Approximately the last months of 2019
The suns unbearable rays beat down on the dry land bellow, turning the surface into molten gold and bringing forth the deadliest conditions for anyone who dared step foot in it. Between the endless stony landscape, a city laid well integrated, thriving in these limitations, and offering shelter for millions of people. There, in a small café, away from all the trouble the world currently resided in, a woman sat at a table. Her eyes were set on the window to her side, but her thoughts were far from serene. She sighed inaudibly, as a set of light hair fell into her eyes. Blinking, she shook her head lightly, successfully moving her bangs into a better position and leaving her irritated eyes alone.
Looking back at the papers she held between her fingers, her head darted up, at the sound of heavy boots approaching her position. Setting the barely used pen aside, she watched the man walk up to her, with a cup of steaming hot beverage in his hands.
"Tea?" The woman, Laswell, asked surprised, as she watched Price, her partner in crime, sit opposite of her with a cuppa of steaming hot tea in his hands.
"Yeah, well I'm a long way from a proper pint." Price answered, a forced smile evident on his lips. Although he much more preferred to hold a cigar between his fingers and the taste of bourbon on his lips, tea will have to do for now. The enjoyment will have to wait, until they are both safe and sound back on American ground.
"Russia disowned Barkov." Laswell broke the brief silence that clung to their presence. Price's small, forced smile faded as quickly as it had been mustered up, his signature scowl replacing it hastily.
"Well, they didn't have much choice, did they? He's dead." He half grunted his response, careful to keep his demeanour calm and collected.
"You took a big bite out of that problem, John." Laswell said, her lips were set into a thin line, but her eyes conveyed unsaid gratitude, gratitude that rubbed Price slightly the wrong way. He knew what had to be done, knew his work was important. But he also knew they had losses, and the problems they were facing were only multiplying.
Cut off one head, two more shall take its place.
"For now… but left unchecked…" He breathed out, tension building in his upper back and shoulders.
"They won't be." Laswell cut in. Price scowled, unwilling to bestow her words any real meaning. He was ready to say more, but the confident shimmer in her blue eyes, made him reconsider the words he was about to utter. Instead, he simply kept leaning on his elbows, watching her intensely, waiting for her façade to crumble. Waiting for an opening in which he would pounce. But Laswell rarely crumbled, and this instant was not the miracle Price waited for.
Besides, both knew, her bold sentence was only a fancy present. A beautifully wrapped gift filled with half promises. But both parties stuck to it. After all, it was hope that was thrown into the room, and in this line of work, hope was the absolute last resort. At least Price swore that to himself, as much as Laswell followed the same path on her own. If everything failed and they ran out of luck, out of options… Then, and only then they would begin to hope and wish on a miracle. It was the last-ditch option. As of right now, using it to ease his mind, was against everything he stood, thus he did not understand why she played her cards so openly. He was certain they had not utilized every resource they had. Yet.
"General Shepard pulled the files you asked for." She leaned to the side and grabbed a relatively large folder from her bag.
Laswell wasn't aware that that was the last effort, the last solution Price had up his sleeve, before he had to step up his game and break another set of rules. Driving him to wield a double-edged sword. A sword, he despised using at all.
We get dirty and the world stays clean.
He remembered those words as if it was yesterday when he uttered them to a distraught Sergeant Garrick. The words he stood behind, without a doubt.
"What exactly is this about?" Laswell asked, pulling Price out of his line of thought. His hand still laid open on the table, waiting for the files to miraculously end up in his hands. The documents, that now laid securely under Laswell's arms.
He sighed inwardly, as he watched her lean forward and tilt her head to the side slightly, awaiting his answer with a burning passion.
"A task force." He finally answered.
Laswell shook her head in disagreement, "we already have loose ends."
"And I will tie them." He said without missing a beat, body also leaning forward in an effort to make his intentions more credible.
"I can fund assets, not outlaws." She went on, stubbornly.
Two seconds passed, with Price staring silently into her eyes.
Suddenly he nodded and told her to enjoy the tea, pushing his own cup towards her whilst trying to get up and walk away. He was halfway out of his seat when Laswell pushed the folder slightly into his direction, reluctantly. "Zakhaev wants Barkov's throne." She added.
Price made himself comfortable again on the chair, satisfaction pooling in the pit of his stomach. He knew how to get her to comply, how to add just the right amount of pressure to the right places… But her last sentence, made him suspicious. Hasn't he…? "I almost buried him in Pripyat… With MacMiller."
