Chapter Two
Simon 'Ghost' Riley shook his head in frustration when the woman slumped over on the floor in front of him.
"Bloody hell, Soap, thought you said you'd rescued a damsel in distress before?" Ghost eyed his comrade and rolled his eyes. "Should have cleaned yourself off first. You've got blood all over you."
"Well, error on me," Soap quipped sarcastically as he attempted to use a gloved hand to wipe away the blood from his face; he smeared it instead. "Guess I wasn't quite thinking about the blood."
Ghost looked down at the woman. Her hair hung in front of her face hiding her identity from him, though the natural red hair was a good indicator they'd found who they'd been looking for.
"Is it her?" Ghost asked Soap.
"Yeah... it's her," Soap drawled out forcefully as he spat on the floor.
"Amature."
"Fucking hell, Ghost. We lost all of them! All fucking five of them!" Soap yelled, his voice reverberating off the walls of the small room.
Ghost shook his head, knowing his comrade was making a tactical error in allowing himself to feel emotion toward the others who'd sacrificed their lives to help save this woman—this Abagail Williams.
"Every single American is dead, Ghost! And for what? For this woman? A fucking teacher, for christ's sake!" Soap placed his hands on his hips and hung his head.
"She's more than that, and you know it."
Soap's little temper tantrum could wait, for they had more pressing matters to attend to. Ghost looked down at Abagail and sighed, knowing time was of the essence. Backup for the Russians was on its way, and neither Ghost nor Soap knew their ETA. And as unfortunate as it was, they were just a two-person group now. Ghost doubted they could protect her while also keeping themselves alive. There was no air support on this mission, and the only ground team hadn't faired well. They needed to move quickly if all three of them were to survive the night.
"Go outside and stand guard," Ghost ordered his lieutenant, then looked down in Abagail's direction. "I'll take care of her."
Soap needed to get a grip on himself and fast. Now was not the time or place for Soap's meltdown. Although a veteran soldier, Soap still led with his heart on missions, and he'd gotten close with the new operatives the American government had sent to help with the extraction.
"Get your head on straight," Ghost told Soap as he exited the house.
Soap mumbled something that sounded like a curse, but Ghost paid him no mind. He directed his sights upon the woman on the floor. Her hands twitched, and he squatted beside her. Maybe she was coming to. Ghost reached out and brushed away the hair from her face. Having fainted, her face was relaxed, and she was beautiful. Ghost had seen photographs of her before the mission, but they all paled in comparison to her in person. Her natural red hair fell to her waist in thick locks, and the freckles upon her rounded cheeks suited her perfectly.
Ghost placed his gloved hand on her shoulder and gave her a slight shake. "Abagail, can you hear me?"
Her face scrunched as if she were in pain, then the groan came, and Abagail placed a hand on her head.
"Abagail?" Ghost repeated.
Her eyes were still closed, but she answered. "Hmm?"
"My name is Simon Riley. I'm here to take you home."
Abagail blinked a few times, then turned her attention up to him. Her light blue eyes pierced him like an arrow, and he had to force himself not to flinch when she stared into his dark eyes. They widened ever so slightly as she took in his skull mask, probably wondering if it was real. It's what most people always ask, eventually.
"You're..." She swallowed and placed a hand around her neck; her bottom lip quivered. "You're here for me?"
Ghost nodded. "I am."
"Y-you're not here to-to kill me?" A tear escaped her left eye and rolled down her rounded cheek.
"Kill you? No. Never." Ghost shook his head. "I'm here to get you out of here."
Another tear fell as she stared up at him. "What about the men? Are-are they... dead?" her voice was whisper quiet and with a slight hint of fear.
A spike of anger shot through Ghost as he wondered what all she'd had to endure the two weeks here in this shit hole.
"Yes," he stated, his voice hard as stone as he attempted to curl his anger. "Every last one of them."
A half smile broke through her features, and she wiped away the tears.
"Good," she voiced weakly, then pushed herself up from the ground and into a sitting position. "I'm glad they're dead."
"Me too," Ghost said through clenched teeth. Abagail turned to look at him, and he switched subjects. "I'm sorry, but we have to go."
"Where are we going? Where are we?" she asked him quickly.
Ghost ignored her questions, which could be answered once they were safe and hidden within the forest that surrounded the house.
He eyed the dirty nightgown she was wearing. "Is that all you have for clothes?"
