"Ascii!"

It screamed out my name with a deep growl that turned into a high-pitched screeching. Pressing my hands against my ears, I closed my eyes in pain. The sound was penetrating my whole body with ease, and I found myself yelling just as shrill to cancel out its noise. I sat on my knees, hands over my ears and hunched forward, trying to make myself as small as humanly possible, but nothing helped. I laid on the ground and curled in on myself, hands sliding to my hair and pulling at it. The pain was unbearable, and I felt fluid run out of my ears and down my neck. Abruptly, everything was silent and slowly, I let go off my hair and opened my eyes. There was nothing, just the endless, dark void.

I leaned on my arms, and slowly pulled myself to a sitting position, frantically looking around myself. It was unnerving, and I felt the fear picking at my brain. Turning my head for the last time, I hauled my body back in terror, heart jumping out of my chest. The soldier's face had nearly touched my own.

His mouth was stretched unnaturally wide causing the corners of his mouth to rip, similar to old fabric that was being torn into pieces. His eyes, bloodshot, stared at me, and I felt as if he was staring right into my soul. Petrified, I could only watch as blood spilled out of his eyes, slowly spilling down his sharp cheekbones, over his clothing until it pooled at his feet. The thick and tacky liquid spread viciously, leaving me to its mercy as it slowly soaked through my own clothes.

Another scream and I began thrashing. I would not go down here. I pushed myself away and managed to turn, landing on my knees and hands. Crawling away frenziedly, I pushed, pulled, and twisted my limbs to escape the nightmare, unsuccessfully. I felt its fingers press down on my back and leisurely make their way over my spine to my shoulders, where it grabbed me with all their might and shook me.

Ripping my eyes open, I stared at a concerned Soap. Tearing myself from his touch, I stumbled out of my bed and forced distance between us.

"Ascii?" He called out, softly, as to not startle me again.

"I am awake and present!" I called out and stood straight, ignoring the sweat that clung to me, the heat that radiated off of my trembling body.

"Woah there. Ascii, all's fine." Soap tried to reason with me, arms slightly outstretched as a precaution I guessed.

I analysed the room around me and noticed a few differences from the previous time I was awake. "Where are we going? What's the new mission?"

He just stared at me. "How-"

"The beds are done. Ghost isn't here. You also seem to be ready to depart. You are fully clothed; your backpack is neatly placed at the foot of your bed but close enough for you to quickly grab it if needed." I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes before commenting, "and your hair isn't messy." I snorted.

"That's right. But are you good lass?" He took a hesitant step towards me, as if I was a wounded animal in need of help, in need of reassurance, in need of compassion.

"Peachy." I waved him off, stretched my strained body, causing a number of bones to crack under the pressure. Show no fear.

"Nightmare?" He asked.

I didn't answer him at first, deciding to get moving and pack my things instead. I didn't have a due time yet but preferred to have a head start, nevertheless. Wherever we were going, it seemed to be important, but the longer I stayed silent and buried in my own head, the more I felt like an ass. "Yeah… Nightmare." I whispered through the uncomfortable silence that surrounded us.

"From last night?" He voiced his question while watching me move along.

I hummed.

"The soldier?"

I nodded. Of course, it was him. The man that leaned half dead against the wall. The man whose eyes turned from stunned to terrified and last but not least, acceptance. I could see his world crumble in the short amount of time we had locked eyes. The agony that bloomed on his face, the growing panic and at last, recognition that he had lived his life. I felt nauseous thinking about it.

"Private Jones's chance of survival was low. Even if we would have tried to move him when I mentioned it, Lt. would have intervened and ordered us to take positions at the windows." Soap explained carefully.

Now it was my turn to drop the clothing item I had in my hands, rise to my height and stare at him dumbfounded. "How do you know that?" My voice trembled.

"He told me."

I smiled a bitter-sweet smile, feeling moisture gather in my eyes. Why would Ghost tell Soap that? Strangely, it calmed me down, knowing that perhaps it wasn't my fault for his demise, that regardless of what we would have done, his time would have been cut short either way. It felt strange, not knowing the reason behind Ghost's decision to inform Soap of his intentions. Maybe Ghost knew I would mull over it for a while, maybe he had been in a similar position once or twice and knew what a human's brain is capable of. Maybe, that was his own way of caring for his teammate's wellbeing. "I hope he is in a better place now." Turning away from him once more, I pushed my emotions to the side. "How much time do I have?"

"Fifteen minutes." He spoke tenderly.