"That was the father. This is the son, Victor."
Price sighed. Another vicious circle they did not seem to be able to break free from. "Lovely family…" He spoke.
"They're big fans of Hadir's…" Laswell trailed off.
"Well, that would explain why he is still alive."
"They're gonna get him out."
"Then give me what I need..." Price demanded with a firm voice.
Laswell let go of the folder and leaned back into her own seat with a suppressed sigh. She knew Price was making the right call, but deep down she couldn't outrun the worries that threatened to bubble up. Glancing around to check if anyone took notice of their conversation, she leaned back fully on the table and watched Price take the papers out of the folder.
"Who's your crew?" She asked as nonchalant as she could.
Price put down the first file.
"Sergeant Garrick."
"Kyle?"
"They call him Gaz. He never said anything."
Taking the file into her own hands, the picture of the man she knew, came into view.
"John MacTavish, SAS. Sniper- demolitions. Goes by Soap." Price continued.
"Why?"
"That's classified."
Cheeky bastard, she thought.
Price chuckled, as if hearing her remark. "There he is… Simon Riley." He placed the file down a bit more forcefully than the rest while saying his name. Laswell's eyes skimmed over the front page.
"There's no picture."
"Never." He said immediately, as if he was anticipating her question.
Maybe he was.
Her carefully concealed questioning gaze met Price's steel blue eyes.
"Now the rest…" He began, as he quickly pulled the files back towards himself, as if afraid someone would pick them off under his nose and run off with them. "-that's need to know. Unless we got a deal." He stared her down again, for the third time in the past fifteen minutes.
No, this time Laswell came prepared. Contrary to belief, she had a hunch about Price's plans, thanks to her protégé, that again stuck her nose into things she shouldn't have. But this time, Laswell didn't scold her for it. No, this time she had bigger plans for her.
The corners of her lips curved up slightly, as she bent over her bag yet again. This time, pulling out a single file, similar to the ones Price held in his hands, yet thinner. Placing it down between them both, she relished in the micro twitches Price tried to minimize on his face.
"Who is this, Kate?" He huffed out, not pleased in the slightest that his carefully thought-out plans were interrupted.
"Sinja "Ascii" Morrison. A hidden gem."
Price's eyes skimmed over the name that was neatly written on the front. Slowly opening up the file, he was met with pages and pages full of information gathered from the past three years. He recognised valuable intel that helped in more than just one operation to get them the upper hand. Missions he was often a part of. Absorbing the letters, his eyes roamed franticly from the top to the bottom of every page. At first it was small, barely significant data, but with every turn he performed, the info doubled, even tippled to the point he was nearly overwhelmed by the amount of information he could collect from one single page alone.
His eyes shot back up and focused on Laswell, a single brow lifting further above the other.
"She provided us with valuable intel?"
"Indeed, she has. She is the mastermind behind it all. She can extract any information in a matter of minutes."
Colour him surprised. Laswell being bested in her own game. Not that he would ever admit it to her face what he just thought.
"Why am I hearing of this only now?"
Laswell averted her eyes from him for a second, but a second was enough for Price to deduct that there was more to the woman than she led on. It unnerved him. Another irregular equation to the chaos they were chewing through.
"She is off the books."
"Off the books?" Price repeated her answer in disbelief.
She took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose in slight annoyance. "I would have been forced to report her to the authorities otherwise."
"What have you done Kate…"
"John, do you recall operation Bloodhound on the 17th of-"
"Of September 2016. Of course, I do. What's your point?"
"The whole system crashed on us for a split second, enough for an outside message to force its way onto my laptop. My private laptop."
Grabbing the file out of Price's hands, Laswell pulled out a picture from the back of the folder and held it under his nose. It was a hastily taken picture of her screen. The standard issued black background was filled with blurry white 0's and 1's. At a second glance, Price detected letters that were embedded into the middle of the screen.
Hey! I have to confess, it took me significantly longer to breech your system, bonus points to you. Despite it, I recommend upping up your game. I'd love to help you out on that if you'll let me. :)
For a significant moment, he wasn't sure what exactly to make out of this… This message.
"John, she hacked the system in exactly six minutes and thirty-seven seconds."
