Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The trouble started when you arrived at the gym, for your early morning physical training session.

In all honesty, it was earlier in the morning than you would’ve liked it to be, but the last thing you were going to do was question your timetable when you’d only been a part of Task Force 141 as a sniper for three weeks.

Though you were groggy and still half-asleep, you were at least dressed and ready, putting one foot in front of the other. The brightly lit, sterile corridors of the base were empty, meaning each step in your clunky army boots was echoing loudly around you. The fluorescents were casting a harsh, white light that burned your retinas.

As it turned out, Price was waiting for you by the entrance to the gym. He was leaning against the doorframe, arms tightly folded, a small smile on his face.

“Morning, Private.” He said, giving you a little nod. “Nice of you to join us.”

Instantly, you took your phone out of your pocket, checking the time. It was 7:28AM. You weren’t late. You were two minutes early.

“I’m not late, sir.” You replied, a touch of nervousness leaking into your voice. This was an unusual situation, and you’d been here just long enough to know that ‘unusual’ never meant ‘good’.

“What?” Price asked, his brows furrowing in confusion. He checked his watch. “No, you’re not. That’s not why I’m waiting for you.”

“Oh.” A small wave of relief washed over you, allowing your shoulders to stop tensing and relax. “So… why are you here, then?”

At your words, Price inhaled a sharp breath. The smile dropped from his face, leaving only an expression of thought, and concern. Your eyes wandered towards the gym door, glimpsing inside beyond Price’s lean frame. From the angle you could see through, you could spot Soap a little ways inside, sparring with someone out of view. He was already breaking a sweat, running a shaky hand through his mohawk. How that bloody Scotsman always managed to be so darn chipper every goddamn morning, you would never understand.

The sound of Price letting out his breath drew your attention once more. He glanced around, somewhat conspiratorially, even though the cold corridor was completely empty.

“Well, truth is, I have a job for you.” Price admitted, tilting head to the side. His lips pursed. “But I can’t talk to you about it here. Come on.”

With that, without even waiting for you to respond, he stood up, stepped away from the wall, and turned on his heel. His boots made a rhythmic thunking sound as he walked away. You gave him a single nod and followed close behind.

In truth, though you had stayed quiet, there were a million things you wanted to say. Your mind was already in motion, trying to predict what he might be about to ask you to do. In the entire three weeks you had worked here, he hadn’t needed your help for anything. Every day had been the same routine of training, briefings, and patrols.

So what could he possibly need from you now?

But you kept your mouth shut, tried to remain calm, and kept obediently following behind your superior officer. He led you back through the base, away from the gym and the living quarters. Eventually, he was guiding you down corridors that you’d never even seen before. Back here, everything seemed empty and abandoned. Dust coated every surface like a blanket of passing time. Mould and dirt grew in the corners, like tendrils of decay.

And once again, you asked yourself… what the fuck was he getting you into?

After what felt like forever, Price finally turned into a doorway. You followed him into what was a very basic, very plain office. It certainly wasn’t Price’s office. You’d never been to this part of the building before, after all. There was a desk with a computer, a filing cabinet, and an open window that looked straight out to a brick wall. The morning light streamed across the room, the beam illuminating all the dust and dead skins cells floating in the air. Just the sight of it made the back of your throat tickle.

“Alright.” Price announced, clapping his hands together as he sat down behind the desk. He gestured to the chair in front of it. “Take a seat.”

You glanced around, cautiously. Why had he brought you to such a remote room? This place looked like no one had been here in years.

“Captain… what is going on?” You pressed, reluctantly sliding into the chair. The coarse fabric rubbed against your black combat trousers.

Price leant back in his chair, lighting up a cigar. The smoke from his first inhale surrounded his head like a halo. When he exhaled, he blew towards the window, saving you from the worst of it.

“Last night, we had a visitor. An unexpected visitor.” Price began. His eyes were vacant as he seemed to recall a memory, his gaze fixed on the window. “He’s from Kortac. He said he wanted to defect, and that he had valuable intel for us.”

Price paused. The silence in the room was deafening. You could feel your jaw hanging open in shock and it took conscious effort to close it.

Someone from Kortac wanted to defect?

Kortac, your rivals? Kortac, that had ruined so many missions in the past? It didn’t matter that you hadn’t been there to see it - you’d read the reports. You knew what they were capable of.

“And you’re… actually considering this?” You asked, still dumbfounded.

To your surprise, a little smile tugged at the corners of Price’s mouth. He shrugged slightly, blinking at you.

“Sounds crazy but…” He trailed off for a second, to take a long drag from his cigar. The smell was starting to fill the room, the heavy, acrid scent of smoke infecting your nostrils. “Intel is intel. And soldiers are soldiers.”

Price blew out smoke once more, careful to point it towards the window, and not at your face.

“If he can prove we can trust him, then he’d be valuable.” Price explained. His tone was very matter-of-fact, no emotion leaking in at all. Not like your voice, so full of obvious shock and anxiety.

There was still one question on your mind. One question that you needed to know the answer to. A question that you feared you might already know the answer to, yourself.

But you had to ask.

