Unknown, Unknown
In an undisclosed room, beyond moral judgement, stood a steel table, it's cold and rugged appearance reflected the one and only white light that supplied the entire space with brightness. Beside it, a man sat patiently, his arms crossed over his chest as he held a small device between his gloved fingers, his eyes skimming the reflective screen that wouldn't turn on regardless of the pressure he applied on the tiny button.
Growing restless as the minutes quietly ticked by, he glanced at the woman who wouldn't stir from her deep slumber. Sighing, he pushed himself off the chair, navigated around the table and towards her. With a few minor strides, he caught up, his hand shooting out to touch her, brush the hair that had fallen over her eyes to the side, exposing the blueish and purplish tints colouring her otherwise fair skin. Swiping his finger over the bruise on her temple, he stopped in his tracks when she flinched. Retreating his hand quickly, he moved back to the chair he had abandoned before and calmly sat back down, waiting patiently once more…
There were sounds, murmurs, conversations that trickled into my hazy mind and steadily and inevitably woke me up from my uncomfortable slumber. Yet as I opened my eyes, the room fell dead silent as the two men turned towards me. Batting my eyes a few more times, I couldn't get rid of the white film obstructing my vision. Annoyed, I pressed my fingers into them, forcing the fog to leave me at once, before I zeroed in on the man whose face made me wish punching people wouldn't bare any consequences.
"Du siehst immernoch so aus wie damals, als ich dich das letzte mal gesehen habe." ("You still look the same as you did the last time I saw you.") He voiced as he observed me from head to toe, causing agitation to flare up in the pit of my stomach.
"The day we broke up.
"Der Tag an dem du schluss mit mir gemacht hast." ("The day you broke up with me.") He corrected me.
"Are you certain it was that day? I vividly remember your anger as you hadn't packed any drinks for me. At my wariness you clarified you'd not poison said drink. Who did I think you were, a monster?" An artificial laugh left my dry lips, "-That day?" I repeated the question with a raised eyebrow.
"Das war nicht so gemeint, liebe Kryo. Ich wollte nur die angespannte Stimmung lockern." ("I didn't mean it like that, dear Cryo. I just wanted to ease the tense atmosphere.") He tried to reason.
"Of course-" I held my hands up in surrender, "-how could I have mistaken it for anything else."
"Freut mich dass du es einsiehst." ("I'm glad you see it.") He smiled softly, vexing me further.
"The only thing I see is that your mother still hasn't taught you any manners. There's someone else in this room who does not speak our shared language. It would be the polite thing to change to one he does understand." My eyes flickered towards Graves who stood quietly to the side, listening in on our conversation.
"Atta girl, this is between you and him. I don't interfere in private matters." He explained.
"No. She is right. It is selfish of me to be speaking in a foreign language." I stared at him in disbelief.
"Since when do you listen to me?" I asked, refusing to participate in his game.
"I always listen to you." He deflected sweetly.
His act made me want to barf.
"You may have listened, but you never heard." I explained calmly.
"My mom always told me not to lie. You know that-"
"Your mother once threatened me, early on in our relationship, that she'd give me hell if anything happened to you." I confessed stubbornly.
"She was just trying to protect me." He attempted to justify her actions.
"From whom? Me? A sixteen-year-old girl?" I deadpanned.
"She learned to love you." He continued persuading me.
"She mastered the art of tolerating me." I kept on countering his arguments.
"Do you ever stop and listen to yourself? You deflect everything I say, you're as cold as you were back then- You aren't even giving me a chance!"
"Another chance?" I snorted. "Do I emit the same hostility as I did back then? Do you remember what you told me?" He kept quiet. "'Your eyes are as cold as ice- I have never seen them so void of emotion before…' Those were the words you uttered as we stood on the pier, freezing rain hammering down on us, while the icy wind blew against our soaked skin. It would make my day if you told me I emit the same hostility right now as I did back then when you tried to convince me to give you a second chance." I crossed my legs gracefully and leaned smugly into the chair.
"And you gave it to me! What is different now? Afraid to grant me another chance? I heard third time's the charm." He donned his best charming smile on his face. A facial expression that once swooned me, made my skin crawl in disgust. I didn't have the will to continue this conversation, consequently I stayed quiet. "What have I ever done to you?" He asked in desperation after a few silent seconds passed, his voice rising with every sentence that left his lips.
"What have you ever done to me?" I laughed in disbelief. "For me your actions caused trauma. For you, it was another Tuesday."
"You are being ridiculous… I wasn't the only one who made mistakes!" He leaned over the table.
"Oh? You admit you have wronged me?" I leaned even further back into my chair.
"I never said that." He voiced as he crossed his arms over his chest.
"No?"
"You must have misunderstood me." He clarified with a nod.
I sighed. Why was the conversation still going on? Why was I letting myself get swapped up by this nonsense? "Of course. That's totally my fault. Any other gaslighting you want to add while we are at it?" I stared him down, unable to keep my mouth shut. I needed to let go of all the ill temper, the resentment and regret I had been feeling for years. All the late nights I clung to my bedsheets, head buried into the pillow that saw more tears than it brought tranquil rest.
"I am not gaslighting!" He glanced between Graves and I, as though fearful what the Commander might think of him if the conversation continued.
"Gaslighting? I didn't say that. I know you can't lie; your mother wouldn't approve if you did, would she? And you can't dare go against her. Poor momma couldn't bare it if she knew how much her son lies…" The sarcasm was dripping thickly from my words.
"This isn't funny." He spat.
"Do you see me laughing?" I raised an eyebrow at him.
"I see you are angry with me. I am sorry you have been hurt by my past actions." He tried again.
"Apology denied- you can shove it right up your ass." What a joke of a man.
"Kryo! I am trying to be a good man!" He dared to complain.
"And you are failing miserably; you can't even follow one meagre rule instead you keep calling me by a nickname that insults my person. You really have not changed at all. Haven't learned anything in the few years since we separated." I began removing the dirt that clung to the underside of my nails.
Listening to him inhale deeply, I mentally prepared for more pointless banter.
"I am sorry for hurting you. I am sorry for calling you a liar, doubting your truthfulness. I am sorry for manipulating you. I wish I could take it all back." He spoke.
"I am in awe! That's actually a slightly better apology." He smiled proudly. I grinned wickedly. "If your standards are at the bottom of the fucking ocean."
That was his last straw. I watched in pure amusement, as he shot from his chair causing it to crash against the sterile ground. He rounded the table quicker than I could have responded, when his fist came flying towards me. In an out of body experience, I saw Graves come into view, his own hand engulfing my ex's fist and shoving him back where he came from with a scowl.
"You need to calm down, Midas!" He commanded.
Angrily, Midas punched the table, denting it in the process. "I am trying to apologise to her!" He yelled at the Shadow. "But anything I try. You. Block. Off! What is wrong with you?!" He now shouted past his superior towards me.
"You are being very emotional right now, are you sure you want to continue?" I asked with a voice as sweet as honey and carrying an expression that rivalled the innocence of the angels above.
"What do you want from me?!" He shouted in sheer frustration and pent-up rage.
"Nothing." I looked at my nails in disinterest, continuing where I have previously left off. "But it's clear as day you want something from me." Bored, I turned towards Graves. "Where did you find him? Abandoned on the side of the road? You should have picked someone else to tear down my walls. He clearly can't do it."
"He actually found me." Graves mustered.
"And you took him in." I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration. "Your standards are lacking."
"Hey! I can hear you!" Midas fussed in the background.
"He is good at what he does." Graves defended.
"If I remember from back then, he was good at what he put his mind to. But clearly getting under my skin isn't one of them. I mean just look at him-" I pointed at him.
"You are no saint yourself! You have killed fathers and brothers, mothers and sisters. Daughters, sons." He objected.
"My profession has nothing to do with this. Are you unable to find anything that I may have done in the past that would set me on the same pedestal as you?" I questioned. "I made mistakes, I acted childish in certain moments, inappropriate, naïve, there's no doubt in that, but I never asserted my dominance over you. I never made you feel less." I paused for a moment. "Whatever it is you are after, whatever you are willing to sacrifice for it, my answer is and will be no. I wish you all the best in your life, but I don't want to be part of it." Satisfied, I crossed my arms over my chest and looked to the side, signalling for the conversation to be over. But deep down, below the surface, there was fury bubbling to the surface- discreetly, ploddingly…
"Just like that? You wish me prosperity yet simultaneously swear you don't have any feelings for me? No person wishes his opponent good fortune without some ulterior motive or, in your case, buried affection?" He dared taking a step towards me, his eyes twinkling mischievously.