Finally, the penny dropped, and Price knew exactly what that meant. He was… impressed. He regarded Laswell's knowledge and skill as very high and perhaps even unbeatable at times. To now know, that someone or rather a specific someone out there, managed to beat the master at her own game, fascinated him. Thinking back on the mission, specific points in time began to make more sense, the scattered pieces falling into place to create a larger picture.
"You went after her."
Laswell nodded, a smile forming on her lips. She had him wrapped around her finger, and she was proud to admit, that putting energy into her, had not been in vain. On the contrary, recruiting her, was an excellent move on her part if she dared say so herself.
"What's the catch? Price uttered the words he was dreading to ask but needed to know the answer to regardless.
Laswell's smile fell slightly, while the confidence in her voice never faded for a second.
"She is not ready yet. But she will be. Under my and your guidance… She is a quick learner."
"Kate…" Her name was uttered in frustration.
She decided not to expand her reasoning whatsoever. While she was in no position to specifically force him to take her in, he wasn't really in any position to bargain. As she had said before, she wasn't willing to fund outlaws, but she was willing to support assets. Maybe, Ascii, would be a good addition. He trusted Laswell's judgement, but what he believed in even more were actions that spoke louder than words.
"Now, what are you calling the task force?" Laswell asked after she saw the determination in his eyes.
"1-4-1."
26th October 2022, New Jersey, U.S.A., Air Force Base
The cool evening air blew against my sweaty forehead as I was finally able to step out of the aircraft, with trembling legs and heavy steps. Taking a deep breath, I straightened my posture and pressed the palm of my hands against my strained eyes.
It had been a long and tiring journey.
Pulling my hands from my face, I brushed them against my dark pants. Any colour that may have transferred from the skin-to-skin contact was now evidently gone from the places I did not explicitly wish for it to be. Readjusting the straps of my backpack, that hung barely on my shoulders, I felt eyes on me.
Looking around, I noticed a silhouette standing approximately ten meters away from me. Zeroing in on the mysterious watcher, I took note of a small flickering red light that seemed to appear and disappear depending on the position its limb seemed to be. At one point, it was on its lower half, or rather on the height of its hips, in the next second, the red light appeared in front of its face. When it did, smoke would appear around it, but what caught my attention, was the hat the specific individual wore. It wasn't just any hat.
Smiling under my mask, I walked up to him with a slightly more excited energy in my step.
"Captain Price!" I called out when I was close enough.
"Ascii." He grunted back with a smile of his own and a cigar between his teeth. "Welcome to New Jersey, how was your flight?"
"Peachy." I sarcastically waved him off.
Earning a quick once over from him, he urged me to follow with a simple bow of his head. Picking up the pace, I caught up to him easily and set to a comfortable silence beside him. Glancing over, I took him in as much as I could, without making it too obvious. He didn't look that much different from the last time I saw him, but vastly different from the first time I had the pleasure of meeting him.
His eyes held sadness in them, sorrow, that was hidden behind a nonchalant façade. But sometimes, it would glimmer through, and at times I would be present to those moments. When his guard crumbled only slightly, and his true emotions fought its way to the front. After all the eyes were called the windows to your soul for a reason. Peeling mine off of his, I followed the curve of his nose, further over his moustache and to his lips.
"You are staring, Corporal." His silky voice violently brought me back to earth.
"And you are still smoking, Capitano." Pronouncing the last word mockingly, to avert his attention from the fact that I was indeed staring at him, I continued. "Hasn't the doctor told you it's not good for your health?"
"What doesn't kill me, makes me stronger." He huffed back and I laughed. At least his humour was still intact.
Stepping into view of a small building, I carefully took it in.
"This is our main base of operation. You will see we all have our own small 4 walls to call home."
Arching an eyebrow, I turned towards him with a questioning gaze.
"Curtesy of General Shepherd." He answered my unsaid question.
I hummed in awe.
Arriving at the front door, Price punched in the code and stepped inside, eyes focusing on me he saw me memorize the hand movements he did while entering the code. Allowing him to step in first, I quickly followed after him, making sure to close the heavy door behind me. I took in every door we walked past, read every name that was written on.
The first one to passed was the Captain's door, directly opposite of him, was Kyle "Gaz" Garrick. I smiled under my mask as pictures of distant memories came fourth. Moving along we walked past Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish's room and last but not least, Lieutenant Simon Riley aka Ghost. The last couple of steps, brought us to a door slightly further away from everyone else. At first glance, it seemed like any other door, but there in the middle, slightly above my own height, was my name written into it. My heart rate sped up. I would have my own room?
