The sun slowly wandered over my bare skin, caressing, and kissing me delicately with its warm rays until it glossed over my eyes, making me squint in irritation. Lifting my head from its unnatural position, I hissed at the stiffness that settled over my exhausted body. Craning my neck, I fumbled with my hands and carefully applied pressure to the painful areas on the back of my neck, hoping it would ease the tension that lodged itself deep between the tissue. Blinking my eyes open, I took a sheepish glimpse and instantly pressed my eyes back shut when the sun glared directly into them.
Refusing to let the day begin just yet, I snuggled back into the heated pillow I had been leaning against before. Sliding my cheek over the soft surface, I desperately tried to find a comfortable position. Eyebrows furrowed in agitation, I slipped a hand under the stubborn covers and manoeuvred skilfully through the creases and folds. Gliding with my fingers over the textured exterior of the cushion, I stopped in my tracks when I felt hair under my fingertips. Why is it fuzzy? Shrugging comically with my shoulders, I ignored the small yet important detail and kept going. Stumbling upon a cut, I traced it absentmindedly wondering how it was possible for a headrest to have a laceration...
"Wasn't aware ma arm was that deserving of love…" A gruff voice echoed through the room.
Eyes flying open, I nearly jumped out of my skin. Ripping my limb off of him, I sat upright in record speed. Gulping, I turned my head slowly towards the person, not pillow, I had just fondled and nuzzled against. Coming eye to eye with a smirking Sergeant, the tips of my ears warmed up excessively, soon flooding my face with the same warmth, causing my skin to turn beet red. Now completely flustered, eyes wide, I began to stutter, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse for the predicament, I found myself in.
"At ease, lass. I didn't mind it… Have fallen asleep m'self. Yer fine!" He voiced.
"O- okay." I stammered. "Sorry." Looking at him a moment longer, I took in his dishevelled hair. It wasn't as messy as I would have expected, considering we had fallen asleep on a couch instead of our beds…
"Do I have something on ma head?" Soap asked, sliding his fingers through his hair I was just staring at.
"Hmm? Oh no, no. I was just- lost in my own head." I pulled the corners of my mouth to a small smile and leaned back. Closing my eyes, I rubbed the still persistent sleep out of them.
"What were ya thinking 'bout?" I heard him ask.
"Nothing of importance." I waved my hand at him and looked his way. He had turned his upper body towards me and was now silently pouting; his lips were pursed, and his eyebrows were pulled low. The heat that had been caught on my face, seemed to slowly fade, while new warmth found its way to my rapidly beating heart. He looks adorable. "Fine!" I called out, losing against the act he was keeping up. His face lit up at my surrender, and I felt my mouth transform into a big smile, mirroring his. "I was just expecting your hair to be messier than it actually is."
"Messier, eh?" He repeated my statement.
"See? It was nothing of importance, just what I had said."
He ignored my comment.
"What were ya expecting then? Them flying from left to right?"
"No, but from right to left." I answered sarcastically and laughed. "Look, I don't know what I expected. I suppose I took inspiration from my own bed hair, okay? And mine, is far worse than yours."
"Looks fine to me."
"That's 'cause I am wearing a mask. Which, quite frankly, I am very glad I am wearing at the moment."
"You sure 'bout that? I could still see yer face turn a very nice shade of red…" He mocked me with his smirk and his stupid blue eyes which were now superiorly staring me down.
I looked at him judgingly before springing into action. Jumping on my feet, I kneeled on the sofa cushions with one knee. The thin sheet slid to the ground from my erratic movements- I ignored it for the sake of my mission. Bending over, I pushed down on his left shoulder with my left arm, while the right hand shot towards his head.
"Oi! I'll gie ye a skelpit lug!" ("Oi! I'll hit you on the ear!") Soap called out while he was leaning further away from me, desperately trying to evade the fingers that were aiming for his hair, unsuccessfully, as I had the better positioning over him. Putting my whole bodyweight on him, he turned his face to the side, to avoid getting squished by my stomach.
"You rascal!" He called out and pushed back against me with his upper body and arms.
Fingers gliding through his hair, I was caught off-guard by the softness. Soap was quick to overpower me, pushing me away from him. While I was beginning to lose my balance, I managed to ruffle aggressively through his hair, brushing off the actual wish of touching his hair lovingly instead. Landing on my back, he held my wrist in his hand and towered over me. I was giggling at his dumbfounded expression. "You weren't fast enough, Sergeant. I got to you!" I called out in between fits of giggles that left me clutching my stomach in pain.
"Count yourself lucky for owning a balaclava…" He mumbled. "Otherwise, ya would have suffered a similar fate."
"Don't worry, your time to shine will come soon enough." I let some more giggles escape me.
"What do ye mean by that?" He requested to know.
"Well, I was thinking of getting rid of it? At least in private environments or when we are between ourselves."
"Rid of it? Didn't ya feel safer with it on?" Soap asked me, visibly perplexed.
"I do. But I also enjoy not having this thing on at all times. It's bothersome and I feel as if there is always a thin boundary between my companions and I…" I huffed and tried to get up, but Soap wouldn't budge.
"I dinnae understand. Why would ya change yer mind so suddenly?" He questioned and pulled me up by the wrist that was still in his grasp. Sitting on one leg while the other hung at the edge of the sofa, I watched him sit back down as well with knitted eyebrows.