"Was du nicht willst, das man dir tut, das füg auch keinem andern zu. (What you do not want done to you, do not do to anyone else). That is what my mother taught me." I explained my line of thought.
"Bullshit! Your mom never said that. And I have only done what was best for you!" He established.
Suddenly, the mood shifted as the anger engulfed me whole, consuming every breath I took, swallowing thoughts, devouring reason, leaving only wrath. It burned through my skin, swept over my veins, wrapping my soul in its burning chains. I heard the yells of my former self, heard the weeping and sobbing she had done over and over again, the ragged breaths, the gasps for air as she held onto her hope, believe of change, belief it was merely a fleeting error not a repeatable misdeed. But it never was only a slip-up or a misunderstanding, it was perpetual maltreatment.
But I wasn't the frightened girl anymore.
"Best for me?!" I snapped, rising from the chair. "You only thought about your damn self and how people perceive you, you narcissistic fuck! Nothing else! It was never adoration that I received from you, only demands; flaunt your hair, enhance your features, clad in striking apparel. But don't define your body too much- don't show too much skin, too much décolleté." I pointed at my own body. "Anything I wanted to do, to make, to experience, you had to approve first, you had to give it your go. God forbid I made a mistake, the world ended in those moments, while it bowed to you when you fucked up. And screwed up you did, multiple times, but you never owned up to it, never apologised, never backtracked, you always managed to blame it on me."
He opened his mouth to speak.
"Shut the fuck up! For once it is I that speaks and you that listens without uttering a single word. I am done dancing to your tune once and for all. You must understand, you are the absolute worst that has happened in my god forsaken life. In all those years under your constant tongue-lashing, I felt like a bird in a cage begging to be released one way or another!" I raised my voice in frustration.
"I never put you in that cage! You had space to spread your wings, you just never took it!" He shot back.
"You said the exact same thing back then! You twisted the words in my mouth and blamed me for my own cropped wings!" I was at a loss for words. This boy was incapable of any sort of empathy. "You ruined me!"
"I made you stronger! Look at you! You are a part of special forces- you couldn't have done that without me!" He shouted, as if the booming volume of his voice would magically increase his trustworthiness.
"I didn't need to be stronger! I needed love and affection, both which you were unable to grant me. The only things you gave me are the practice of suffering, trials on misery and familiarity with triggers. I didn't fucking need you to strengthen my character. You were and are a waste of my precious breath, energy and nerves. Nowadays, the only thing I would squander on you, if I really had to, would be a bullet with your name on it." I rebuked harshly.
Out of the blue, on the unimportant table, laid a pistol. The metal glistening in the dim light of the cool lamp overhead, shone into my hungry eyes as I mustered it from afar. Following the elegant engraving from the barrel, over the hammer and onto the grip, I realized the desert eagle was fully loaded. Ripping my eyes from it and onto my ex, I saw his own eyes fall onto it. With a swift motion, I snagged it before he could even dream about touching it. Holding the weapon in my cold hand, I pointed it directly at him.
"You wouldn't dare." He mocked me.
"Try me."
There was no one there to stop me. Graves had vanished, leaving only him, I and the gun between us. Cocking it, I stared down the barrel and into my ex's eyes.
"You disgust me."
A loud noise caused me to sit up straight in my chair. Eyes ripped wide open, I stared straight ahead and directly into the eyes of non-other than Graves. He's back? Grunting, as the pain receptors on the side of my head began tingling and squirming from the soreness, I shut my eyes and tilted my head back. With a hiss, I opted to move my arm and touch the tender area, but I couldn't- my hands were bound behind my back. Shaking them violently, I swiftly grasped the situation I was in, compelling a shiver to run down my back.
"Ahh, there she is. Had a good rest? Sweet dreams?" His voice resounded through the small room while the recollection of past actions filtered past behind my eyes.
It was all… A dream.
"Need a few more minutes?" He asked, after I had not responded the first time.
Lifting my eyes, I noted there were strands of hair obscuring my vision. Following them, I realized I could see the bridge of my nose. Furthermore, pressing my lips into a thin line, I didn't encounter the soft cushion that they usually touched daily, rather I was only met with the foul air that was already present in this damned chamber.
"Took the liberty of removing your gear. I like to see the faces of the people I- interrogate. Makes it more personal, we are all friends here, after all." He revealed to my displeasure.
Straightening, I finally gave him the attention he was obviously starving for.
"Good, you're finally present. Now, how much do you know?" He began questioning, as if I was willing to talk to him. Thus, I remained quiet, mouth closed, eyes trained on him.
"How'd you figure it out?" He continued, willing to bewitch me, if it meant he'd get the answers he was looking for. But again, only silence prevailed.
"All through this tablet?" He held my trusty device into the air, wiggling it to make a point. "And one cable that was still in the container?"
He waited patiently, his question hovering in the dimly lit room, unanswered.
"Why are you being stubborn, Ascii? Or rather Sinja? There's no need for that here, we are all comrades here." He propped his underarms against the table, pushing my favourite device out of the way with one hand.
With a sigh, he continued. "You weren't quick enough though, were you? My Shadows told me you figured it out just outside the base. Impressive, yet diminishing at the same time. Maybe Soap would still be with us if you had been smarter." He mocked me.
Johnny. My eye twitched, a reaction the Commander was quick to catch on. Smiling wickedly, his attempt at stirring up emotions and potentially breaking down my walls, was interrupted by a knock on the door. Irritated, he called the person in.
"Ah Midas, perfect timing." Graves welcomed the guest with open arms while I turned apostate; his call sign was Midas. How did my dreaming self, know that?
Midas.
Midas.
Midas.
I suddenly remembered. It was his nickname between close friends…
"Wie geht's dir, Kryo?" ("How are you, Cryo?") The man turned towards me, his eyes emitted softness. It felt alien. He felt alien- out of place. A stranger with memories. Memories I would rather bury than relive again.
Who did he think he was? My knight in shining armour? Laughable.
"Komm schon, sei nicht so. Je schneller du aufgibst und ihm sagst was er hören will, desdo schneller ist es vorbei." ("Come on, don't be like that. The sooner you give up and tell him what he wants to know, the quicker it will be over.") He urged me on while smouldering resentment lingered beneath the surface of my skin.
"Sinja, Sinja, Sinja- do you really want to see the difference between the military and me?" Graves suddenly announced, rising from his chair and swiftly stepping around the tiny table, closing in on me with a few confident strides.
Trapped in a dejà-vu, I could only watch.
"Kryo, gib ihm was er haben will. Mach es nicht schwerer als es ist." ("Cryo, give him what he wants. Don't make it harder than it is.") Midas begged me.
He was more a disturbance than anything else at this point. "It is a shame I have to repeat myself." I sighed, as Graves's hand already twisted into the collar of my shirt. "Your subordinate is thick as a brick. It's Corporal Morrison and nothing else."
"Atta Girl, he is a stubborn guy when it comes to things he wants." The Commander commented. "Last chance. How much do you know?"
"What does it matter?" I asked.
"Just answer the damn question-"
"If you hit me, it will only make things harder for everyone, including you." I calmly explained. "There are strict rules governing conduct and, in this room, there is a witness present to reinforce them."
"Midas?" He chuckled. "Whose side you think he's on? He may just lie if I tell him to do so." He illustrated, pulling me from the chair and forcing me to stand on my own two feet as he held me firmly in his grasp.
Exhaling a disappointed breath, I looked past him and directly into the recording system above the exit. "The surveillance camera above the door can't lie."
I felt him grasping my shirt tighter, before letting go and dropping me back on my chair. Dissatisfaction was chiselled into his pouting face.
"Gott! (God!) Graves, we had a deal!" Midas called out, pushing past the Commander who shifted further away from me.
"Only if she talks! No talk, no deal." He empathized.