I looked back at Price with a questioning gaze. He gave me an encouraging nod and a smile. Turning back towards the door, I took hold of the handle and opened it. Stepping inside I glanced around the small room. It was perfect. It genuinely did not matter to me how it looked or how much space it harboured for me. I was already speechless at the fact I even got my own room. I had not had my own space in three years.
"You can leave your things here. Right now, I need you in my office."
Looking over my shoulder, I threw my backpack gently against the bedframe and turned on my heels. Stepping into the lit corridor I followed Price's retreating form to his office. Walking into it, I closed the door behind me and stood in front of his desk.
Price didn't beat long around the bush and came straight to the point, to my own relief.
"As you are already familiar with Gaz, I don't need to introduce you. Soap on the other hand, arrived a couple of hours before you. I'm sure you'll be able to make acquaintances in the morning."
… My mind was blank as I listened to him.
"Ghost is not present and won't be, until your next mission."
Disappointment rained down on me and I straightened my back further to get rid of it. Noticing Price's hand gesture for me to take a step closer, I followed suit.
"Through your intel, we could confirm a concentration of AQ fighters converging in the valley. We believe they are protecting something. Surveillance indicates soldiers guarding three structures-", he pointed to the map laying on his table. "Major Hassan may be holed up inside. Ghost and Soap will lead a Marine Special Operations unit to kill or capture Hassan."
"When?"
"Tomorrow, you will fly to Al Mazrah, U.R.A. The mission begins in the night."
I nodded.
"One helo will insert two teams at separate offset points bordering the target area... Bravo team will sweep and clear buildings one and two-", Price's finger hovered over the two closest buildings before moving to the third, slightly more secluded structure. "Alpha team takes building three."
"We want Hassan alive for interrogation, but be advised, the major is AQ's lifeline. If he is there, they will die for him."
I looked him in the eye already understanding the hidden meaning behind his words.
"Ascii, this mission is kill or be killed. Don't let it be the latter, you hear me?"
Straightening, I exclaimed a confident yes sir. Watching him rise to his full height again, he stepped around his desk and walked into my personal space. I stiffened slightly, as his right hand rose to my shoulder and grasped it softly, squeezing it firmly.
"You are stationed with team Alpha. Your mission, beside taking in building three, is to breach through any devices that may be found. Work your magic on them. If it gets too hot, wait for Soap and Ghost. As much as I trust you and know that you can handle yourself, you are not alone. Use that to your advantage."
"I read ya." I answered back. Awkwardly shifting on my feet, I spoke again. "May I speak freely?"
"You may always speak freely with me, Sinja."
Goosebumps formed on the back of my neck as my name rolled of his lips. In the past 3 years, we slowly grew closer. I would never call him by his first name, afraid to cross an invisible line I set up for myself, but he called me by mine and I enjoyed it either way. It was his way of telling me that I wasn't only a soldier. I was a person under his protection, his oath. I knew, anytime he called me by my real name, we would talk as equals. He wasn't only my superior after all; he was my mentor and to some degree I would call him my friend.
Clenching my jaw, I willed my mouth to move. Eyebrows furrowing, eyes slightly glazing over. I was thankful for the black face paint that covered the light skin around my eyes and further up my forehead until it reached my hairline. The mask that clung to my jaw, provided me with anonymity I so desperately grew accustomed to. The hood that threw a large shadow over my face, worked in my favour more times than I cared to admit.
"I am doubting myself, sir."
He placed his left hand on my other shoulder, turning my whole body towards him and forcing me to either stare at his chest or look up at him. Choosing the latter, my blue eyes were caught in his own. His eyes softened; crow's feet charming their way into my rapidly beating heart.he pHe
"Doubt is human. Everyone struggles with it at times." He spoke softly to me, as if concerned that I would shy away otherwise.
"Even you?" I whispered. I felt embarrassed, going as far as feeling ashamed of my question, of my human emotions, of my humanity.
"Especially me."
Especially him? In this moment, he sounded as if he was far away. Reminiscing in a memory, that happened a lifetime ago. Maybe even an event from a different life. I watched, as his eyes strayed slightly each to their own side. I knew this look all too well. What has he experienced in these long years to cause him such pain?
As rapidly as the look overcame him, the quicker he was back and fully focused on me again.
