloy not doing anything about it; he expected her to punch him or kick him in the shins but she remained silent. He knew so little about him; however it appears that Vaughn does not like being cheated on in any way. He should be cautious with this lad.
After the guards brought her a First Aid box and Vaughn went away, the door closed behind her leaving them alone. Malloy approached MacTavish and knelt near him as she prepared the gauzes and cotton swabs with disinfectant. As she approached him to tend to his injuries, MacTavish recoiled.
"I don't need taken care of," he snarled.
"If you don't clean your wounds they'll get infected and you'll contract a fever," she said annoyed. "Your choice."
"Why should I trust you?"
Malloy continued dabbing the cotton on the wounds and did not reply.
"I'm not asking you to trust me," she finally replied.
He kneed her in her chest and she spluttered as a result of the force. He gritted his teeth and stared her down.
"Thank Christ that my hands are tied up or it would have been far worse," he spat.
Malloy slapped him hard across his face with the back of her hand and MacTavish could taste blood. He glared at her and she started packing the First Aid box.
"If you want to survive here," she said rubbing her chest, "I suggest you shut the hell up."
"Make me."
She grabbed from his throat and MacTavish gasped for air.
"Listen here Soap, you don't know Vaughn like I do. He'll kill you in an instant, he doesn't give a damn."
She released him and he struggled to catch his breath.
"Why are you telling me this? What do you care?" he asked, wheezing.
"Again; you don't need to trust me," she said, "but I suggest you follow my advice. I've been here a longer time than you and I know how things are run around here."
Malloy was walking to the door when MacTavish uttered something that made her die a little inside.
"You're dead to me Malloy."
She closed her eyes and could feel tears stream down her face. She did not glance back; she merely opened the door and got out.
Ghost glanced to his right and couldn't help but smile. Roach has been conscious for over two weeks now and he is recuperating swiftly. They have been talking about everything; workouts to do when they get back on their feet, life in the SAS, MacTavish, Price, Williams, Collins; everything that they had in their mind, they would discuss it. Since Ghost did not suffer the consequences of a mortar exploding near him unlike Roach, he was already walking around the hospital.
The child whom he had seen the day he woke up, accompanied him everywhere. Her name was Chiara Morici and she was frequently at the hospital as her father, who was a Colonel in the Italian Army, suffered a bullet to the brain and has been in a coma for six months. Even though there was nothing they could do, her family still visited him.
"Ciao Signori Riley e Sanderson," she greeted them in her usual flashing smile that could light up the whole hospital.
"Hello Chiara," said Roach returning the smile. "How are you today?"
"I'm fine," she replied with a strong Sicilian accent. She then turned to Ghost, bouncing on her toes. "Shall we go for a walk Signor Riley?"
Ghost laughed. As he slowly got out of bed, Chiara went to fetch him his dressing gown. He put it on and dragged the IV pole with him as she grabbed his free hand.
"See you later Gary," she waved.
"Later mate," said Ghost.
"Enjoy!"
They started walking down the corridor, hand-in-hand and she started talking to him about her cat named Tommaso and his mischievous acts. Ghost was fond of this little girl. Her eyes would glisten every time she talked about something meaningful to her. She loved listening to his adventures as well.
He chuckled as Chiara hugged his arm tightly to her but was soon interrupted by someone calling out to him.
"Simon!"
Ghost looked up and gasped; he couldn't believe his eyes.
"Charlene? What are you doing here?!"
Williams half-walked half-ran to him and embraced him tightly. Ghost held her close running his fingers through her hair.
"You're not supposed to be here," he whispered to her.
"I need to talk to you; it's urgent," she said and then glanced at the little girl.
"Her name is Chiara, she is my friend," beamed Ghost.
"Hello Chiara, my name is Charlene," said Williams shaking her hand. "Can you give us a minute honey? I need to talk to Simon real quick."
"Ok non c'é problema," replied Chiara. "Arrivederci Simon."
"See you soon sweetie."
"Is there somewhere private we can talk?" asked Williams.
"Yes, in the gardens; follow me."