"Sag ihm einfach was er haben will, gottverdammt! Sei ein gutes Mädchen..." ("Just tell him what he wants, goddamn it! Be a good girl...") He leaned forward, his hand reaching for my cheek while his face inched closer to mine.
I withdrew instantaneously. "You dare touch me, and I will break all two hundred and six bones in your bloody body." I threatened in a low tone. Sensing he wasn't backing off; I pulled back and smashed my forehead without deviation into his nose. A loud crack echoed through the room, as the moron fell backwards with loud yelps and groans.
"I warned you!" I called out, as he held his nose in pain, cursing me out, while blood dripped down his fingers and onto his dark gear. "Get this fool out of here, and I will answer your question." I hissed, pressing my own eyes shut as I nursed the ache that arose on the area of contact.
"Du dumme Schla-" ("You dumb who-") He stammered as he was pulled off the ground by Graves and shoved out the door with a direct order to get his face checked out.
Flexing my own jaw, I willed the pain to subdue to a low buzz.
"Glad we came to an agreement." He smiled, as he sat back down on his chair. "Now, where were we? Ah yes, what have you figured out?"
"12th of August. A black bag operation, conducted by our General and carried out by you was initialised." I began, hissing as the pain in my head only grew. "You were transacting American made Ballistic missiles to our allies, fighting Russians in the Middle East. The mission did not go as planned though. Your boys and the shipment were spotted before it arrived at its destination, although the reconnaissance said the route was clear of enemy activity." Taking another deep breath, I swallowed the hurt. "Wrong reports doomed your whole team to die while Shepherd wasn't willing to allow any reinforcements to back them up. The Russians executed all of them and got hold of your comms. Through them, they learned Shepherd was behind it. In the end, Russia gave the missiles to Hassan. I dare say, your intentions were good, but the shipments were illegal and off the books." I paused momentarily as I took on the expression on his face. "Your mistake was trying to bury it."
"Who else knows about this?" He inquired.
"Nuh-uh. I said I'd answer your question- not questions. What gives me the reassurance that I will walk out of this alive? That my team will walk out alive?"
"Laswell mentioned you were good, but she never revealed how devilishly excellent you were…" He stood up again, this time, to march up to me and place a hand on my shoulder, squeezing lightly. "I can only assure your survival- if you work for me."
"Tsk- unlucky then. I'll have to refuse." I answered in the same breath.
"There's nothing and no one left for you to go back to, Sinja. Soap is gone. Ghost isn't far off either. Price and Gaz are walking into our trap as we speak, and Laswell won't be able to save her own neck this time. No one can take you under their wing, besides me." He went on.
"Soap isn't dead-"
"You saw him drop like a fly, didn't you? You shouted his name…"
He isn't dead. He couldn't be. Not him…
"And you mean to tell me you caught the Ghost? Don't make me laugh."
"Contrary to belief, he isn't untouchable. Even the best makes mistakes…"
He's lying. Ghost wouldn't go down so easily… or would he?
"Why would you want to get rid of all of us? It doesn't make any sense." I pressed on, as his hand slid on my upper back. Stepping behind me, he leaned over me, his mouth dangerously close to my ear.
"You came too close to the truth, just like Icarus came too close to the sun." He whispered, pressing his fingers into my flesh.
"And you think I'd just work for you? Just like that?" I didn't flinch, didn't give his advances any thought. He was only playing with me, toying with my struggling mind.
He chuckled. "I have the means and resources to frame you if you don't."
"You keep undermining yourself. If you have the means, why all the unnecessary executions then? Wouldn't framing us all be easier?"
"When the will to live is broken, the soul becomes clay, ready to be reshaped. This isn't about your squad; this is about you, sweetheart."
The words bounced off the thin walls of my head, getting louder and louder with every direct hit to the bone.
"There's no one else being held hostage, beside you." He added.
"That's because you couldn't catch the others-" I hissed.
"Because we didn't have to. Getting them in custody, was never the plan. Getting any of you behind bars, only postpones the inevitable."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I refused to believe him. Johnny wasn't dead. Simon wasn't caught. John and Kyle won't blindly walk into his imaginary trap. I had sent out a warning in time... I was quick enough. This time, I made it in time.
"I will never work for you." I spoke, eyes cold as I side eyed him.
"We shall see." He replied, whistling right after, causing two Shadows to barge in moments after. "Get her to her cell. And careful-" He stopped one of them in their tracks, "-she bites."
Aggressively getting hauled off the chair, I was dragged out of the room, eyes glued to the man who dared threaten my team.
Meanwhile somewhere in the outskirts of Las Almas, Mexico
A lone off-roader drove over the rocky streets, its beams gently caressing the foreign flora and fauna while the drivers' eyes were always at attention. He was skimming the area consistently in the same rhythm; first his gaze scanned the land ahead. When he was certain there was no threat awaiting them, he checked the side and at last the rear view mirror, always expecting someone to follow, always on guard. Beside him sat his companion, his face set into a deep frown as he stared into the endless night surrounding them. It was clear as day that he was deep in thought.
"Who was the lad next tae Sinja? Ya recognise him?" He asked, not taking his eyes off the tree he saw in the distance.
The driver shrugged. "No." Came his answer soon after. "Did you?"
"Naw. I seen her eyes though, as she recognised him. At first it was fear, a look I dinnae seen often on her- but then it shifted, like she'd been swapped oot for somebody else. It was Sinja, but it wasnae her." The companion described what he had seen.
"What are you saying Johnny?"
"There was pure hate in thon eyes, Simon. Did ye no see how she tried tae pull her knife oot o' the sheath oan her back? She was ready tae pounce, bloody hell!"
"Graves called 'em lovebirds- past lovers maybe?" Ghost theorised.
"That lad must've really messed up if that was her first reaction tae him. An' the nickname? Cryo? What's aw this then?" Soap spoke aloud what came to his mind.
"Means cold, freezing. An allusion maybe?" The Lieutenant speculated.
"Ain't a clue." The man sitting on the passenger's seat mumbled.
Tense silence fell upon the inhabitants of the vehicle, as it continued rolling smoothly through the country. Both men were trapped in their own heads again. Thinking. Contemplating. Yet one of them, couldn't shake off the feeling a certain scream had brought forth. A yell that shook him to his core.
"I cannae get her scream oot o' ma mind." The Scotsman on the side-lines whispered. He wasn't sure what he was expecting of Ghost, after he had uttered what was so strongly etched into his brain. Has he only voiced his thought because he needed to let it out? Was he hoping his partner would console him, calm his racing mind? While he feverishly pondered over it, the driver was hearing his own version of the yell bouncing through his thick skull. His personal little hell.
"Ye think she's livin' and well?" The Sergeant asked.
"She will be. When we get her out." His friend assured him.
"What if we're tae late?" He didn't even dare voice his darkest fear.
"We won't be." Ghost reassured.
"Graves?" Soap mentioned.
"Keeping her alive is in his best interest."
"He'd better keep her breathin'. I cannae promise I won't shoot the bastard meself if it ain't the case." Both men concurred on one thing; should their beloved companion be found unresponsive all hell would break loose.
With the last hill now behind them, the car slid off the main road, and onto a gravely side road. Following the nearly invisible track, the vehicle slowly rolled to a still stand, just a small distance from a nearby house that had seen better days. Confused, Soap analysed the dilapidated building, the trees and endless fields surrounding it. Puzzled, he exited the vehicle after Ghost, following him like a shadow, always close by.
"Where are we?" Soap asked, eyeing the lone hut with uneasiness and apprehension.
"Alejandro's safehouse." The Lieutenant began explaining. "Gave me the location just in case."
"Why didn't he tell me?" Soap rightfully complained.
"It was need to know." Ghost justified.
"What if I needed to know-?"
"-Shh." The Lieutenant called out, lowering to his knee just outside the massive doors. Something was amiss, he felt it, prickling at his skin, forcing the hairs on his arms to stand at attention. Inspecting the two rather big wooden panels on the ground, he put one and one together-
"Pressure plate…" His partner was quicker to point it out. Crouched beside Ghost, he observed the area around them just as thorough.
"Alejandro rigged it." The Englishman commented.
"Smart bastard."
And clever he was, always expecting the unexpected, even if nothing pointed to it. While Soap was still occupied with the pressure plates, Ghost had his eyes roaming over the side of the building. Noticing an opening, he quietly called it out.