"But doubt can only fester if you let it. If you give into it. If you tell yourself, it is right, give it a home to thrive in." He squeezed my shoulders again, and my hands flew automatically up, covering his with my own gloved ones. I squeezed them in return and as quickly as I did it, I let go, arms falling limply against my sides.
"How much do the others know?" I asked hesitantly.
He pulled away and sat partly on his desk. "Officially, you have joined under my command in late 2019 and since then worked your way up to Corporal. Unofficially, you have been working for Laswell three years prior. The members of this unit… know that."
My fingers twitched at the information.
"Listen, Shepherd had to approve this task force, including you-"
"Sir, I fully understand it. What bothers me is…" I sighed. "I am just surprised I was authorized to join you."
"Kate has a way with words…" Price answered and smiled down at me.
A way with words, my ass. I wasn't sure what to make out of his absurd answer. While I did not initially doubt that she in fact, had a way with words, I doubted only words would have allowed me to join them. Granted a rookie, which I definitely was at that time, to just casually join a task force. And not just any task force. A crew of people who have bested their peers and made a name for themselves. A squad of deadly people with years of experience under their belts. A group of experts.
"Okay." I mumbled, unsure what else to say. Sensing the conversation was over, as neither he nor I said anything more, and the silence began to feel rather awkward, I turned on my heels and bailed towards the door. Just as I was about to reach it, I heard him call my name and I paused.
"Sinja. If there is anything you need, don't be afraid to talk to me. My door is always open to you."
I looked over my shoulder. "Anything?" I asked, unsure if he really meant that.
"Anything." He confirmed with a stern nod.
He didn't mean it that way.
"Maybe one day I'll take you up on that offer, Captain."
With that I turned away and hastily made my way to my quarters. Stepping into the dark room, I closed the door behind me with a soft click and leaned against it. Pressing a hand against my chest, I could feel my heart beating rapidly under my trembling fingers.
What have I gotten myself into?
Taking several deep breaths, I pushed myself off the wall and sat on the rather soft bed. Shepherd had been generous. Slowly removing my gloves off my hands, I placed them beside me. Leaning slightly back, I turned my head to the side and stared out the window. The moonlight, was bouncing off the walls and structures, casting the environment in soft light. I silently watched a group of soldiers walk past my bedroom window as John's words echoed through my head.
The agitation slowly built up in my head, until it became unbearable, and my clear mind began to fall into chaos. His words should have had a positive impact on me, after all, the Captain indirectly complimented me. Price, who was highly regarded by many and respected by even more. Anyone else in my position would boast in it, scream it on top of their lungs. Instead, I was sulking in my dark room, drowning in my disbelief, scepticism, and fears. One day, I will have to face the fact, that I was not as terrible as I tend to paint myself in my own head. But today, was not the day. In fact, maybe the day won't ever come.
With trembling fingers, I pulled the hood off my head, letting it fall against my back. Sliding my hands over my head, down the sides, past my ears and to my jaw, my fingers pressed against the clasps and pulled, releasing the mask. It slowly slid off, falling into my lap, where it bounced off of and with a cluttering noise slammed to the ground. Bending over, I snatched it off the floor, and held it up, accessing the damage. There was none. With a huff, I threw it beside me and hid my face in my hands.
I felt it now, clear as day, the panic that took hold of my heart, pooled in the pit of my stomach, and expanded to every corner of my body. Tears pooled in the outer corners of my eyes, slowly sliding over my lash line, and causing my vision to blur. Clearing my throat only further agitated my already tightening muscles. Pain began to bloom in it as I desperately tried to keep myself calm, tried to keep my tears at bay.
In a last attempt to tame the storm that was brewing, I pressed my nail against my skin and slid them forcefully over my temples. I felt the body paint get stuck beneath my short nails but ignored it, all in hopes to keep me in check. Alas, the flood gates opened, and tears began to stream down my face. At first it was only one, but soon more joined as they ran down my cheeks, between by fingers and down my exposed arms. Quite sobs echoed through the dark room as all I felt was pure agony.
Suddenly the world around me was too loud. My sobs were echoing in my head, like loud jarring screaming. My fingers felt upsettingly cold against my burning skin, my hair was poking into my sensitive and raw cheeks. The clothes I normally enjoyed wearing, suddenly felt too tight, too restricting. My breath became laboured, and it became hard to control the volume of my sobs.