I pressed my eyes shut in defeat and took a deep breath. "Okay so-" I opened my eyes and stared at my fingers that laid on my lap, unable to keep eye contact with him. "I have told you before I was wearing it because of anonymity, right?"
"Aye."
"I may not have told you everything. But I did not lie either!" I scraped nervously at my fingernails. "I was afraid of being recognized on the battlefield or anywhere else, for that matter. Of course, it won't-"
"Recognized by who?" He interrupted my explanation and threw me off my carefully laid tracks.
"Recognized as in... I don't know the right expression. Not in the way that someone on the battlefield or an enemy would already know who I am. I don't have any enemies, at least I don't think so." I mumbled, quickly filtering through my twenty-four years of living. I had met a number of people in my time, through school, university, online gaming, traveling. I could count the amount of people on one hand that would perhaps be willing to harm me physically or psychologically, but I doubted they would enlist just to mess with me. I was certain most didn't know or even care about me after we parted ways. "Identified! That's what I meant!"
"You are afraid of being put on a list?"
What in seven hell's was 'a list'? "That does not sound appealing at all. Whatever that is. Let me rephrase it and explain it the same way I had explained it to Kate… I mean Laswell." I was fidgeting in my seat, eyes glued to the ceiling I was searching for the right expressions. "You know in movies, when the villain figures out who the hero is?"
He nodded.
"Well, what does the villain do to hurt the protagonist? He turns to nasty methods like threatening, blackmailing, murdering, often taking it out on family and friends, lovers and so on. That is the kind of recognize I meant. I have put my nose into things I definitely should not have, I have gathered information over a span of years that was important for our cause, it is only a matter of time for someone to put one and one together and figure out who it was."
"When they get their filthy hands on ya, no mask will keep ya safe." He uttered, jaw tensing as he watched out for my reaction, prepared to calm me down, but that reaction never came. I knew the impact failures and mistakes would have on me, since before I agreed to Kate's deal. One day I will take a wrong step, a bad turn, a misguided path, and everything I have built will come crashing down on me. Should that occur, I will do everything in my power to keep the people who are dear to me, out of harm's way.
"No, but a mask eases my fears. Its game over either way if I ever get caught and the mask is pulled off, but until then, I believe it may provide me with enough time to keep beneath the radar for a little longer."
"I see." He mumbled after a while.
"Second reason is… me." I closed my eyes momentarily. "I am very expressive, very sensitive and empathetic. Basically, I wear my heart on a sleeve. That's a bit counterproductive on the battlefield or here in general. While I learned over time how to minimize it, I am in the presence of people, who are trained very well and noticed even the smallest details." I huffed and leaned against the backrest in defeat. "Tell me, does the mask even work in your presence?" I asked.
"The mask works just fine. Ya manage to hide most of it, that's right, but yer eyes give ya away. And yer body language. For example, when ya kept to the walls while we were in the mountains, I- we knew something was up. The small step you did, when Graves was aggravated, causing you to bump into Lt., told me even more about ya." We were staring at as he went on. "Right now, when I look at ya, I can see disappointment radiating off of ya in waves. But not because I could read ya so easily, naah. 'Tis because you are disappointed in yerself. Ya expected better from ya."
My eyebrows furrowed and I wiped my face, bothered by his accuracy. "You are right. I did expect better. I must confess, I did my research on you lot. On the task force 1-4-1. I wanted to be prepared for everything, and I mean everything. I think, deep down I knew the mask wouldn't work as intended, but I still hoped. Guess I assumed correctly." I shrugged with my shoulders. "In turn, I thought it made sense to get rid of it. At least when we are off missions and between us. The mask is nice and all, but I want my skin to breathe again. I want to feel the sun again, the wind weaving through my hair. I don't want to wake up in the middle of the night from overheating or look in the mirror and only see two sets of greyish eyes staring back at me." The number of times I woke up with the balaclava sticking to my sweaty skin or my saliva clinging to it… Gross. "I don't easily trust, but I do have trust in the members of the task force and los vaqueros."
"What if yer trust is misplaced?"
"Then it will be just another life lesson." I answered instantly. "I'll be prepared for it, as I always am. That's just how life is." I dubbed it the Voice. It was a small part of my brain, the part that was also responsible for the endless hours of overthinking I put myself through. With the Voice always there, present in the shadows, lurking, waiting for the right moment. And when the time would come, it would spring fourth and yell at the top of its lungs; I told you so!
But the Voice also had its perks. It would keep me safe, keep me intact. It was like a sponge, drawing in all the bad encounters, keeping my head clear of any long-lasting consequences. An incident would only be that, an incident. Ultimately, I would move on or forget… "Now, any other questions?" I questioned, hushing my inner monologue, and restricting him from asking any questions that would force me to elaborate my reply.
"Does anyone know what ye look like?"
"Yep."
"Laswell?"
"Well, yes." I laughed. "Any time we paint the town red as civilians. Minus the reckless drinking and clubbing, of course."
"You and Laswell?" Soap inquired, baffled at my statement.
"Well yeah, can't be a soldier three hundred and sixty-five days a year." I grinned.
"Fair point- what about Price?"
"Uhmm. One time, yeah." I snorted, remembering the incident as if it was yesterday.
"You seem troubled…" Soap concluded, and I glanced up at him, mayhap slightly irritated by the fact that he could read me like a book, yet impressed, nonetheless.