"What's our destination?"

"Captain wants us back on base."

I furrowed my brows. "Anything else? Or just that?"

"Just that."

"Then, do I want to know why I am the only one that isn't ready yet? Why did you let me sleep in?"

There was no answer. Turning, I looked at him. He was scratching the back of his head in slight embarrassment. "Ghost told me to let ya sleep in." He pulled his lips into a small awkward smile while evading my eyes.

He what now? "I- don't understand. Why would he say that? I am not injured or impeded in some other way." I said, baffled.

"Is it that unbelievable?"

Yes! "I don't know what to believe yet, Soap. Ghost is a very… Complex character. Very reserved as well..."

"That he indeed is. But don't mistake reserved for heartlessness."

Quietly, I packed up and was ready in under six minutes. Checking out Soap again, I looked a couple of times between us. He sported his usual jeans and a shirt while I was still in my sleeping garments; some simple trousers, and a shirt. Just the right amount of clothes to spring into action for when the situation calls for it, but also not presentable enough to debrief with Price and probably Gaz. With a huff, I pulled out a set of fresh attire out of the backpack and inspected the clean black hood. Silently thanking the designer of this piece of art, I looked at Soap again.

He had already anticipated my request and slipped out of the room, backpack in hand.

Staring at the closed door slightly longer, I peeled off my clothes in record speed. Dabbing off the sweat simultaneously, I pulled the fresh clothes on. A few clicking sounds later, all the clasps of my mask were closed tightly, and the hood was clasped into place. Stuffing everything in my own backpack, I checked over the room again and when I was certain nothing was left behind, I stepped through the door.

Soap was patiently waiting, leant against the wall.

"Ready?" He questioned.

"Yeah…" I yawned under my mask. "Let's hurry so I can go back to sleep."

"Sleepyhead."

I slapped his arm playfully as we walked side by side to the helo.

29th of October 2022, somewhere in the sky

The flight was atrociously boring. I had been sitting in my designated seat, nervously changing positions, but the exhaustion I felt deeply in my bones, wasn't enough to lull me back to sleep. Weary, from the fight that went partly south, from the horrible losses and the failed execution of our plan, I stared out the window. I watched the clouds zoom past us, the wings of the aircraft that shook lightly and the sun that blinded me with its burning rays. Closing my eyes, I quickly pushed them back open when the gruesome pictures began to cloud my vision yet again. I saw the faces of our fallen allies, the blood that was smeared across the chopper's walls, the torn and tattered flesh… Gulping uneasily, I glanced to the other side.

The two sleeping beauties sat beside me, just on the other side of the aisle. I smiled softly at them, glad that at least someone could fall asleep and wallow in their sweet dreams. Shamelessly I kept staring at them, taking advantage of the situation, I analysed them. Soap gave off a kind and cosy aura. His face was turned to the side, particularly in my direction and his mouth was slightly ajar. If I wanted to, I could count every hair that made up his short beard and every perfect imperfection that made his face unique. With the sun shining through the window behind me and casting a soft glow over him, he looked several years younger than he was.

He looked beautiful.

Glancing at Ghost, the latter was sitting still, reminding me once again how unhuman he seemed at times. He visibly mastered the skill of being motionless, but even he had to breathe. And when I would narrow my eyes to focus on his chest, I could see the faintest of movements, confirming my suspicions. He was either in a deep slumber or he was just pretending to be asleep. Assuming the first option was the right one, I had a thought penetrate my mind.

Deciding on a whim, I carefully slid out of my seat under the disguise of wishing to stretch my legs. Keeping an eye on both of them, I couldn't stop the urge that befall me. They looked so peaceful. Standing there, in the middle of the aisle, I contemplated if I should take out my phone and take a picture, or just simply walk away. Not being able to resist for too long, I pulled out my phone. Holding it up with trembling hands from the fear of getting caught, I took several quick pictures. Just to be on the safe side, I told myself. Slipping it into my back pocket again, I swiftly walked away with a small smile on my face and a cheerful swing to my hips.

Strolling past empty seats, I stumbled upon stairs that presumably connected the upper deck with the lower. Glancing around myself, I fed into my curiosity and took the stairs to the bottom deck. At first, I was careful to walk as quietly as I could, but when I caught sight of the equipment stored bellow, my mouth fell open and I began skipping stairs instead.