It was another of my derealization episodes. I knew I was real, my life was real, but still at times my mind would drive me against a wall, and I would wish I could just disappear. Leave everything behind, cut myself free. Flow through the endless universe and jump from one adventure to the next. Why stop at this world if I could just end it and begin anew?
Get a grip on yourself!
A knock made me jump out of my skin and I quieted down. Listening closely, if the knock had really been at my door, another one resonated through the quiet room.
"Fuck."
My fingers brushed over my face, hopelessly trying to smudge the black colour towards the areas where I thought it might have faded from. Quickly standing up, I pulled the hood over my head and grabbed my mask. I stumbled towards the door and ripped it open, despite my mask not being completely secure on my face. Hand holding up my mask, my eyes fell upon a man slightly taller than I. The first thing I noticed were the deep blue eyes staring back at me. Freely letting my own gaze roam over the man in record time, I took note of as many details as I could and saved them into a folder in my head.
I noted that his hair was buzzed at the sides, leaving a smaller patch of long, messy hair in the middle. The patch stretched from just above his forehead to supposedly his neck. Professionals would simply call it a mohawk. A hairstyle I had not seen many men wear let alone pulling it off as good as he did. Inspecting him further, I noticed a deep scar slightly hidden beneath his dark and short beard. The scar was located on his chin, and for a short moment I wondered what the story behind it was, until I realized it reminded me of a crack that would only appear on porcelain that wasn't handled with care…
With a quick and effective glance towards the ground, I deducted he wore casual clothing; simple blue jeans and a grey shirt that clung a bit too tightly onto his muscles. He should have bought a bigger shirt if it was that tight. Eyes shooting back up, I saw his lips moving.
"Awh shoot, were you already sleepin'? Captain told me ya just arrived."
"Ahh no, no, I was getting ready for it, but wasn't sleeping yet." Stretching my hand towards him, my eyes followed his own gaze, down my arm and to my fingers. They were dirty. "Oh fuck, sorry." I exclaimed embarrassed. Pulling my hand back, his hand shot forward and shook mine with a firm grip.
"Soap MacTavish." He introduced himself. "Some paint won't kill me, eh?"
"No, I guess not." I answered back, with wide eyes and a stiff snort behind my mask. "You can call me Ascii."
"Ascii…? That's how ya pronounce it!"
"Yeah, Ascii as in Husky just without the H." I winced inwardly. I tell him my name, pronounce it as clear as I can, and then decide to explain to him how to rightfully articulate it?! Have I fallen on my head today? It was the jet lag, wasn't it? Yep, jet lag it is.
"Gotcha!" He sent a charming smile my way and I couldn't help but return it, squashing my qualms under my boot and kicking it into the furthest corner of my mind. My mask moved slightly upwards as my cheeks pushed against it. With a half-covered face, not entirely being able to show emotion was a blessing as well as a curse at times. Hoping my eyes portrayed my feelings well enough, I sobered up in a matter of seconds as I thought about the upcoming day.
"Ehm, actually, do you know anything more about tomorrow?"
"Haven't ya been briefed in?"
I furrowed my brows and tilted my head slightly to the side, hand shooting up I nervously gripped the back of my neck through the hood.
"Well, 'bout the mission yes. About tomorrows… day plan, not really."
"Oh, standard routine. We'll be on our way at 0900 on the point. What we do before that, is up to us."
I hummed in appreciation. "That makes sense." It did not make any sense whatsoever. Up until now, I always followed a strict daily routine I had either been given or made up myself. But since I was stationed directly under Captain Price, this small detail changed. There was no one urging me to keep up to inhuman times and standards. While I still wished to keep myself in my best form, maybe I did not need to wake up at 4:30 AM to achieve that…
"Yah, well, won't be bothering ya anymore. I'll see ya in the morning, lass." He sent another smile my way and turned around.
You are not bothering me.
"Yeah, see you tomorrow, Soap. Sleep tight!" I called out after him. He looked over his shoulder, lifted a hand into the air with a small wave and disappeared into his own room.
I stood rooted in the doorway a moment longer, processing the past minutes. He seemed sweet. John "Soap" MacTavish. Shaking my head, I finally managed to get a grip on myself and stepped back into my room. Hastily making my way to the small bathroom, I nearly went blind from the lights I so hurriedly turned on. Hissing, I peeked through my half-opened lids, and went completely still when I caught sight of myself in the mirror. The trusty black face paint I typically wore on my exposed areas, was partially gone, making way for the pale skin underneath. Further inspecting myself, I noticed my eyes were red and slightly puffy, but what really caught me off guard, were the angry red lines starting at my temple and running down the side of my face, ending just below my mask…
"Bloody hell…"
I sat silently at the table, far away from any prying eyes and stared down the food that laid lifeless on the plate bellow me. The canteen was filled to the teeth, but luckily a group of soldiers just went their way when I stepped into the facility. Quickly picking out the food, I conquered the empty space, I had been eyeing this whole time.