"Well, not troubled per say. I was still pretty green behind my ears, so I read more into the situation than I should have." I snickered. "Back when we first met, I was overwhelmingly nervous. I thought I would faint. I had read and heard a lot about the Captain prior to our meeting, which meant I put a lot of pressure on myself to appeal to him. Make him believe that I am good enough. Fast forward when I entered his office with Laswell, he… Hmm, what is it called? When someone tells you to do something and it's definitely not a request?"
"Order?"
"Yes, that! He ordered me to take off my mask and hood. I was caught off guard, having thought about the exchange a ridiculous number of times, I expected it to go completely differently." I scratched the back of my neck nervously. "Safe to say, I was glad Kat- Laswell was there beside me, because otherwise I am not sure how long it would have taken me to move my muscles and execute his order. And I may have gaped at him… Like a fish." I laughed dryly remembering his serious expression and the side glance, I sent Kate's way. Only when she subtly nodded, I felt confident enough to oblige his order.
"Did you feel unsafe?"
I stared at him momentarily.
"I have now just realized I made him sound like a complete arse. No, no. He asked me very politely; I just had the feeling it was an order. As the Germans would say 'der Ton macht die Musik' ('Setting the tone'). Basically, it's not what he said, but how he said it. And as an overthinker I read too much into it. Plus, I have low self-esteem."
"Ye were… embarrassed?" He gaped at me, and I shrank in on myself. "Yer bum's oot the windae." ("You are talking rubbish.")
"Oi, no Scottish! I don't understand it. And yes, I was flustered. But that's not a crime!" I poked him. "Now, next person please."
He rubbed the ribs where I had pushed my fingers into him and continued speaking with an everlasting smile plastered on his face.
"Gaz?"
"Nope."
"Alex?"
"Nein." ("No.")
"Farah?"
"Nooo." I pouted. "Man, I wish I could have gotten to know her better. I love the way she pronounces Captain. I could listen to it on repeat." Soaps eyebrows rose past what was humanly possible. "Yep, let's ignore what I just said, shall we?"
He wiggled his eyebrows teasingly at me. In the spur of the moment, I pulled my mask over my mouth and stuck my tongue out, catching him and even myself off guard by how bold I felt at the given moment. I felt embarrassed straight away.
"Oh, that's bold, Ascii."
I shrugged.
"Nicolai?"
"Njet." ("No.") I cleared my throat.
"Bloody hell. Has anyone else seen ya beside Laswell and Captain Price?"
"Nopely dopely." I answered proudly before a thought crossed my mind. "Actually, there is one more person that saw me… Laswell's wife."
"You met her!?" Soap asked in disbelief.
"I did!" I yelled excitedly.
"How is she?! I can't believe you've met her!"
"Awh, she is absolutely stunning. And sweet, but has like, an edge to herself? I don't know how to explain it. I mean, she managed to convince Kate to quit smoking. Or at least I thought so until last night, where I saw her smoke again… Nevertheless, definitely made for each other. With their cute banters, and small, sweet gestures?" I hope one day, when I find my match, it will be like that. "But yes, beside those three I suppose, no one has seen me really."
"Well, we did a bit-"
I held my palm up into the air, causing him to quiet down. "I don't think I'd count that. First of all-" I began counting it off on my fingers, "it was dark, second, you could have only seen my mouth and nose and third…" I thought for a moment, coming up empty handed. "I don't have a third explanation."
"Fair enough, what about boot camp?" He asked sceptically.
"Oh, definitely not. The mask was practically glued to my face. Walked everywhere with it, slept with it, sometimes even showered with it still on. Not my best idea…" I mumbled the last part under my breath. "It was of importance for me to lay low as best as I could, which… did not exactly work, as I was already taller than most women and similar height to a number of men. I also joined late, which meant I was several years above my peers. From a different country nonetheless." I counted the reasons down in my head this time.
"How was it? Joining the army, I mean. Do ye miss anything from yer home? Or the life ya had?"
Curious, are we? "Well, it definitely was an experience. I wasn't sure I'd… I'd be able to keep up. I was more often at my wits end than I care to count. It was a harsh change, from getting to bed in the early hours of the morning and getting up late in the day to getting up at the wee hours and working my ass off till the dead of the night."
"Yeah, wasn't any different fer me. I still hate getting up early…"
"You do? Doesn't seem like it. Anytime I see you in the morning, you're like a big ball of energy. It's particularly funny when I see the other soldiers walk past you like zombies." I laugh at his dumbfounded expression.
"Stalker!" He hissed.
"Absolutely not! I'll have you know; the canteen is not only for you." I held my finger up in front of me, as if I was berating him like a child. We stared at each other and soon erupted in laughter.
"Do ye miss yer university life?" He asked when our laughter died down.
I chewed on the question a tad bit longer before I answered. "Nnnn-yes? I think I miss the fact how easy-going university life was, all in all. The stress I felt because of projects and exams is nothing compared to the intensity I feel on missions. I think for the most part, I miss my long nights I spent awake, sitting comfortably at my pc, and playing away. Oh, and I miss sleeping in… I could easily just stay at home without any consequences. Didn't feel like getting up? No problem, just stay at home and sleep on!" I exclaimed animated and glanced at Soap who was smiling and looking at me with kindness etched in his blue eyes. Usually, I was not aware enough to see such emotions on a man's face, but in the past few days, this seemed to have changed for the better, to my own surprise. Perhaps, I was more conscious of my surroundings, or the people I share my days with, to have caught a glimpse of it. Still feeling strongly like a deer caught in the headlights, I brushed the emotions off. He was simply being polite. "What about you? You miss anything?" I asked instead, to keep the conversation going.