Jumping over the last step, my eyes laid upon a tank, that sat secured between the massive walls of the aircraft. Correction, there were two tanks stationed on the massive deck, firmly secured one behind the other. With wide eyes, I walked up to the closer one and stared at it in awe. I had seen such massive machinery before, but never this close. For a brief moment, I forgot that we were actually on an aeroplane and soaring through the skies. I was slightly baffled when I realized that.

Taking my sweet time inspecting the supplies and walking around, my ears perked up when I heard someone coming down the steel stairs. The distinguished sound of metal creaking caused me to break out in a cold sweat. Was I even allowed here? I ducked behind the side of the tank and glanced around hastily for a hideout. Cursing, I stood rooted at the tank's wheels like a deer caught in headlights. There was no place to hide.

An enthusiastic hello pulled me out of my thoughts. I was certain the way I felt was visible on my face, despite it being partly hidden. Coughing awkwardly, I stood straight and apologised right away for dwelling in places I probably shouldn't be to begin with. Hurriedly promising that it won't happen again, I somewhat began turning clumsily on my heels, when the young man held up his hands in surrender.

"Now hold on, there's no need to Sir me. I'm just a loadmaster, not a Sergeant. But you, you're Corporal Morrison? Stationed in the TF141?"

"Why, yes. How did you know?" Why did I ask that? We were the only-

"You are the only passengers on this plane-" now he thinks I am stupid, "beside the usual personnel. We've been told right before our scheduled take off, that you'll join us…" He began to nervously fidget with his fingers. "I've never been this close to any of you guys, this is amazing!"

I was caught completely off guard.

"How is it? Being in a task force? Is it badass? Do you get to do a lot of cool stuff? Interrogating, chasing… Murder? Are there any unpleasantries? Any bickering? Fights? What about Ghost?" He stepped a bit closer to whisper, while I tensed and watched him warily. "Is he as scary as they say?"

That was definitely a first one for me.

"Slow down…" I began while checking if he had his name written anywhere on his outfit-

"Sorry. Ma'am, my bad." He took a healthy step back, out of my personal space.

"Jeez, I'm not that old. Just call me Ascii. Garry, is it?" He nodded and bounced excitedly on his heels. "Where to begin with all the questions you just asked me…" I leaned against the wall and discreetly looked him over. He looked young, very young. Maybe seventeen, eighteen? Has he ever been in a team? How does one even become a loadmaster? What preparations must one undergo? I had no idea. "Essentially, a task force is not that different from a regular team. I suppose, we are vastly tasked for specific areas of knowledge instead of an all-around type of situation."

"What is your expertise?"

"I am the go-to person that's proficient at… prying out information from modern technology." That was hard to spell out.

"You are good with numbers then? And quick with your fingers?" His eyes gleamed.

That's one way to put it. "I am."

"How does it look like? Like in the movies? You just type things into the keyboard and extract the files?

I chuckled. "No, that would be too easy. It's far more complicated than that, otherwise anyone could do it." I shook my head in amusement while he laughed.

"Is… Has Ghost, I mean Lieutenant Riley, killed someone with just his bare fist?"

What kind of question is that?! I shrieked in my head.

"Why would he want to do that if he has several weapons at his disposal? I doubt he would see it as a 'fun' activity… Beside it wouldn't be efficient." And barbaric. Disrespectful even. Manslaughter isn't funny.

The boys smile turned into a frown. I watched concerned as his fingers held his chin, thinking over the answer I had just given. "Makes sense…" Makes sense? Who in their right mind would think otherwise? Never mind, scratch that. There are individuals who lust after blood... "What about Sergeant MacTavish? They say he can clean up a room in mere seconds! Oh, oh! And that he can headshot someone from a thousand meters away!"

People clearly have too much time on their hands. "I- yes. He is very efficient and skilful. While I can't confirm his knowledge when it comes to sniping, I can say for certain that after a certain distance, a body shot is just as lethal with a severely better lookout to actually hitting it. And a successful strike is worth more than a fancy shot."

"Woah… And Sergeant Garrick. How is he? They say he can be cold blooded…"

"I think any of us will act according to the situation. Sometimes, when there is too much on the line, we are prone to ascend down a path we normally wouldn't choose. But everything comes with a price and at the end of the day, we have to live with it."

He nodded in understanding and awe. "Speaking of price, what about Captain Price? Has he threatened anyone yet? Like, bad cop, good cop style?"

I sighed. "What on earth do people talk about around here?" I exclaimed and pinched the bridge of my nose.