The Scotsman was first to climb up the crumbling exterior and through the window. Squeezing through the opening, he let his body drop down on the other side. Wet boots hitting firm ground, he held the assault rifle he had managed to snag from one of the Shadows while he was escaping, firmly in his grasp. Lifting it to his eyes, he looked through the night vision scope, scanning the interior for any threads.
Ghost was close behind him, having scaled the walls already, he was just about to descend, when he noticed a red laser beam shine directly onto Soaps turned back.
"Don't move." He called out instinctively, as he plucked a knife from his thigh and threw it in the direction of the beam's origin. With the red light vanishing just as quickly as it came, the sound of metal sinking into wood caught all their ears. The Sergeant, now certain he was able to move freely, turned towards the unknown assailant as well, backing up Ghost with his own deadly weapon in his hands.
"¿Quién está ahí?" ("Who's there?") The unidentified voice called out.
Eyes widening, Soap easily recognized the owner. "Rodolfo!"
"Soap!" Rudy's head popped out from behind the wooden pillar, his eyes making out the general characteristics that distinguished the two soldiers from the rest. "Ghost! You're alive!" He exclaimed, snatching the sharp knife that was embedded into the wood, right where his head was just a mere second ago. Twirling the knife to get a better feel for the tiny dagger, he left his temporary hiding place situated behind a stack of hay and old barrels.
"Affirmative." Ghost acknowledged, finally hopping off the windowsill and coming to a stand beside Soap.
"Good to see you, amigos." Rudy spoke, carefully analysing the state both the men were in.
"Igual, amigo." ("Same, friend.") The Sergeant agreed, relieved to see they were not the only ones that managed to escape Graves clutches.
"Nice throw." The Mexican remarked, twirling the knife in his hand until he grasped the tip with two fingers, offering it back to Ghost. The man who was once in his lifetime glad he decided against hitting his target. He had already been suspecting Alejandro's safehouse wasn't only meant for them, moreover anyone who was given the sensitive information of it whereabouts. Glad he was right.
"Where were you guys?" The question hung in the air between them.
"On the run." The Lieutenant stated. Much to his disapproval, the Scotsman beside him seemed to think differently.
"I wis on the run. Ghost waited for me." He explained. He knew Lt. was used to working on his own. It wasn't a secret he enjoyed his own company more than anyone else's. Truth be told, Soap half expected to be left for dead. He did not foresee Ghost would help him in any way, let alone ease his survival with useful tips and army humour. He was deeply appreciative for Lt.'s support, without him, he couldn't be sure if he would have been able to make it out of the maze called Las Almas.
"Of course, no?" Rudy voiced. He was the polar opposite to the quiet Englishman. He would sacrifice himself over and over, without a sliver of a doubt, to enable Alexandro's survival. This came natural to him. That is how he always took on what the earth had to offer, because he knew in a life-or-death situation, Alejandro would do the same for him.
"No-" Soap wanted to disagree, but Ghost interrupted him.
"-Yes. We're a team…" His eyes skimmed over the startled companion, an expression that caused delicate ache to strike his heart. "All of us." He pressed on. "This happened on my watch, and I'll need help to fix it. No one fights alone." His gaze was intense. He promised himself he'd make sure Johnny knew his words weren't empty vows. He meant it. It was time he let people back into his cold heart.
"Why did Graves turn?" At last, Rodolfo addressed the elephant in the room.
"Sinja- Ascii, figured it out on our way back." The Lieutenant spoke up.
"She told me she didn't…" Soap intercepted, hurt lacing his apprehensive words.
"She was being watched. The driver."
"Shite."
Nodding in agreement, the Lieutenant continued. "She knows the details."
"Las Almas can corrupt anyone." Rudy pointed out.
"Not us." Soap deflected easily, his voice dangerously low. He was still shocked by the turn of events.
"For now, General Shepherd, Laswell and anyone else outside this room is considered a hostile. With two exceptions." The Englishman exclaimed.
"Ascii an' Alejandro…?" The Sergeant asked.
"We need them back."
"Come…" It was Rudy that spoke this time, urging the two men to follow him to a nearby table. Flicking on the small light as he walked around it, he leaned over the map that was spread over the entirety of the surface. "Graves is holding them here." He pointed at a large structure just outside the city.
"His own personal black site prison." Soap voiced.
"My team is locked in there too."
"How do we get 'em back?"
"By breaking in." Ghost declared, leading Soap to shake his head with excitement. He couldn't wait to break into the massive facility and show Graves that size isn't everything. "And that's why I love the Ghost." He declared.
"It's gonna take more than this." Ghost was entirely in his element of reason and understanding. Their level of skill, tactical knowledge and unforeseen arrival wouldn't be enough to crash the party. They needed the weaponry to heighten their chances of survival. He wasn't prepared to lose anyone else on his watch. Not now or ever, preferably.
Lifting his gaze as the sound of sliding doors surrounded him, he caught sight of the endless number of firearms meticulously arranged against the walls. Smiling smugly under his mask, he foresaw their triumph a bit more clearly.
"It's well stocked." The Mexican assented.
"My man- We're gonna need new wheels. Preferably up-armoured." The Sergeant was as thrilled as the Lieutenant. He was thirsting for a well-executed vengeance now.
Observing his teammate catching a set of keys in his gloved hands, they both turned their heads as the lights behind them turned on, revealing a dark TAC-V. A light armoured vehicle that is highly mobile, versatile, and designed for quick deployment. Perfect for their scheme.
"Alejandro thought of everything." Ghost mustered.
"Yeah, he did." His accomplice agreed, slapping him on the shoulder. "Let's go get them."
The words rang in his ears. This wasn't just a mission to get the Colonel, the Corporal and the rest of Vaqueros back. It was an assignment to set the score straight, to get back what was taken from them; allies, comrades and especially a person that slowly slipped past his walls. She wasn't just anyone, she was, dare he say, a friend. Ghost fought with himself over and over what Task Force 141 was to him. Was it a party of people strictly following someone's commands? Just a strange group of individuals thinking alike? Or were they a close-knit circle of kindred individuals?
Drawing his own conclusions, he leaned over the dimly lit table for the second time, eyes skimming the map once more, however this time he was paying attention and forging a plan.
"The old prison is in a remote area outside Las Almas. It was maximum security until the Narcos took over, and it was permanently closed." Rudy explained, pointing at the prison imprinted on the plan. Pushing the bigger drawing aside, he pulled forth a detailed schematic of the prison itself. "There is no airstrip but expect helos for security and resupply."
Ghost was quick to conjure up a solid plan, his eyes analysing every line, every dot and scribble littering the off-white paper. "We'll drive to an offset and ruck up to our infil- here." His finger landed on one of the many towers, that was on three of four sides, surrounded by boulders, rubble and wild terrain. "If the security towers are manned, we'll need to take them out first and rope up the wall for entry."
"What about cameras?" Soap asked.
"There's CCTVs in the security room." Rodolfo disclosed, pulling both their attention to the room with four big letters scrawled over it.
"Good. We'll use them to locate Alejandro, Ascii and the rest of your men." Ghost declared while Soap continued. "Let's divide an' conquer. While Rudy's lookin' for Al, ah'll be usin' the cams tae help Ghost plant charges in key areas."
Ghost's plan was solid, but there was just the tiniest amount of 'kick' that was missing. The grand finale, the crème de la crème, and Soap had the perfect solution. Explosive charges.
"Diversions and sabotage. Nice, Johnny." Ghost complimented him.
"Ah learned from the best, Lt.." Soap was quick to return the praise. It was the teamwork that made the dream work. "Aince we spot Alejandro, Ascii an' Los Vaqueros, we'll regroup an' pry them loose."
"We'll carry extra guns in to arm my men and fight our way out the way we came in." Rudy quickly added, before Ghost asked if there were any more questions.
The corners of the Sergeants mouth turned upwards, as twinkles shimmered in his eyes. "What are we waitin' fur...?"
03rd November 2022, Las Almas Prison, Mexico
In the dead of the night, as the sound of cicadas filled the air and the cold breeze caressed the exposed rocks and thirsty plants, three men made their way to the outskirts of the prison. With the fog lingering in their presence, enclosing the massive structure in a ghostly veil, the large light beams struggled to break through the thick, opaque mist, giving a haunting yet tranquil presence amidst the obscurity.