A sigh escaped him, and my eyebrows furrowed temporarily. "Ma home…" My heart dropped and I sympathized with him in that moment. I miss my home too... "Ma family n' friends. In particular ma mam... I do see her when I can, but sometimes, I wish I could see 'em more often, ya know?"
I put a reassuring hand on his arm and squeezed lightly. "Yeah, I feel the same way. I see mine very rarely as well, once a year if it works out, and since I joined the army, it feels... even more scarce." I retracted my hand from him and let it fall lifelessly on my lap while my head hung low, contributing to my glum frame of mind. The mood had changed drastically from playful to a deeply depressed state. I disliked it, disliked the heavy weight that settled over my shoulders, the strain that formed in my throat, causing my eyes to glaze over. "Are you close to your family?" I asked him, refusing to let the atmosphere get to me.
"Ma mam..." He began explaining with a soft tone of voice. "She's a wonderful woman and I'm eternally grateful for having 'er. She has always been there for me and taught me how to take on the world. That the number of times ye get up and try again is more important than the times ya fall."
"She sounds like a lovely woman…" I felt a slight ache settle in my chest while I was listening to him. The way he talked about his mother caused me to put on a brave façade, acknowledge the part of me, that always knew I was missing something in the relationship I held with my parents. Even though I loved my parents with all my heart, deep down, I strived to hear the simplest of praises. A small pat on the head, a soft squeeze on the shoulder, an encouraging you can do it or a simple, I am proud of you.
"Ye close to yer mam? Or dad?" He asked curiously and I felt my throat begin to burn from the emotions swirling through me.
I took a deep breath.
"My mother more than my father. My father… is the silent type, you know? Although he was always there if I needed anything, he was but a shadow." I struggled with my words. How could I explain the complexity our relationship, when I myself don't even know what to think of it? "I wouldn't call him an absent father, not at all, but still… kind of-"
"An emotionally unavailable father." Soap voiced tenderly.
"Yeah, perhaps I could call it that, but it doesn't feel right either…" A loud sigh left my lips.
"There isn't always the right expression for it, darlin'. He might have been unavailable in yer eyes, while he perhaps felt he gave his best."
"I know. You are right, I just don't want him to stand in a very poor light, you get what I mean?"
"Ya don't wanna to be cruel, but whatever ya feel, is justified."
"You are right. It's eerie how good you are at understanding-" And then it suddenly hit me. Maybe he was in a similar situation? "-me." The realization hit home a bit too closely thus I clasped my hands together with a semi-loud smack. "Okay, back to the question of whom I am close to. Actually, it's my brother. Pretty funny if you ask me, as we used to get on each other's throats on a daily basis when we were younger. He loved to tease me, and I loved to yell back at him to leave me alone." I cracked a smile, hiding my yearning behind a tall set of invisible walls.
"That's just sibling love, eh?" Soap chuckled and I hummed in agreement.
Stretching my tired body, I wondered briefly what today might bring forth, when I heard a buzzing sound. Glancing at Soap, I watched him pull out his phone and unlock it. His fingers skimmed over the smooth surface of the device, and I caught myself inspecting them. Averting my gaze, I got up, figuring I could get my own phone and have a look at it. Eyes landing on my journal, leisurely laying on the coffee table, I furrowed my brows. Did I put it there? I couldn't remember, as much as I tried wrapping my head around it. Waving it off, I took it in my hands and skimmed through it. Nothing seemed amiss. "I'll be right back." I mumbled and walked off.
I stood in the doorway to our sleeping quarters, when I noticed Ghost's bed was empty yet neatly made up, while Soaps blanket was missing, with his pillow laying on the ground. Glancing over my shoulder, I quickly put one and one together. Ghost must have draped Soap's covers over us when he was going out for the day. At the thought of his sweet gesture, my heart swelled up. Pushing forward, I did what I initially came to do. Putting my journal safely in the hidden compartment of my backpack, I pulled my phone out from a different pocket and checked it quickly.
I had several unanswered messages.
Waltzing back into the common room, I threw myself back on the couch beside Soap. "I think the Lieutenant might have tucked us in last night or rather, this morning." I mumbled.
"I knew it was my blanket!" Soap looked up from his phone.
"Yep…" I trailed off while I stared at the message on the display. Soap said something under his breath, but my attention was already fully taken up by the text messages.
1:47 Gasoline
You holding up good? Cap' told me there were some complications in Al-Mazrah. He'd ensured me you were fine though, but, as you may know me well enough by now, I like to check up on you myself. I'm sorry our missions pulled as further apart, instead of allowing us to meet up… We can have a throughout catch up session when you come back from Mexico though.
We'll be headin' out soon as well. Your info was a full-on hit, but I guess you already knew that. Tsk-tsk-tsk-
A smile spread over my face as I envisioned his disapproving headshake, paired with his arms being crossed over his chest.
-one day you'll get caught.
Little did he know, I already got caught several times, by Kate, nonetheless.