Abagail frowned, then pulled her eyes away from his to stare down at her gown. She shrugged. "It's what I was wearing when they took me. Wasn't able to pack a bag."
Her voice was deadpan, and Ghost swallowed the lump in his throat. He hated that she sounded close to tears and hated even more that he was the cause. Ghost was thankful for the mask he wore, for he felt the blush on his face would light up the dark room.
He looked away from her. "I'm sorry."
A hand touched his, surprising Ghost. "It's okay," she said, her ice-blue eyes piercing his.
He blinked. Swallowed again, then said: "It's cold outside. Let me find something for you."
Ghost stood and looked around the room. Not finding anything lying around that looked like it could keep her warm in the freezing weather outside, he left her side and searched the rest of the house. Finding a few thick woolen blankets that didn't stink too much, he grabbed them and returned to the living room.
"Can you stand?" Ghost asked with the blankets in hand.
Abagail nodded, then Ghost extended his hand down to her. When she stood next to him, Ghost noted their significant height difference for a split second before he handed her one of the blankets he'd collected, and she wrapped it around herself. He noticed she was shivering and covered her with the rest of the blankets he'd grabbed.
"It's close to freezing out there, and we have a ways to go," Ghost informed. "I'm going to carry you, okay?"
Abagail nodded and squeezed the blankets around her tighter. "Okay."
Ghost began moving items around on his vest, adjusting it so Abagail wouldn't have them bothering her when he held her. When he was done, Ghost stared down at her. It took a moment, but when Abagail finally nodded with her consent to touch her, he bent down and placed one arm at the bend of her knees and the other behind her back to swoop her up into his arms.
Ghost noticed her feet were exposed. "Cover your feet. It's below freezing outside now and is supposed to get colder."
Abagail did as she was told and tucked her feet into the blankets. She gasped when she eyed the dead Russian by the front door with a large pool of blood around his head. Ghost hoped it was his bullet that had killed the bastard.
"Don't look at that," Ghost advised. Abagail pulled her eyes away from the guy on the floor and looked at him. "Keep your eyes on me, or keep them closed. There's more like that outside."
"Okay," she repeated.
"I won't let anything happen to you. I promise."
Abagail's brow furrowed, and she nodded. "I believe you."
Ghost gave her a quick nod and turned away from the man on the floor.
"You ready to go?" Ghost asked her.
He watched her visibly swallow before she gave him a nod. She then laid her head down on his chest and closed her eyes. When he started walking towards the door, she began to shake. Ghost figured she was just in shock. So much had happened to her within the last two weeks. Before walking out of the house, he reassured her that he would let nothing happen to her and held her tighter within his strong arms.
"All clear?" Ghost asked Soap when he met him out on the porch.
"Aye," Soap nodded as he put away his night vision goggles. He then turned around and only gave Abagail a slight glance as she lay against Ghost's chest. "We better get a move on before that changes."
"Agreed."
Soap turned and walked off the porch with Ghost following silently behind him. The small outbuilding was still burning brightly, lighting the entire clearing in a bright orange glow. The resulting fire happened because one of the Americans had hastily thrown a grenade against Ghost's order.
He was glad Abagail had turned her head towards him, concealing her face. The aftermath of their mission was too gruesome for her innocent eyes, and she'd seen enough already; no need to further taint her eyes with what he was looking at.
Ghost kept his eyes trained toward the line of trees as he passed the dead bodies of the Americans that had joined them on this mission. He cursed under his breath. It was such a shame, and Ghost wondered, not for the first time tonight, why these five greenhorns had been chosen to join them on this mission. They had been bloody, brand spanking new to combat. But that was the name of the game when you joined the military. It was the job they all had signed up for.
Ghost sighed, his hot breath visible upon the cold air.
"You warm enough?" he asked Abagail in a quiet voice. She had stopped shaking, but if she said she was still cold, Ghost wouldn't hesitate to return to the house for more blankets. He'd found a closet full of winter coats, but the smell on them had been enough to make him gag, and the clothes he'd found in the small rooms hadn't faired better.
"Yeah. I'm okay."
Her voice was low, and it slightly worried him. What if she was lying to him? What if she was freezing? Ghost blinked away the questions that built behind his tongue. He had no choice but to take her word for it.
Ghost followed behind Soap as they crossed the yard toward the treeline to venture into the forest. They had a ways to go before they got to the get-a-way vehicle. Abagail Williams was his number one priority, and Ghost would do whatever he could to protect her.