Huffing, I began unclasping the lower half of my mask. I would never fully remove it, but push it away from my mouth just enough, so I could squeeze my fingers underneath it and plop food into my mouth. The food was halfway on the road to my lips, when I noticed a man sit down opposite of me. I tensed.
"There you are. How'd ya sleep, lass?"
Looking at him briefly, I went on with my activity and answered between bites.
I slept terribly. "It was okay. How about you? Slept well, Soap?"
"Aye I slept awrite." He answered. My ears clearly heard him, but my brain could not process the words correctly.
"That's… good, yeah?"
"'Tis good, yeah."
We continued sitting in silence, both occupied with our own minds. Between bites, I watched my surroundings carefully. Soldiers of all different heights and sizes came and went. Friends sat beside friends, conversing, joking, laughing. I felt a slight pang shoot through my heart, as I realized how alone I had really been the past years. Joining the army at the age of 21 instead of the usual 18 years or younger, already got some people talking. Wearing a mask 24/7, put another target on my back, not even mentioning that I was a woman, of all the things.
Humans were rather similar after all, weren't they? It did not matter where you were, the pattern was always the same. Bullies could not be outrun. What was blatant in school, was now hidden under innocent glances, whispering and snarky comments. Despite my efforts of getting to know people, men would often look down on me and the small number of women I was lucky enough to meet, weren't around me for long enough to establish any sort of relationship.
But not everyone was black and white. There were also men that respected me, and I respected them in return. Were it the teammates I had while on missions or the comrades I met while stationed in different sections. There weren't many of them, and I could probably count them easily on two hands, but I was sure there were many more I had not met yet. At least that is what I always told myself. I was a hopeless optimist, constantly seeing the best in people, even if they wronged me on multiple occasions.
At times, I had endured too much for my own liking, but I was desperate, and desperation sullies the border between acceptable and unacceptable behaviour. Until I met Kyle. Beside Captain Price and Laswell, he was one of the few people, that saw me for who I was as an individual. The friendship that bloomed between us, was slow paced at first, as I struggled to open up to him. I got so used to being on my own, I mis-learned the fundamentals that were needed to establish any kind of relationships or rather, friendships.
But it didn't take me all too long to come around, and my efforts bared fruit. We had become good friends, sharing pictures and videos, talking about everything and anything. We had once gone out to drink. It was my first time going to a bar in my three years abroad. All in all, it was a lovely evening I would not swap for anything in the world. It began lightly, just two people enjoying each other's company, while sipping our favourite drinks. Until my tongue slipped, and I asked about his RTI testing.
I was taken aback when he answered, as I was already mentally preparing myself to apologize for my insensitive question. In the upcoming hours, Kyle opened up to me. He talked about the interrogation methods, the humiliation and torture, what it did to him and the consequences. Everything sounded surreal in my novice ears, but the emotions he displayed while reminiscing his experience, brought me more than once to tears. That evening, I offered him a short-lived hug and a pledge, that anytime he needed someone to talk to, I would welcome him with open arms. He promised me the same in return, but I have yet to take him up on his offer…
Pulling myself out of my head, I glanced at my new teammate. He was quietly enjoying his meal, while eyeing the people around him. I wordlessly wished that our friendship would flourish, as it did with Gaz. Although I was also relatively close with Captain Price, he was still my superior. I could not just casually walk up to him and ask him if he wanted to hang out with me, now, could I? Such a bold move would spread like wildfire, and I definitely was not ready for that.
Soap caught my eye as I stared shamelessly at him. "How's the mask working out for ya?"
Caught in the act, I cleared my throat nervously. "A bit annoying while eating… otherwise, quite the handy thing to have. No one knows what faces I am pulling underneath it." I laughed a small, breathless laugh. The sound felt alien to my ears. For years now, I only heard the voice that was muffled by thick layers of fabric and hard plastic.
"Sticking a tongue out to ya Captain, yeah?"
I shushed him, "don't reveal my secrets!"