I'll hook you up if we find any devices that could get interesting for us. Until then, keep smilin' Sinj ;)
I began constructing my answers right away, re-reading his paragraphs over and over, as to not miss a single detail.
6:23 Me
I've been holding up okay. Didn't really have a talk with El Capitano, we missed each other by a day, I think? We were supposed to meet on base, but ya had to have other ideas in Amsterdam… :P Could definitely use a talk when I come back, maybe in a bar again? Could even take the team with us, I think a couple of peeps need a time-out or just… some easy going evenings as well. And you know it's okay you weren't there, Kyle. I'd be the last person to hold that up against you. Work is work, can't really choose when we have to do it, so there was no reason for you to apologize, I completely understand.
I hovered with my fingers over the keyboard and stared strained at my text, before sending it off and writing a second message.
Yeah, you can hit me up anytime you find something of use. I'll have my phone on me at all times… Please take care of yourself on the mission. No risky manoeuvres! (Imagine me narrowing my eyes at you for effect) I wanna come back to a healthy-lookin' Kyee :D
As I locked my phone, I stared silently at my reflection visible on the darkened screen. I believed in the Captains and Gaz's abilities but couldn't refrain from worrying either way. Deciding not to dwell too long on it, I bit the bullet and pulled myself to a standing position with a groan.
"Back in a second!" I stammered out while I made my way to our shared sleeping quarters, with visible stiffness to my slow steps. Changing into the gym appropriate gear, took me longer than it should have, with every move, I felt my body protest and cry out. I finally accepted, while the past days could have gone a lot worse, it still had an ill effect on my body. I wanted to drown my aches away in a hot bath and stay there for the rest of eternity. Well, maybe not that long…
When I stepped back into the common room, Soap's head turned towards me. "Time to move our old, tired bones, eh?" he spoke as his eyes settled on mine.
"Speak for yourself, Sergeant!" I winked at him. "In this instant, I am the youngest I will ever be. Although, my bones have indeed seen better days." I rubbed my lower back in an attempt to ease the pain I was experiencing.
"Tsk, youngbloods nowadays." He comically shook his head in disagreement, making me snort.
"Oh, shut it, you are young yourself!" I slapped his shoulder playfully while I followed him to the training grounds.
He grunted in response.
"Ascii?" My name hung in the air between us.
"Hmm?"
"Take it easy today. You've been hit worse than the rest of us."
"Aye aye, Captain!" I humorously called out.
"Not a Captain." He huffed.
"Yet." I fired back and winked at him.
"Sechzehn." ("Sixteen.")
"Siebzehn." ("Seventeen.")
I grunted.
"Achtzeeehn-" ("Eighteeeen-")
Komm, noch zwei Stück. Das schaffst du! (C'mon, two more. You can do this!)
"Neunzehn, Zwanzig!" ("Nineteen, twenty!")
Finally done with my set, I slowly pushed myself off the ground to smoothly sit on the ground with bent knees. Catching my breath, I continuously felt more and more gross with the sweat dripping down my exhausted and my clothes sticking to my hot, damp skin. I was beat, so much, that I spontaneously decided to lean backwards and lay on the ground.
Turning my head to the side, my eyes wandered over the scattered equipment, the sweaty bodies, and pumping muscles, to a certain Scottish man. I watched with interest and wonder, how his muscles flexed rhythmically under his bicep curls. I observed him silently, studying the sweat glistering on his forehead, following the occasional droplet running down his temple, over his cheek and disappearing between his stubble.
Another instant I wish I could capture on paper.
Carrying on, I felt my heart drop when Soaps head suddenly turned towards me. With a small hand wave from my part, I hoped to hide the fact that I had been staring at him, again.
He grinned.
Disaster successfully averted.
"Ya done?" He asked expectedly, as he waltzed up to me.
"Yah." I answered, still sprawled on the ground like a sack of miserable potatoes.
"Kept it on the low, ye?"
"You tell me." I smirked since I knew he had me in his sights more than once.
"Touché. C'mon, let me help you up." He stretched his arm towards me.
"Oh, yes, please. That would be lovely." Gratefully taking his hand into mine, I let him pull me off the ground until I stood safely on my own two legs. Dusting myself off, I squeezed my shoulder blades together, causing a satisfying pop to reach my ears.
"Would you be interested in a challenge?" He unexpectedly voiced and I froze mid-stretch.
"A challenge?" I repeated, bewildered.
"A dare, if ya will." He beamed, yet there was slight apprehension in his eyes. Likely because he took notice of my sudden pause in movements. An uncomfortable aura settled over me. Memories threatened to break the tense surface. My eyebrow twitched. A palpable sense of hatred filled me.
I loathed dares.
"What kind of challenge?" I questioned, giving him the benefit of the doubt.
"Just a simple sparing session, las. I've seen the poor bastard that met yer knife before, I'd like to see how ya did it and maybe give ya some pointers."
"Oh." I was at a loss of words, at first. "That obvious, huh." I snorted.
"No. Ya did very well. I assumed ya may want some additional guidance. They still don't teach CQC in the army, do they?"
"Hand to hand?" I asked for clarification, and he nodded. "No. Which is a shame. They definitely need to incorporate it more... jeez-" I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "I'm glad it went the way it did and not... Well, any other way that would be worse than what it was." What on earth did I just say? It sounded atrocious. "You know. I was forced to act mostly on instinct alone."