There were no sounds that would indicate anything was amiss, nor grunts or bangs. The only man-made noise were the Shadows falling prey to the paraphrase they decorated themselves with as the conquerors slipped through the cracks, unseen and unknown. Slithering closer to the chamber of countless eyes that are unseen yet ever-present, the men made quick work of the remaining soldiers, bringing forth once more, peace and quiet as they settled into the room.
"We're clear. We'll use the closed-circuit to locate my men." Rudy declared, already making his way to one of the screens, casually stepping over the two Shadows that littered the floor. Planting his heavy backpack beside the table, he flexed his shoulders, a small snap escaping his tense bones, before he leaned over the table and the display swallowed up all his attention, except for his right ear.
"An' find Alejandro an' Ascii." Soap uttered, curiously checking out the second laptop.
"We'll need diversions when we move. I'll plant charges on the outside. Soap, your eyes will guide me." Ghost made known, adjusting his own weapon and counting his stash of ammunition clips, and knifes attached to his body.
"Aye."
"Get on those cameras." The Lieutenant ordered, ready for the next step.
Without further ado, the Sergeant placed his weapon on said table and pulled the device closer.
"I'm out, watch for me." Ghost announced, giving his teammate a solid tap on the chest before turning and urgently walking out the door.
"Rog. Good luck, Lt.!" Soap called after him, holding a thumb up into the air. Watching the man vanish behind the corner, he turned back to the screen and immersed himself thoroughly into his task.
It was time to show what first-class cooperation looked like. They were in utter harmony as Soap skipped through the cameras, surveying Ghosts every step, every turn, every move. He advocated him how to proceed in every situation. Slither past some crates, duck behind a truck, climb a ladder and jump down on the other side, facilitating new options to evade or take out enemies.
"A little help's not so bad, eh, Lt.?" Soap noted with a smug smile.
"Stay focused, Johnny." Ghost whispered.
"Just sayin'..."
"Keep it tactical, Sergeant."
And they kept it tactical, with the occasional remarks slipping past the Scotsman lips. Although Ghost responded as if it was inappropriate, both despite appearance telling otherwise, needed it. They had pent up emotions swirling through them, emotions they had to let go and out eventually. Soap was simply more laid-back when it came to honesty. He didn't mind what was caught up in his heart, yet only with the right people present he allowed his feelings to slip out. And while he voiced his strung-up emotions, Ghost's facial expression did the talking for him.
"Trash bin on your right. Time to take out the trash..." Soap muttered as Ghost got rid of an approaching enemy.
"Shut up, Soap- Fucking hell..."
But there was a tiny smile in that forged annoyance, as Soap continued instructing Ghost which Shadow to get rid of in close combat, which from afar and which could be left alone for the sake of time optimization.
"I'm pretty good at this, eh, Lt.?"
"I've seen better."
"Who...?"
"Me..."
Soaps face lit up, smiling from ear to ear at Ghosts jab. He knew he'd come around eventually. He had heard his terrible army humour and his comments as he tried his best to escape the nightmare in Las Almas. They worked exceptionally well together, they all did. His fingers twitched as he was reminded of their mission in the outskirts of the mountains, moreover Hassan's residence. How Sinja and he cleared out the remaining rooms, the way she adapted to him was fascinating…
"We're all set here, Johnny. Have we located Alejandro?" Ghost spoke in hushed tones in his comms.
"Perfect timing. I found him." Rodolfo piped up.
"Where?" Soap pulled away from his screen, glancing over in Rudy's direction.
"Stand by..."
The sole video he had open on his display, switched to a four-way screen of the prison level. One of the screens revealed the Vaquero pacing in his cell and shouting at the guards outside. Another screen showed two Shadows guarding his cell.
"Bloody fucking hell, that's him." Soap cursed.
"He's in solitary. Two on the door." Rudy uttered.
"I see 'em. Ghost, we got him. He's alone. Two Shadows on guard." The Sergeant notified the Englishman.
"What about Ascii?" He asked in return.
"Rudy's lookin'-"
"Found her..."
With a few clicks, the screen depicted the inside of Ascii's cell. She seemed to be leaning against a wall in the furthest corner of the room. The camera was set up high above her head, capturing nearly the entirety of the room, beside the corner bellow it. Furrowing his brows, Soap noted that she had no mask on; he could distinguish her light hair and the bridge of the nose poking from beneath the dishevelled golden locks. He didn't like this one bit. Glancing at the doorway, he noted the peek hole was open and a set of eyes were staring right through.
"Who is that? At the door?" Rodolfo asked, the hairs on his arms standing at attention.
Flicking to a different scene, the man was now fully visible. He was standing at the door, moving his arms, clearly trying to coax Ascii to something. No one knew exactly what he wanted.
"That's the ane from before. Ghost, Ascii might be in trouble. The boggin eeijt (foul-smelling idiot) is at her door." Soap quickly explained.
"Not for long. RV outside the cellblock, we'll pry them loose once and for all." Ghost retorted sharply. He didn't like the sound of it. Didn't like that the Shadow was being so persistent. He believed Ascii- Sinja was a tough and capable woman. He only feared she might snap and break the man with anything her nimble fingers are able to grasp. He only hoped if she does, Graves won't act on impulse.
"Roger that, on the move." Soap called back, his own worries clouding his mind.
A few thousand meters further away, Las Almas Prison, Mexico
The cold, damp plaster clung to my sweaty back as I leaned against the wall, staring blankly ahead of myself. My surroundings were too loud, too irritating and aggravating. The air smelled musty, with a tinge of staleness and death. The sickly-sweet odour penetrated my senses, while it left a metallic aftertaste in my mouth, coating my tongue in a thin sticky layer.
It was difficult for me to focus my attention, challenging to separate reality from illusion. I was not in any way capable of escaping my captivity, the only thing I could do was wait. Wait and hope. Hope help would come eventually, hope my message reached its destination in time. Has Kate already informed Kyle and John of what was happening? Has she figured out my message? She has, she must have… She was quick witted when it came to our confidential communication.
And John? Was he worried sick? He always worries when things go astray, this is no different. What about Kyle? Is he moving hell and earth to find me? Find us? And Johnny? Oh Johnny… How will I explain to the Captain that he is gone? How will I comfort Ghost? If he is even alive anymore. What if they got him too? What if his body was dumped into some sewers? Forgotten and gone. And Johnny? Did they separate them when they chugged the bodies into a hole, never to be seen again? No. Stop. No one died. I have not seen any corpses, have not seen any proof, any evidence. But I have heard the shot. I have seen him fall…
"Ich wollte nie dass es soweit kommt, Kryo. Dich so zu sehen. Es fühlt sich nicht richtig an. Ich erinnere mich an eine Zeit, als die Dinge zwischen uns noch einfacher waren, als wir in meinem alten Auto herumfuhren und Musik hörten, während die Lichter der Welt an uns vorbei schwebten. Erinnerst du dich auch daran?" ("You know, Cryo, I didn't want it to come to this. I never wanted this. Seeing you like- this. It doesn't feel right. I remember when things were simpler between us, when we drove around in my old car, listening to music while the lights of the world flew past us. You remember, don't you?")
I slowly turned my head towards him. Midas. He was relentless, standing securely behind the shut gate. I could see his dark eyes watching me through the unlatched peephole, like a creep pursuing its next victim. It left me feeling restless. All the more because of the time that had passed since then. I have been rendered useless; I could not assess what he was or was not capable of anymore. I didn't know what he was prepared to do to get what he desired. The unknown… scared me. Hungry men are dangerous.
"Wenn du mit mir mitkommst, sorge ich dafür, dass du gut behandelt wirst. Unter meinem und Graves Kommando wirst du aufblühen, wie es immer gedacht war. Ich werde sogar versuchen, Graves zu überreden, dir eine Beförderung zu geben. Du bist besser als das, klüger. Lass nicht zu, dass dein Stolz dir im Weg steht." ("If you join me, I'll make sure you're treated well for eternity. Under my and Graves command, you will flourish, as you were always supposed to do. I'll even try and persuade Graves to give you a promotion. You're better than this, smarter. Don't let your pride get in your way.")