We both laughed at the silliness alas he sobered up quickly and genuinely seemed hesitant. I arched an eyebrow at him. What question was on his mind?
"Why do you wear it? If ye don't mind me askin'."
I could easily tell his question came from genuine curiosity. His eyes betrayed him, when they slipped from mine as he asked his question, just to focus back on me when he had uttered the words, no doubt waiting for my reaction.
"I don't mind you asking." I waved him off, as I looked down and thought it over. What would I tell him? The whole truth or just a simple solution?
"Well, there is not a fancy reason behind it honestly." I clasped the mask back on, growing irritated by my own voice. "I think anonymity is the biggest factor..." When Laswell and I had our first long conversation about the possibility of me joining the military, I confessed a deep fear of mine. Although I had no solid reason, and the apprehension came from consuming too many movies and video games, I voiced my ridiculous concerns. I was afraid that someone, long down the road I would walk on, would recognise me, or remember my face and find their way to my family. I had seen it before, and this angst, stuck with me like a parasite. Laswell was kind enough to elaborate that not everything portrayed in movies was as silly as it seemed. Even producers sometimes took inspiration from real cases.
But was that really all? Or did I also wear it because I was self-conscious? Scared people could read me like an open book, see my lips tremble when I got yelled at, face turning beet red when ashamed or when my mouth deforms as I will myself not to cry…
"Why, curious what's underneath it?" I asked playfully, eyebrows wiggling at him.
"Always. I gotta know when ya mock me, so I can mock ya back!"
This time I laughed wholeheartedly, and several soldiers turned towards us, a spectacle I was oblivious to. Soap had my whole attention with his contagious smile, and I felt a blush creep up my neck and indulge my cheeks in a rosy tint. I wiped a stray tear from my eye and dramatically rubbed it off my long-sleeved turtleneck. He snorted at my action.
"So… Do you have anything planned until we are on our way?" I asked when we had calmed down again.
"Likely hang out in the common room. Want to join me?"
"We have a common room?" I asked, puzzled.
"Captain Price really did an ill jab on showing ya around." He snickered and I couldn't agree more.
For the next half an hour, I followed him around like a stray puppy, as he showed me every nick and cranny we came across. I counted about ten different structures containing various kinds of equipment and each rocking their own unique function. Only after he had showed me around, I had realized how big the actual base was. It took my breath away.
While we walked around, I spotted Soap observing me every time I looked at him. I knew my eyes were very expressive, let alone in a new environment, but I still wondered what urged him to keep looking at me. Fighting off my curiosity, I watched as soldiers walked past us, nodding in his direction. When their eyes landed on me, their gaze changed to one of interest. Curtly nodding my own head, I spared them no second glance. I had seen those looks before, and they implied nothing worthwhile.
"How did ya even find the canteen?" Soap casually asked as we finally arrived in the infamous common room of the task force 1-4-1.
"I followed my nose." I spoke with all the seriousness I could muster. His reaction was priceless. His face changed from surprise to confusion in a matter of seconds and although I gave it my best, I could not hold back my laughter for too long. "You should have seen your face!" I called out as I burst out laughing, holding my tummy while sitting on the sofa beside him. "In all seriousness, I was lucky. Went out the building and followed the mass. Et voila, I was in the canteen."
"A whole ass adventurer."
"Absolutely. Even signed the papers and ran with it towards the building, screaming I'm going on an adventure!" I called out while I imitated the run with my arms flailing beside me.
"Careful, or Bilbo will become jealous of ya." Soap added to my humour.
My cheeks were hurting from the constant smiling I had participated in in the past hour while my heart was warming up at the thought of another teammate that I seemed to share more than just the same work with.
Oh boy, where to begin.
First of all, English is not my first language. Apologies if I mispronounce or misuse certain words.
Second, I am no soldier. I was never in the military; hence, I do not exactly know how everything works. I have researched quite a lot to minimize the number of mistakes, but even google cannot help me with everything. I still hope you won't be pulled out of the immersion because of it.
And third but not least, anytime Ascii is sleeping, not in the right state of mind or simply unconscious, the point of view will change to third person. I thought that might be a neat detail and allow us to sometimes see what other characters think/act in those moments.
Thank you for reading.
P.S.: This story can also be found on FanFiction under the same username.
Update 20th of August 2023: Added about 1.7k words, as I have misplaced the cut in my document. Apologies for that.