My inner voice went wild. Why would you say that?! You sound like an arrogant prick! 'Oh, yeah, my instincts are that good, you know. Who needs training? Hah, not me.' Idiot!
"Impressive."
Huh?! My face grew unbelievably hot, and the voice vanished instantaneously. Yet I couldn't shake off the feeling that I was missing something. That there was a catch.
"What's the drawback?" I narrowed my eyes at him. "You called it a dare before, dares have punishments."
He smiled, visibly pleased with himself.
My heartbeat quickened.
"If ya lose-"
I felt lightheaded.
"you'll have to actively join the karaoke evening and sing a round or two with me. Or us if Lt. feels like joining in." He snickered before his laughter boomed through the room.
I must confess, I feared he would have picked out a humiliating punishment, a gruesome discipline. The possible penalties were the only reason I never felt comfortable enough accepting dares. People's imaginations usually ran wild when given the chance, the possibilities were endless. But Soaps 'punishment' was humane. Although I have not sang in front of anyone in years, I knew I could step over my shadow and accept the embarrassment I'd feel from my crooked singing if I really had to join in.
"Okay, yeah, I can do that. Feared it would be much worse..." I laughed awkwardly.
"Can't go all out yet. That comes with time." He winked at me.
Absolutely not.
"Remind me to never play truth or dare with you. Who knows what blasted ideas you'll come up with." I laughed as he shrugged with his shoulders.
"You'll never know until it's too late."
"Oh, I believe you, that's exactly why I'll keep my distance. Now, what's in it for me? Haven't accepted the deal yet, ya know."
"That's up to ya, Ascii. What do ye want if ya win?" He stared at me, waiting for an answer.
What do I want?
The first thing that came to my mind was... highly inappropriate. I sucked in a short breath. Bad Ascii, bad! Covering the slip up, I pinched my own chin, feigning pondering. "Hmm." My thoughts kept dipping into the no, no zone. It would only be a kiss! What's wrong with a simple kiss on the cheek? My inner voice asked. Everything! My brain yelled back.
"I think I'd like to settle on..." I began speaking, while breaking out in cold sweat.
"Dare Johnny to pull a prank on someone of your choosing." Ghost chimed in, scaring the lights out of me.
"Jesus!" I exclaimed, holding a hand over my chest.
"No, Ghost." The Lieutenant answered with a slightly wavering voice, as if he was trying not to laugh.
Funny bloke.
"I bet she'd pick ya." Soap said matter-of-factly.
"I doubt that." Ghost reiterated.
I was shrinking more and more into myself, the longer their banter went on.
"Crack an egg on his head." Ghost suggested.
"Oi!" Soap protested.
"Hug a dog for five minutes."
"Don't give 'er stupid ideas!"
"No Scottish for an hour."
"Yer Bum's oot the windae, ye fuckin' bampot!" ("You're talking rubbish, you unhinged tit!")
"I dare you to buy me dinner." I intervened.
Both men fell silent.
.
.
.
"Dinner?" Soap asked, stunned.
"Or lunch. Whatever suits you more. I'd ask the chefs to cook me a favourite dish of mine, but I doubt they'd do it. And I wholeheartedly believe I'd get a beating if I just strolled in there and did it myself. Not that I know how to cook it in the first place." I sighed heavenly as I imagined all the wonderful dishes, I could bribe Soap into buying. "It's been too long since I had an authentic dish…"
"A dinner?" The Sergeant repeated.
I stared at him, puzzled.
He studied me with furrowed brows.
"Ye-" Oh. OH. "I-" I held my hands in front of me and waved frantically. "I didn't mean it that way-" Maybe I did intend it that way. "I just thought, food would be the easiest?" I couldn't really think straight. That was the only thing that came to my mind that was appropriate, for goodness's sake! "Like, pick a dish and then just buy it or order it?" I wouldn't mind a date. As long as you don't mind. Would you take me on a date?
I missed the look that was shared between the both of them while I plucked a reasonable explanation out of my stuttering ass.
"I don't know what a good d-dish would be though. A good ol' steak? Definitely easily accessible. Maybe barbecue? Speaking of barbecue, I haven't had Korean barbecue in so long! I'd kill for that." I focused on Soap momentarily. "How does that work actually? Do I even pick the dish? Do you choose one for me?" I asked, nervously. "I'm overthinking it."
"Choose to yer heart's desire, sunshine." He smiled.
"Korean barbecue it is!" I picked straight away, doubting I could ponder about it any longer. "Wait, what if we can't find it?"
"I'll make it work."
I was thrilled.
"Challenge accepted." I exclaimed, grabbing his hand to seal the deal. "How do I know if I have won?"
"When he's on his knees." Ghost replied.
On his... On his knees?! I short circuited.
Breathe in.
It's only to refine my technique.
Breathe out.
Take the fear and chug it out the window.
Breathe in.
It's between friends.
Breathe out.
They won't be disappointed.
The Sergeant stood approximately five meters away from me. His stance seemed relaxed with a faint smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eyes. Yet as I shifted my weight from one leg to the other, I realized he was watching me, like a hunter studying its prey.
I felt a cold shiver run down my spine.
"Rules are simple." Ghost announced as he walked up and down beside us, authority oozing from him the same way it did on our first mission. "Keep your filthy hands away from each other's groins." He glanced my way. "No low blows allowed." With that his focus shifted away from me. "The rest, is up to you."