They started walking slowly towards the back of the hospital.
"Are you alone?" asked Ghost.
"No, Collins is with me. She went to find Roach."
"What about the others?"
"They are in France for the time being."
They found an empty bench under a large pine tree. The gardens were very spacious and patients were walking either with a nurse or with a family member. There were stone paths in the middle of huge turf areas. Petunias and roses swayed in the breeze alongside the paths. It had a very relaxing and peaceful atmosphere.
Ghost glanced in her eyes and pressed his lips against hers. Her touch made his stomach flutter. It had been months since he last saw her. How he had missed that scent of vanilla on her skin and her delicate touch upon his cheek. He held her hands in his and noticed pain in her glimmering, brown eyes.
"What's going on Charlene?"
She sighed and started explaining from when Malloy disappeared from their safehouse. She continued telling him that Sandman had informed them that she was working with Michael Vaughn, an ex-CIA operative. Moreover, after leaving the CIA, Vaughn was suspected that he was involved in illicit activities with Espinosa.
"Wait," he interrupted, rubbing his forehead. "You mean that Malloy was working with Makarov all this time?"
"Apparently."
"How did we not see this coming? There's something wrong."
"That's what we thought until the mission in France which confirmed our doubts."
Williams continued explaining how Malloy was in Paris to rescue Volk, Makarov's bomb maker. Frost had seen her next to an unconscious Daniels who had been shot.
"How is Daniels?" he asked.
She simply shook her heard as tears fell on her lap. Ghost embraced her and wiped away the tears.
"Bloody hell... I'm sorry love."
"Oh don't worry it gets worse," she said suddenly furious. "Price contacted us a few hours ago. They had been attacked. MacTavish was captured."
"What?!" he snarled. "By whom?!"
"They don't know."
"I need to get in there!"
"No! You're in no shape to fight."
"Can your sister at least help?"
"Tammy is MIA in Afghanistan Simon," she cried. "She might be dead..."
"What the fuck is going on out there?" he asked fuming.
He sat there, his blood boiling. He couldn't just stay there while the world is collapsing. They need a plan. He needs to do something about it. MacTavish needs help.
"I might have a plan..." he said, finally.
...
"Surprise!" grinned Collins as she jumped near Roach.
Roach stood there in awe. Was he hallucinating?
"I hope you're not a side-effect of the drugs I am taking," muttered Roach, still staring at her.
"Nope! I am very much real," she said. "Here touch my arm."
He squeezed her arm and stared at her a bit more.
"I feel like a bloody idiot," he said chuckling. "Lainey, you look as gorgeous as ever."
"I brought you some sweets," she whispered.
She took out a box of assorted sweets and snuck them into his bed stand. They winked at each other and laughed quietly.
"Listen," she said, business-like. "I can't stay long. Williams is explaining everything to Ghost as we speak. He will tell you everything we know so far."
"How are things?"
"Not so great. Makarov is a step ahead of us."
"We'll get 'im," said Roach, determined.
"We have to; we don't have any choice," she replied.
"When all of this is over," he said grabbing her hand, "we have to go on a proper date."
"Toffees and wine," giggled Collins. "We were supposed to do that after your mission in Russia."
"Things didn't turn out as expected. Don't worry, we'll make amends."
"Yes," she grinned. "Take care Sergeant, I'll see you soon."
And just like that, she was gone again.
The last part was a bit rushed :/ I'm sorry for that. I do hope that you enjoyed the chapter.
I would like to inform you that I research a lot to avoid any misconceptions. Every location that was mentioned in this story were all checked out on maps to see that the journeys and locations make sense. For example I won't mention Tokyo and describe it in the story as a quaint little village in China (that was pretty stupid but to give you an idea).
Also, I read a lot and even saw videos about ventricular fibrillation. If there were still any mistakes I apologise and do not hesitate to inform me about them. I enjoy learning :) I put a lot of work in this fic as my readers, you only deserve the best :)
To the other Guest reviewer: Now you know who capture MacTavish :P
See you and have a nice day :) xxx