He was holding back. I could see the fury in his eyes as he stared me down, see the anger that bubbled beneath the innocent exterior. The strike I managed to pull off before, was only possible because he didn't expect me to do it. He never saw me fight back, never witnessed me rebel against him. I never defended myself before. Until now.
"Um zu beweisen, dass du stärker und schlauer bist, hattest du schon immer das Bedürfniss mich herauszufordern. Guck dir an, wo dich das hin geführt hat. Du bist einsam in deiner Zelle eingesperrt und hast niemanden, der dich retten könnte. War es das wert?" ("You've always had the need to defy me. To prove you're smarter, stronger. But look where it's gotten you. Locked in a cell, alone, with no one to save you. Was it worth it?")
I did not expect my silence to irk him as much as it did. It pleased me, through all the pain and dizziness, his desperation entertained me.
"Ich habe deine Sturrheit immer bewundert, aber du machst es dir nur noch schwerer und kommst an deine Grenzen. Sag mir dass du bereit bist es zu versuchen, und es endet ohne unnötigen Schmerz." ("You're only making this harder on yourself. You're stubborn- I've always admired that- but even you have limits. Tell me you're prepared to try again, and this ends without unnecessary pain.")
Silence remaind.
"Glaubst du, dich wird hier jemand raus holen? Dass deine ach so wertvollen Freunde alles für jemanden wie dich riskieren würden? Du warst schon immer die Entbehrlichste, Kryo. Sie sind mehr an der Position der dritten Rakete interessiert als an dir. Blicke den Tatsachen ins Auge. So oder so werden sie es nicht schaffen." ("You think they'll come for you? That your precious friends will risk everything for someone like you? You were always the expandable one, Cryo. They are more interested in the location of the third missile than you. Face the facts. They won't make it either way.")
Staying quiet, I simply watched him, counting the ever-growing cracks in his pitiful façade. Unexpectedly hearing a whistle yet again, he pressed his eyes shut in displeasure.
"Wir sind hier noch nicht fertig. Ich werde zurückkommen... Irgendwann. Und dann werde ich dich dort haben, wo ich dich haben will. Und du wirst die sein, die ich will dass du bist." ("We aren't done here. I'll be back… Eventually. And then I will have you where I want you to be. Who I want you to be.") I could see the smile that lit up his bandaged face, before he turned and barked orders at the Shadows stationed by the door.
Listening to his retreating steps, I allowed my eyes to freely explore the room. I was tired. Exhausted. Hungry. Thirsty. It was tough to stay fully awake, but then I saw it, stumbled upon a small gleam in the wall. Squinting my eyes, the tiny twinkle remained even when I tilted my head. Glancing at the camera above my head, I slowly lowered my body, imitating one's movements of wanting to take a seat. Nearly on the ground, I rather sat on my heels and bent forward, lowering my face as far as I could, without accidentally falling on it.
Touching the unknown substance embedded into the intersection between the rough wall and muddy floor, I flinched slightly at the unexpected chilliness I was met with. Sliding my fingers further over the surface I suddenly realized what I was finding at my disposal. It was a knife. Pulling it carefully out from between the cracks, I held the sharp object in my hands. Turning it over, I cleaned the blade of the dirt, when I noticed a small leaf etched into the metallic shaft. The leaf.
"My little leaf." I whispered. It was Morrisons knife. My namesake, Treebs. This madman managed to discreetly sneak a weapon into the cell. My cell. "Blasted son of a gun."
Rising to my feet, I swiftly hid the knife in one of my pockets. Stepping back, into what I presumed was within the cameras reach, I stretched my strained limbs and propped myself against the exposed bricks. Staring blankly at the wall opposite of me, I fought tooth and nail against my thoughts going off the tracks.
Abruptly, I heard a strange noise. Pushing myself off the wall, I winced quietly. How long had I been vegetating? Not having any time to dwell upon such a question, I plucked the knife out of my pocket and hid in the darkest corner of the room. Holding my breath, I strained my ears and listened.
It was a quiet scratching, a noise usually barely noticeable. But I was on high alert and in enemy territory, nonetheless. My life depended on my attention to detail. Without warning, two shots went off outside the door, followed by the sound of slumping bodies. Gripping my knife firmer, turning my knuckles white, the door flew open, soft lighting filtering into the room.
"Sinja?"
A person stepped in, followed by a second one soon after. I could see their silhouettes, distinguish their faces, the concerned eyes desperately searching for someone. For me.
"Johnny?" I called out as our eyes met and his expression instantaneously softened, causing my heart to stutter. "Ghost?" My hand that held the knife in a defence position, slowly lowered as I registered who was standing in the doorway.
"I saw you get shot..." My voice trembled, as tears stung my wide-staring eyes. "I thought you… I watched you fall to the ground…" The memory was burned into the back of my eyes. I could see my own hand as it reached towards the fallen soldier. An injured Johnny- a wounded friend, while his name bounced through my head, a loud scream penetrating the high-pitched sound ringing in my ears.
"Sinj-" Soap whispered, his face emitting worry and care.
Surging forward I embraced them both, gently pressing my face against their bodies, unbothered by the lack of professionalism it might emit. "Graves told me they got you too, Ghost." I pushed my cheek further into his shoulder, as I spoke past Soaps ear. "I didn't believe him… But my mind wandered."
"Sweets, we're awright. We're here." The Scotsman spoke up, encircling me with his free arm, just as Ghost did, although slightly hesitant.
Pulling away enough to face the former, I searched for any signs that would indicate what had happened. Spotting the bandage on his biceps, the bloodied sleeve and several cuts littering his arms and face, my heart wrenched in anguish. "I believed you had died." I murmured aloud what I had been apprehensive of.
"They just stahled me." He explained, holding my gaze with his own.
Turning my head towards the Lieutenant that had been standing close by, I quickly studied him as well. Noticing only a few minor splotches of foreign blood clinging to his gear, I let out an unsteady breath. "The asshole tried to convince me they had captured you…" I evaded eye contact with him. "Of course I questioned it, doubted him… But…"
"Graves will have wished he caught us." Ghost answered dryly, his voice rough and gravely.
I tried to speak again, but a chocked laugh escaped my lips instead. Taking a shaky breath, I gave it another go. "God- I thought I had lost you." I conveyed with such sorrow; I caused my own tears to finally flow freely. Without thinking, I stepped on the tips of my toes as I leaned in to kiss both on their cheeks.
"Thank you for coming for me." I whispered with a quivering smile.
Clearing his throat, Soap spoke up, his ears turning a faint pink colour. "Nae thanks needed. We aw would have done it fur each other."
I wanted to tell him he was right, voice my agreement, but I couldn't. I grasped the fact that Midas managed to slither past my carefully built obstructions around my precious mind, enabling him to plant one sole seed into the fertile soil. Doubt.
"Whit happened tae ye?" He asked bluntly, pointing at my forehead.
"Someone wouldn't listen, so I broke his nose." I clarified, running my fingers carefully over the sore area.
Ghost chuckled. "That's Ascii for ya, eh?" He commented. "I've gotta say, you look like proper shite."
"Should have seen him then." I chuckled it off, while I wished the ground would swallow me whole. I couldn't have fathomed they would see my bare face in such circumstances. Embarrassed, I looked at the ground when a hand came into view.
Glancing at the Englishman, I fetched the balaclava off his hands after he had wordlessly urged me once more to take it. Inspecting it in my hands, my fingers skimmed over the white paint resembling a skull. I was touched by his thoughtfulness.
"Johnny won't know who's who if I wear that." I teased.
"Ah can tell the difference atween yer arse and his." Soap grumbled, causing me to giggle as I draped the mask over my head, relief surging through my body as my face was hidden again.
"Let's get you out of here." Ghost disclosed, pushing me out of the door by my shoulder while simultaneously pressing a gun into my hands. "Alejandro is on the other side."
"He's here?" I asked as I was being shoved out the cell.
"Locked in his own solitary cell." A new voice spoke. Startled, I looked in its direction, becoming aware that our momentous moment was not only shared between the three of us but a fourth person as well. Sensing my ears become gradually warmer caused my cheeks to promptly flush a crimson red too. Relieved that no one would be able to notice it, I swallowed thickly, gathering my thoughts.