With a simple nod, he sent us on our way.
Momentarily, Soap and I, only stared at each other. Waiting. Watching. Calculating. Who would be the first to swing? To my dismay, it was me. I had grown impatient. Nevertheless, as I took my first step towards him, to my utter surprise, he followed suit.
I had expected him to stay back and defend, instead, he mirrored my own movements and nearly caught me off guard. We had come face to face, much quicker than I had initially planned, yet as I struggled to understand what exactly his plan was, I was quick enough to catch the muscles in his arms tighten and his fingers spread out to take hold of me.
Swiftly counter acting, I grabbed him bellow his elbow, and pushed in an upwards motion. This forced him to let go of my shoulder he had already managed to clutch tightly, les he wanted to risk serious damage to his arm.
Holding him further and taking his momentum to my advantage, I ducked and turned on my heels, while his hand flew over my head and caught nothing but thin air.
However, as we finished changing places, my hands slipped from him. Biting down on my teeth in frustration, his left fist came dangerously close to the side of my face. Pulling my own arms up as a means of defence, I barely countered his first punch. Fighting to keep up with his speed, I watched in slow motion as the second attack was already in full swing. Scarcely managing to bend my knees enough to duck under his arm, I felt the air swirl over the top of my head.
Oh my god-
Rising to my full height, I blocked yet another punch. Feeling fed up with his vulgar attempts of hitting me, I opted to give him a taste of his own medicine. As expected from a trained SAS soldier though, he deflected with ease. As I pulled away to mayhap try a different approach, I instead used the palm of my hand to slap his cheek. To my utter shock and disbelief, I hit him straight in the face. His stunned expression only fuelled this glorious moment further.
Without missing a beat, I grabbed his neck from the left side and forced his face to come closer to my own, while my right underarm flew towards his nose. Seeing his expression change to one of pure focus, I knew, I had missed before I even came close enough to hit him.
Instead, he grabbed my arm with such strength, I yelped in pain as his fingers dug into my sore flesh. Narrowing my eyes in discomfort, he pulled me towards himself, which caused me to stagger forward. Losing my balance, I couldn't swat away the hand that clutched to the back of my neck, nor the hand that still grasped my own firmly.
With precise strength, he forced me to bend forward, pushing my head further and further down towards the ground while holding my arm behind my back and in his clutches. I refused to fall to my knees, instead I squatted further down, desperately trying to come up with a plan that would save my burning arm and myself as a whole.
I looked around, willing to do anything to improve my situation, but I couldn't find anything that could help me. Instead, I saw unfamiliar faces watching us, their expressions ranged from shocked to amused yet none of them dared to say anything, only Ghosts eyes seemed to try and urge me to continue. That the fight wasn't lost yet.
Still, I didn't know how. The Sergeant stood behind me, holding my backwards stretched arm tightly in his grip. I could not move without hurting myself in the process nor could I grab him with the hand that was free.
I felt helpless and before I could even try anything, a foot came into my view and swiped my legs off the ground. With a loud thump and oof's coming from around us, I landed face flat on the cushioned ground.
"Halt." The Lieutenant called out.
I lost…
Soap took a small step back and held his hand out for me to take.
"Ya good?" He asked me, visibly on edge.
I stared up at him in disbelief and embarrassment.
I lost in fifteen seconds.
"Ascii?"
I took his hand into mine yet again and let him help me off the ground.
"I'm peachy." I mumbled, as I swiped the dust off of me and refused to look at the spectators and the Lieutenant.
"Try again." Ghost announced and my mouth fell open under the mask.
Soap stepped up to our initial starting point and waited patiently.
"Again?" I exclaimed, bewildered.
"The fight is not done yet, Corporal."
Is he blind!? I was clearly on the ground, face first! Could have broken my fucking nose for crying out loud, how in the world is the fight not over?
Glancing at the Sergeant, I pushed my irritation out of the way and hastily tried to come up with a new plan. Previously I had managed to break his defence with brute force, even if it may have only been a lucky slap, it was enough. And perhaps, I could recreate it. With that in mind, I approached him, halting right before him.
I stared into his eyes.
He stared into mine.
Like lightning, I placed my hands on his chest and pushed against him with all the strength I could muster. When I managed to drive him off balance and cause him to stumble backwards, I followed up with a quick punch, he easily dodged. Not faltering, I altered to my other hand and tried again. Unsuccessful. Disheartened, I attempted to change tactics and involve my lower body as well. Shifting weight on one leg, I used the other to take a full swing at his leg. Despite all my efforts, he was quick enough to move his leg far enough for me to hit his inner thigh, instead of the knee I was aiming for.
Dissatisfied, I still refused to give up.
Pushing forward, I changed to my other leg and tried again. In vain. Even after I altered the target from his leg to his ribs, I didn't manage to land a hit. It was as if he was anticipating it. He blocked my kicks gracefully.
My own frustration slowly fused with the anger bubbling up in my chest.
As I securely landed back on my feet, I watched in horror as he took the initiative and sprang forward. Taking a shaky step back, he managed to snag my left arm. Fearing for my safety, I squealed in surprise. He smiled mischievously. I couldn't even comprehend in time what was happening, when I found myself flying through the air and landing harshly on the ground.