"A lot. For example, they talk a lot about you too. They say you can hack even the most advanced of technologies in record time. Of course, I first had to make sure, you are The Colonel Morrison." Of course. "But they also say that you- that… Well…" He averted his eyes from me and stared at the ground in shame. I felt the undeniable bitterness taint my taste buds.

"Go on. What are people saying about me? That I slept my way up the ladder? That I bribed my way in? That I am hideous behind the mask?" The boy stayed silent. Why can't people mind their business? "Look, Garry. People love to pull others down or downplay their success. What you believe, is your choice and yours alone. I know how much time and effort I put into myself to stand where I stand now. If people want to talk behind my back, let them. The only ones that interest me, are the ones that don't feed in such rumours and decide to get to know me in person. If they dislike me after they got to talk to me, then that's fair enough and I respect that."

In truth, the rumours and blatant lies hurt. They always did and they always will. I always acted as if it didn't matter, as if it didn't bother me. But it does, sometimes so much that I silently cry myself to sleep. Humans are assholes.

"What about the mask?"

Why does no one ever ask Ghost why he wears a damn mask? No one bats an eye when the Lieutenant steps into the room, rather, they give him space and nearly kiss the ground he walks on. What is it, that makes him stand in such a different light? The rank? The gender? Reputation? Maybe all of it. No one messes with him, either because they fear the consequences or know he has enough authority to decide over their careers. Maybe I should build up my own bloody reputation, and people will finally leave me alone.

"Simple. Would you know who I was in a room full of people if I wore civilian clothes?"

"No…"

"There you have it. The simplest answer to your question."

"Is that why Ghost wears a mask?"

"Who knows… But, enough of that." I waved him off. "Would you be so kind and show me around a bit? Think I got some questions of my won now, seeing all this equipment..." I smiled and gestured with one hand around ourselves.

"Absolutely!" He announced enthusiastically.

We walked leisurely through the whole deck, stopping for every question I had and every detailed answer he gave me back.

What's the planes title? Lockheed C-5.

What kind of aircraft is this? A transport aircraft, suitable to carry outsized and oversized load, including all air-certifiable cargo.

I must admit, I have never seen it before. That's because there's only a small number of 'em.

I pointed at the tanks. And air-certifiable? What's that exactly? Tanks, as we can see, and I assume choppers and jets as well? Yep, basically everything that is approved for being transported via a plane.

What's the planes length then? About fifty meters.

Bloody hell.

Is the plane always that empty upstairs? Nope. Our initial take off would have been in a couple of days actually.

Did it change because of us? Partly.

Fair enough. Then, is it always this loaded with equipment? Often enough.

I pointed towards the tanks. What kind are those, the standard ones? Yeah, M1 Abrams.

This thing must way a ridiculous amount… How much is it, just the plane? Around one hundred ninety tons.

One hundred and ninety tons, and I was standing in the middle of the metal beast, soaring though the skies. At the thought of it, I began to feel slightly overwhelmed. In addition, the aircraft began to shake slightly, as if hearing my troubled thoughts. Tensing, I glanced around nervously. Garry was still explaining the aerodynamic masterpiece the plane was when it shook again. Bloody turbulences. Patiently waiting for him to finish, I thanked him for his time and excused myself to the washroom. I didn't really need to use it, but it was the perfect cover up for the actual reason I wanted to walk away.

When I was sure I was out of his sight, I ran up the stairs.

Stepping into the upper cabin, I clutched my stomach and leaned against the wall out of breath. While I was catching up with my own body, the plane shook again, and I felt my heart drop for the second time. I hate flying! With wide eyes, I straightened as best as I could, took a deep breath and walked down the aisle with false confidence. I wasn't supposed to show any fear, at all times. Noticing Soap was awake, and Ghost was nowhere to be seen, I acknowledged him with a nod and sat on my seat. Praying, that my heart would calm, and my breathing would ease. I cursed in my head when I heard Soap speak.

"You alright there?" He asked.

Shit.

"Peachy." I said and gave him a thumbs up.

Turning away from him, I tried to breathe normally but found that that wasn't working yet. I wasn't inhaling enough oxygen and gave up.

"What got ya pumping that much? Was th' devil efter ya?"

I snorted. "No. Just sprinted up the stairs."

"You were below deck, eh?" He uttered.

I nodded when there was another jolt. I tensed immediately. Checking my breathing, I talked myself down in my head repeatedly. Just a cloud. Nothing else. Just a silly little cloud. Another turmoil, and I clawed at the armrest. I despised flying, I really do. Not only because of the fact that I had been in a crash not even twenty-four hours ago. No, the fiasco with the helo, just gave me another reason to loath flying even more. I disliked it in general, having generated this dread and fear when I was still a child. Planes were unpredictable in an emergency. As a passenger, I couldn't do anything in a crash. Only hope, that the pilot was skilled enough to save us all.