"Rudy!" I called out, overplaying the crisis in my head. "Glad to see we are still in your good graces."
"You know I've got your back, just like you have mine." He declared.
Smiling, I glanced at Soap who had a shit-eating grin on his face. Mortified, I slapped him on his chest. "Not one word." I intimidated.
"Ah wisnae gonnae say anything." He expressed, lifting his hands in surrender.
"I saw the look. Told me enough." I muttered as we, in hushed tones, followed the Lieutenant and Rodolfo down the hallway.
"Alejandro is down the hall, right side." Rudy called out as we rounded the corner.
"Expect contact…" Ghost warned, not too soon, as we came across two soldiers just outside the room Alejandro presumably was in. Making quick work of the two men, the Vaquero spoke up. "There's his cell… Open it up, I'll cover you."
Ghost stepped up to the door, pulling the bolt cutter of his back. "Ascii, when I pop this lock, you push in."
"With this mask? He won't recognise me." I hissed.
"You're the smallest one…" He made it clear.
Accepting his justification, I positioned myself beside the door and watched as he lined up the cutter with the latch. When the ruined lock hit the floor, I grabbed the door handle, pulled with all my might and pushed inside.
"Ale-"
I barely made it inside when a set of hands grabbed me by my collar and yanked me to the side. Hitting the wall with my back first, followed by a smack with my head, my world turned on its axis. Struggling, I saw the Vaqueros rage infused face, but what got my immediate attention was the clenched hand that was flying towards me with rapid speed. Scarcely managing to lift my arms to shield my face, Rodolfo rushed into the room.
"Coronel, relájate, cabrón, somos nosotros." ("Colonel, relax, dude, it's us...") He grabbed the man's arm and held him back. The Vaquero paused, eyes widening as he grasped who I was.
"Ascii!" Alejandro called while his other hand was still flatly pressed against my collarbone, holding me in place. Shifting, he glanced at the crew that was now filtering through the door, glancing at each one of them in susprise. "Rudy, Soap, Ghost…!"
"Didnae think we'd leave ye, did ye?" Soap exclaimed.
"Bloody hell, talk about sweeping a lady off her feet." I coughed, as his touch finally left me, allowing me to hunch forward as my feet regained the function of holding me upright.
"Fuck, sorry muñeca (doll)… What took you so long, pendejos?" He shouted as he mustered up the others.
"You know, hurling me against a wall ain't part of the idiomatic expression!" I remarked with a breathless laugh.
He grabbed my upper arm and pulled me away from the wall when Ghost hollered over us. "Place is crawling with Shadows. There'll be hell ahead."
"Let's fight fire with fire." Alejandro muttered, giving me a firm clap on my shoulder.
"There's more Vaqueros in the cells upstairs." Rudy announced, simultaneously informing Alejandro what the plan was.
"Time to get them out." The Sergeant remarked.
"Órale, on you, Rodolfo." The Colonel stated, sending one last glance my way.
As we quickly exited the hideous cell, turning a sharp right and taking a set of stairs onto the next floor, Soap spoke up. "Ye lot seen Graves here?" His question came out sharp, anger threading through it.
"No, but I plan-" "Yes." I involuntarily interrupted Alejandro.
"Ye did? When? Where? Here?" Several questions spilled out of Soap in a moment's notice.
"Uncertain. He interrogated me before I was thrown into my cell." I elaborated, noticing Ghost's grim eyes on me.
"What was he after?" He asked.
"Wanted to know if I had any background knowledge." I recalled his outright devotion to see through me, to figure out what I knew, and to which extend. It wasn't just him trying to exactly pinpoint where I was in his scheme or where he wanted to place me, he wanted total control. Control he had lost in a matter of seconds.
"And do you?" Ghosts question snapped me out of my thoughts.
"I know everything." I confessed.
"Lavvy heid (Toilet head)." Soap commented under his breath.
"That's not all…" I continued as we followed Alejandro through a wide-open door into a corridor that continued behind a corner. "Wanted to recruit me."
"Whot?!" The Scotsman was at a loss for words as I hummed in agreement. "Whit did ye…?"
"I politely told him to shove the offer up his ass, what else?" I snorted.
"Absolute menace-"
"Te dije que tenía pelotas." ("Told you she has balls.") Alejandro chirped in.
Coming to a still stand just before the corner, Alejandro signalled for us to make use of any grenades we might have in our stashes. Coming short on my own end, I pressed myself flush against the wall and peeked around the corner. Noting two men approaching us with heavy shields, I gestured for Soap to make use of the half empty beer bottles resting openly beside some crates. Observing as his eyes lit up, he grabbed the two bottles and faintly smelled them. Grimacing, he quickly put two pieces of fabric, he had previously nicked off a fallen Shadow, into their necks. Urging Ghost to light them up with his lighter, he chucked them towards the soldiers. Waiting patiently, our restraint was rewarded by horrendous screams shattering the quietness.
Pushing on, we rushed past the fallen fighters arriving at our destination. Swiftly glancing around, I was quick to release the men from their cells, after Alejandro had pointed out the doors are powered by the controls across the hall.
"Órale, mis hermanos hasta la muerte... el Sargento Parra tiene armas, tomen una y esperen aquí."("My brothers in arms... Sergeant Parra has guns, take one and hold here.") Alejandro called out as the men speedily escaped their captivity.
"Comandante, estás vivo. Bendito sea."("Commander, Thank God you're alive.")
"Rest of you with me..." He continued spitting orders as his men voiced their own opinions.
"¡Ninguna prision puede detener a Los Vaqueros...!"("No prison can hold the cowboys...!")
"El unico que puede matar a Alejandro es Alejandro..."("The only thing that can kill Alejandro is Alejandro...")
Escaping through another set of steel doors, the space immediately opened significantly to our disadvantage.
"This was the mess hall." Alejandro disclosed as we stepped foot onto the walkway just above the infamous hall. The tiny wall keeping the usual personnel from falling off the side of the catwalk, was demolished, allowing us to easily jump off and land amid the dining hall.
"Let's make a mess..." Soap remarked, a chuckle escaping my throat just before the lights around us suddenly lit up, blinding us momentarily.
"Shadows know we're here, stay sharp." Rodolfo yelled, searching the open galleries above our heads, the several doors inside the room and the walkway behind us, for any enemies. It didn't take long, for the first shots to get fired, as we fought our way through the now messy hall.
Finally exiting the building after a few close calls, Rudy broadcasted our next moves. "Exfil vehicles are set. Ghost planted charges to help us get out."
"With Johnny's help." He stated.
"I can't call Soap "Johnny"..." Alejandro expressed honestly.
"Don't. Only Ghost an' Ascii can pull that aff." Silence overcame me as my thoughts thoroughly crystalized. I had not expected Soap, Johnny, to tolerate it, let alone approve of us, of me, calling him by his name. Rarely one does, from what I had experienced the past few years in the army. But what has changed? What caused the change of mind?
Furrowing my brows, I blinked several times.
What happened back then? What took place while I was unconscious and under Graves watchful gaze? What had Soap and Ghost experienced? And what caused Ghost's change of heart? Looking back, I knew for a fact he wasn't fond of us when we first met, his mannerism betrayed his thoughts, and I could read him like an open book. But what I assumed was a finished book, turned out to only be a chapter. He was an enigma through and through.
But his crumbling guard was welcoming, regardless. It made him strangely human and oddly charming. In a way, like a certain Captain. Also, a man who wasn't entirely convinced I had it in me. Not that he ever expressed it, but I could feel it, deep down I just knew. I always do.
"Have you heard anything from Price?" I asked, as the immediate danger was dealt with.
"Nothing. Why?" Ghost answered me.
I hesitated. "Graves insisted he set a trap."
"You think he told the truth?" He pressed on.
"I- I couldn't read him..." I admitted.
"What kind of trap?" Ghost inquired.
"He didn't specify- he was adamant to let me know I was alone though."
"Trying to crush your resolve." The Lieutenant proclaimed.
"Tae get ye on board easier?" Soap chimed in.
"Likely. A solid approach." The Englishman observed.
"Failed nonetheless." I commented dryly.