Arching my back in pain, I grunted, tears stinging my closed eyes.
"Oh fuck! Yer injuries! Shite-" I saw a shadow fall over my face, although my eyes were still closed.
I turned on my side and punched the ground, trying to drive the pain out of my back into my fist, if only slightly.
I lost. Again.
"Fucking fuck! That-" I gasped for air. "-hurt like a butt cheek on a stick!" I pressed my fingers against the painful area and fumed. At this point I was willing to skin him alive.
"Fuck, 'm sorry. Ya need anything?" He voiced, concerned.
"No, 'm fine. Ghost didn't call… A winner yet. I can go on-" I in fact, was not fit enough to continue, yet my ego didn't allow me to quit. I may be a sore loser, but I would never surrender.
"Positive. Next try." Ghost called out.
We both took our respectful positions, but this time, I waited for him. Partly to see what he would do, but also to lick my own wounds just a tad bit longer. However, the 'longer' wasn't long at all. He approached me quickly, hands swinging into the air to hit me, yet I either sidestepped or deflected with my own drawn arms. A punch to the head? Deflected. A slap to the face? Not on my watch. Another shot at my jaw? Better luck next time, big guy.
With the last failed assault on his part, I managed to snag his arm, pushing my fingertips into his skin. The plan was to stretch out his arm enough for me to press against the most sensitive point, the elbow. If done correctly, I could force him to draw back, as the breaking point was fairly low.
Pulling his arm away from him and closer to me, I didn't realize at first that he was working alongside my plan to incorporate his own. Only, when I felt the hand, I had in my own, grab my shoulder tightly and his other arm snake under my butt, I realized something was off. The second I felt him lift me off the ground, my mind went haywire. I grasped how dire the situation was astonishingly quickly and caught onto his master plan. A plan, I didn't want to be part of, at all.
I did not want to kiss the ground again. I did not want to experience the pain pulsating through my body, my breath being taken away.
I refused to go down this way. I would not let him break me.
I will break him.
Lifting my right leg off the ground, I halted for a second in the air. As much as I did not want to hurt him, I knew, regardless of how he would throw me to the ground, with full force or not, it will be agony. Fuelling my urge to pay him back, I stomped hard on top of his foot.
He let go of me with a half-loud grunt.
From there, a wonderful opening presented itself right in front of my eyes, and I took it without a second thought. With Soaps hands retracting from my body, I was freed from his clutches and sprang into action. Now, or never. Slightly crouching to further amplify the possibility of hitting my target, I swung my right leg at him.
My eyes feasted on the sight before me. My foot, hitting the back of his knee. Him losing balance, and ultimately collapsing on his knees with a shout.
"Halt!" Ghost roared. "The winner is Ascii."
I made it.
Cheers erupted all around us, but the only thing I could think about is how unfair it had been. Worry clouded my judgement, and the painful expression on Soaps face, troubled me. Had the kick to his foot really been that painful? Dropping to my own knees, I tenderly touched his shoulder.
"Are you okay?" I asked, anxiously.
"Ye got me good-"
"You hit his 'off-switch'." Ghost spoke simultaneously. I looked at him over my shoulder with a questioning gaze. "The pain and damage are so severe; the body physiologically makes you focus solely on the injury. Regardless of your level of training or experience. Your body simply stops all activity other than focusing on the injury."
I felt awful.
"I- I didn't know that. If I had known, I wouldn't have done it. Oh my god." I tried to justify my actions, that clearly startled me to my core.
"Ya did great, sweet cheeks. Taught me not to underestimate ya." Soap panted.
"Are you sure you're alright?" I repeated my question.
"I'm certain ya burned to get yer hands on me after I dropped ya to the floor. 'N I can't say I blame ya. Would have done the same." He laughed.
"Perhaps." I confessed, suddenly feeling very shy.
Sensing the mood swap to one of laughter and genuine joy, I gave Soap a last pat on his chest and stood back up before being flooded by the Los Vaqueros who witnessed it all. Cheers and congratulations were sent my way. Yet none of them dared to touch me on my back or shoulders, for which I was very grateful. Nonetheless, the attention quickly overwhelmed me. I was already feverishly trying to come up with an excuse when I felt a soft touch to my back. Turning my head to find out who it was, my blue eyes met two dark orbs. Ghost.
"You did well." He remarked as my heart skipped a beat.
"Thank you." I responded. His honesty made all my usual funny remarks vanish into thin air. "How come I won? I was on the ground two times beforehand."
He chuckled, a low, short noise rumbling through his chest. "You weren't on your knees."
As I stared at him, slowly registering what he had just said, I saw his eyes move. The lower lash line slowly rose, and, on the outer corner, I had the strangest feeling I could see crow's feet poking from beneath his black paint.
Before I could react, he discharged himself and walked past me, leaving me to stare quizzically at his retreating form. Repeating what had just transpired over and over in my head, I was finally able to put together the inexplicable expression he wore…
He was smiling.
And with that, I hope my writers block shall be gone for a while. Happy Saturday, sweethearts :)
P.S.: The next chapter will cost be a bit more time to edit than usual. I've got lots of things to write out more thorough and figure out. Besides, the length makes my head throb, are ~13k words too much? Should I divide it into two chapters or keep it as one? I can't even tell if it will stay at around 13k, after I'm done massacring it... Input would be very much appreciated!