Another small tremble and I was back to staring out the window and paraphrasing calming quotes in my head.

Time passed slowly, but at some point, I remembered the pictures I had taken earlier. Pulling my phone out with slight difficulties, as I was initially sitting on it, I unlocked it and looked through my saved pictures. Checking out every single one of them; I got rid of the ones that were either blurry, smudged or didn't pass the quality check. Left with a single picture, I zoomed in and inspected the two specimens again. They looked adorable.

At first, I went over Soaps sleeping form, mindful that my phone was turned towards myself at all times, before I zeroed in on Ghost's mask. I had managed to capture it flawlessly. Pleased with the number of details it displayed, I could see the cracks and smudges that littered the otherwise clean skull. Inspecting it further, it was the first time I noticed two white lines coming up from the back of Ghost's head, continuing on his skull mask, over the hollowed-out sockets until they reached the upper dentures, where they stopped. Scratching my head, I was baffled that I had not noticed them sooner.

Accidentally zooming back out and keeping my finger too long on my screen, the picture began to move, and I flinched. I had forgotten this phone had such a function, let alone that I had apparently accidentally activated it when I was taking the photos… I felt something tug at my heart strings, as I watched Soaps chest slowly rise and fall and Ghost sleep beside him. Keeping it on repeat for just a bit longer, I sucked in a shocked breath. Not believing my eyes, I pulled my phone closer, and focused on Ghost's eyes. Just as the video was about to replay, I could see his eyes open and side glance directly at me.

Feeling a cold shiver run down my spine, my face losing its colour, I locked my phone in record speed and shoved it under my leg. Just in time. Ghost was strolling towards us. He looked intimidating, with his head ducked slightly to not bump into the ceiling and his arms tightly by his sides, as to not crash into the seats around him. He stopped beside us and towered over our sitting forms.

"Change of plans. We are headed for Mexico. We are to accompany Alejandro Vargas. Arriving tomorrow 0930 hours. Be ready."

With that, he walked back the way he initially came from, while Soap and I looked at each other with a questioning gaze.

"What?" "What was that?" We exclaimed simultaneously over each other.

"Gimme a second, I'll check it out." I said to Soap and picked my phone from under my leg while he leaned on his armrest to stare at my phone as well. Unlocking it, I was horrified to see their photo was still open. Instantaneously swiping it away, I glanced at Soap from between my eyelashes.

He was already looking at me with raised eyebrows. "Taking pictures of us now, eh?" He smiled sweetly.

"It's not what it looks- I mean it is, but you… seemed so… Content and I wanted a reminder. It seemed like a good opportunity to take a picture. I'm sorry if I trespassed in your privacy. Won't happen again."

"Nah, it's fine. I often take them as well. And now that you mention it, I have never asked if 'twas okay to take 'em." He pushed his fingers through his hair in thought. "With that being said, I'm giving ya full permission to take pictures of and with me. I'm sure Lt. will agree."

"I don't think Ghost would agree with you…" I whispered and he just shrugged his shoulders with mischievous twinkling in his eyes.

Concentrating back on my phone, I checked for more info on the matter at hand. My fingers slid smoothly over the surface and with a few calculated and precise clicks, I got the information I needed.

"Apparently, Captain Price and Gaz were already in Amsterdam. Their mission was prolonged, after Laswell had sent them to infiltrate a dock, promising to join them soon after. Following the intel they got, they intervened a meeting between AQ and the Iranians. The man they caught, talked fairly quickly, and revealed Hassan has planned to cross the border between Mexico and the US."

"Fuck. He wouldn't dare." Soap called out.

I hummed. "He would and he did. He slipped through their fingers and that's how we come into play. General Shepherd is sending us in to support the Mexican Special Forces, along with Phillip Graves and his Shadows…"

"Do they know where Hassan is?"

"Gimme a second…" I swiped through several more screens until I found the one, I was looking for. "Yes and no. They have a hunch but no solid proof… yet. Hassan has been taken back into cartel protection in Las Almas. That's the last info they got."

Soap leaned against the back of his seat.

"I don't like this. Not one bit." I bit out, after reading through most of the missions' report.

"What is it?"

"Hassan is moving something sizeable towards the US."

"A missile?"

"Plausible."