"Sinja?" Soap called my name.
"Yeah?"
"Who wis the lad at the door? The yin that called ye… Cryo?"
I shuddered, shame washing over me. "Mercer Morton." I muttered, fighting to keep my voice as neutral as possible. "Better known as Midas."
"Friend?"
"Just someone I used to know. Not worth wasting breath over." From my lips to god's ears, I thought while I answered him. After all, it is I who is losing her resolve over a man I had walked out on years ago.
Changing the magazine of my weapon a bit more vigorously than I had intended, I gradually traversed further down the spacious plaza we found ourselves on, when I heard the distant sound of blades scratching the inside of my ears. Turning my head in the direction of the sound, a massive helo flew over our heads, whirling up the air around us.
"Helicopter - Searching for us!" Alejandro exclaimed.
"Jesus fucking Christ, they're bringing the big guns out now!" I raised my voice.
"We'll need more than this to take it out." Ghost yelled when all our earpieces suddenly came to life, a buzzing filling our ears before a voice called out through it. "All stations, this is Bravo-6 - Get down!"
Heart catching up on speed, I recognised the voice straight away.
Glancing from behind the barricade, I laid eyes on the Captain standing on the walkway of the massive perimeter wall. Barely managing to follow the rocket that flew out of the launcher, I watched it hit the chopper that was in our way. With a deafening sound the helo crashed to the ground, explosion lighting up the sky and forcing the surrounding debris to fly into the air. Eyes falling back on the man that rid us of our problem, I desperately searched for the companion that was always close by…
"It's Price!" The Lieutenant declared, not withholding his own excitement.
"Hell fucking yeah!" Soap joined his enthusiasm, while a weight ploddingly lifted off my chest. Graves- the bastard was bluffing all along, I mustered as I still searched for the missing fifth member.
"All Bravo and Vaqueros... Top o' the wall. Get here and I'll get you out. How copy?" Price instructed, as he threw a flair to the ground, the green light visually signalling for his position and catching all my attention.
"Loud and clear, Price. Comin' to ya...!" Ghost responded.
"Who is he?!" Rodolfo asked over the sound of the bullets flying around us.
"A friend..." I replied with a smile of my own.
"I like him already.¡Vaqueros, vayan al muro, entre las torres, ya!"("Vaqueros, get to the wall, between the towers, now!") He called out to his men.
Hurrying in the flare's direction, past a smaller sports field littered with several benches, I could now clearly distinguish Captain Price kneeling on the guard walk several meters above our heads. Passing another set of demolished half-walls, stopping in my tracks just below him, I saw him tinkering with a few, what seemed to be hooks attached to some cables.
"Be advised. Ropes deployed. Find 'em and climb." He announced as several cords fell to the ground beside me.
"We're clear for now, but Shadows are on the way, count on it..." The Lieutenant mentioned as he prepared to ascend.
"Sinja! Here..."
Looking towards Soap, he had his hand curled around his ascender, while he motioned with his other for me to join him. Not needing to be told twice, I stepped up to him, wrapping my arm around his neck while he held onto me. Taking off, we soared through the air for just a moment, when two strong hands come into view as we reached the top. Grabbing onto the one closest to me, I was pulled onto the cat way.
"Sinj!"
There he was-
"Gazzy!" I greeted him lightly, quickly pulling the young man in a short yet heartfelt hug. "Glad you made it, eh?"
"Wouldn't miss this for anything." He called back with a cheeky smile.
"Thanks to you." Price turned towards me, his eyes meeting mine as he nodded in my direction.
"Wasn't sure it went through in time." I offered a sheepish grin, releasing some of the tension I had been carrying with me.
"Was dead on time." Gaz conveyed loud and clear.
"Laswell got it then?"
He nodded, before his head turned towards the Colonel, who was just pulled onto the walkway by the Sergeant.
"Colonel Vargas, meet Captain Price an' Sergeant Garrick." Soap introduced him to the rest of our team.
"Thanks for the assist- my men need cover fire." He stated with a firm nod.
"Gaz, Ascii, Soap, Ghost- overwatch- now!" Price barked his orders.
Taking a deep breath, I swung my weapon around, taking position behind some firm cover. Skimming the area through my scope, I eliminated as many soldiers as I could, keeping tabs on every cowboy that still needed to escape. But soon, my thoughts wandered and my attention with it. Sweeping the courtyard, I began searching for either the freedom preacher or the coward of a man. Ignoring several explosions caused by the charges taped to the incoming vehicles, my gaze was relentless.
I recalled the rage I felt in my dream as a tremor lingered in my hands, the weight of life and death hanging in the air as I continued looking over the perimeter. Could I really pull the trigger if I had to? My heart wavered, caught between mercy and vengeance, each breath heavy with the question, would someone's abuse be reason enough for me to end their life?
And then, a storm of thoughts collided into one belief.
He tore me apart, piece by piece, until there was nothing left but the being he created- in his eyes a woman he desired, in the reflection a monster he deserved. If this is what I have become, then it is only fair I show him what it looks like up close.
I would be the death of him.
"Ascii, down the wall… We are leaving!" Price's voice boomed behind me.
"Aye aye, Captain!" I yelled, pulling away from the fence I was stationed behind. Dashing towards him, I swung myself over the wall, wiggled the rope between my legs and grabbed hold of it with my hand while the other kept the gun secure in my clutches. Steadily lowering my body, I kept tabs on my palm gripping the steel cord. While I managed to minimize the strength of the abrasion, it wasn't zero and when I landed on my feet, I recoiled with furrowed brows, inspecting the angry red lines running across my skin.
"Shit, you had no gloves?" Gaz cursed as I nodded my head in denial. "I have a spare on me, If I had known-"
"No harm done. And what kind of soldier would I be, if I couldn't rappel without them?" I winked.
A heavy thump beside us indicated Price had descended as well. "Those two are ours." He pointed to the two white vans parked close by.
"Rodolfo - You take the truck we came with!" Soap called out to him, nodding his head in the direction of the armoured vehicle to the far right.
"Roger that."
"¡Vaqueros, siganme...! ¡Rudy, nos vemos en el rancho!"("Vaqueros, on me...! Rudy, meet me at the house!") Alejandro yelled, causing his men to immediately distribute between the TAC-V and one of the white trucks.
"Sale, Coronel, suerte."("Will do, Colonel, good luck.") Rodolfo reported.
"Captain, follow me." The Colonel instructed as he marched towards the car with confidence.
"Copy. Gaz, drive!" He called, throwing the keys which Gaz easily caught in his hands.
"On it. Ghost, Soap, Ascii, this is us." He spoke as he speedily walked towards the cargo van on the far left.
Treading on his heels, we loaded into the back of the vehicle, sliding onto the cold seats as the Captain closed the doors behind us. Calling over his shoulder, Gaz started up the vehicle and peeled out of the combat zone following the Cowboy who drove ahead. Stretching my neck, I felt my energy hit rock bottom as I sat quietly beside the Price, head tilted back as I listened to the steady purring of the engine and the low buzz of the vehicle ahead of us.
"Shepherd burned us." Ghost declared, hostility coating his words.
"He sent Graves an' his Shadows tae kill us an' round up Los Vaqueros." Soap's fury matched the Lieutenants to a tee.
"We know why." Price announced. The sudden silence gave me enough reason to open my eyes again and catch him studying me. "You figured it out, yeah?"
"I have." I breathed out.
"Blasted, how'd you manage that?" I heard Gaz ask from the driver's seat.
Swallowing harshly, my throat went dry. "Went against orders." I confessed after a moment passed.
"Whose?" Price immediately questioned.
"Graves." I sighed. I was tired, dehydrated and starving. Side-eyeing him, I watched the corners of his mouth turn upwards, a smile crossing his rugged features. A smirk, I rarely saw, but when I did, I knew he was proud. Proud of me.
My heart fluttered.
"Glad you did. Would you do us the honour then?" He asked.
"The honour is all yours Captain. I want to compare our intel." I admitted, the corners of my mouth shifting to a grin as I glanced out of the window, watching my teammates in the reflection.
That is what I would call a roller coaster of emotions. My god, I spit that thing out in three darn weeks, putting down the last word like... ten minutes ago. I am spent- but what's more important, she kissed them ;)