“Sir…” You started speaking but trailed off for a second. Your throat felt a little dry. “Why are you telling me this?”

Price didn’t answer at first. Instead, he began digging through a pile of papers on the desk, rifling through files and occasionally chucking scraps into the bin next to him. After a few seconds of excruciating silence, he dropped a file in front of you. It had your name on it, and a picture of your face paper-clipped to the front.

“I did a bit of reading this morning.” Price replied, confidently. “You’ve got an education in psychology, and experience in interrogation, don’t you?”

Your heart skipped a beat. It took you a second to reply because you had to swallow, hard.

“Uh, yeah, sir. I do.” You said, slowly. Price smiled a little wider and nodded. His eyes glinted with recognition that he had been right.

“Yeah. Thought so. Sounds like it’s come in handy quite a few times in the past.” As he spoke, he leant back in his chair, the hand not holding his cigar placed gently over his stomach.

You considered his words, thoughtfully. He wasn’t wrong. Whilst you hadn’t been on any missions with 141 yet, you had certainly been on your fair share of ‘field trips’ in the past, and your knowledge often came in handy.

“That’s… true.” You admitted, feeling a little confident, but certainly not cocky.

“Well, this is both urgent and need-to-know. And as there’s no one else suitable on base right now, I’m giving you the job. Looks like your first mission as a part of 141 is going to be a bit of a trial by fire.”

“You want me to… talk to this guy?”

“Well…” Price said, getting to his feet, wandering over towards the window. He took another long drag of his cigar, leaving you to simply watch and wait, in silence. It was a little hard to bear. After a moment, he glanced back at you, frowning a little. “I want your opinion on whether or not you think he’s legit. And if possible, I’d like you to find out what information he has.”

Something churned in your gut. A large part of you had been expecting those words, but it didn’t make the obvious pressure to perform any less crushing.

“Okay, sir. I’ll do my best.” You nodded, obediently. Price shook his head, waving his cigar at you.

“No. You’re a part of Task Force 141 now. Don’t try, be the best.” He corrected.

A nervous smile cracked your features. Of course. You’d joined one of the most elite companies in the business – and they expected you to act the part. Your eyes wandered over to the door.

Price paused, as if stopping himself from speaking. The light had left his eyes a little, his shoulders ever so slightly slumped.

“One more thing.” He said. Your head snapped over to him, a single eyebrow raised in curiosity. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was about to make the situation better, or worse. “In order for him to open up to you, I’m going to need to send you in alone.”

It took you a second to absorb this information.

You were going to be interrogating a potential threat – a soldier trained to kill, that had killed soldiers that once had a place in your ranks. And you were going to be alone with him.

The worry must’ve been plastered all over your face, because Price’s expression changed instantly, the guilt changing to concern and sympathy.

“Don’t worry. We’ll be keeping an eye on you. Any problems, and we’ll pull you right back out of there.” He assured you, giving you a small smile. You tried to return it, but it was hard to make it look convincing.

“… Alright. What’s his name, sir?” You suddenly asked, changing the topic of conversation. Now that you knew what was coming, you just wanted to hurry up and get it over with.

In front of you, Price wandered back to his seat. He rested the half-burnt cigar in the ashtray, freeing his hands so that he could rifle through the files once more. Whilst he did so, he kept you trapped in that unbearable silence. You could’ve heard a pin drop.

Finally, he dropped a file in front of you. It had no name, and no picture. You frowned, glancing between Price, and the blank file.

“Well, no one knows his real name. Maybe you can find that out, but… I doubt it.” Price explained, opening the file. It held a single page of information. Very sparse information.

“All we know is, he calls himself ‘König’.”

Chapter Text

You left Price in the empty office and kept the instructions that he had given you in mind. Walk to the end of the corridor, turn left, and it was apparently the door at the end. You passed a lot of closed doors. Most of them without windows, meaning you had no idea what could lay beyond. It only added to the feeling of trepidation that was coiling like a snake in your gut.

As you walked, you took a few deep breaths, trying to calm your nerves and remember your training. This wasn’t your first rodeo. They recruited you to 141 for a reason. Now it was time to show them why.

A single head of sweat made its way down your back – a tell-tale sign that no matter how you tried to hide it from yourself and everyone else, you were nervous. It was definitely too early in the morning for this. Maybe too early in your time working here, too.

But when you turned the corner, you stopped in your tracks.

Ghost was there, standing by the door. He had his arms tightly folded, standing with his feet planted a shoulder’s width apart. When he saw you, he gave you a single nod. You adjusted your hair, self-consciously.

“You finally showed up. Good.” He remarked. His eyes flicked over to the door, and then back to you. He looked a little impatient, a single finger tapping on his elbow. “Took you long enough. Ready to go?”

“Good morning to you too, lieutenant.” You replied. Your voice was a little shakier than you would’ve liked. But, determined not to show weakness in front of your commanding officer, you mustered up a bright smile. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

Ghost nodded again, this time in approval. His hand went to his pocket, digging around for a moment, before he produced a key, and placed it in the lock of the door. It didn’t look like a normal key. Or a normal lock, for that matter. There were definitely some fancy electronics involved there that you didn’t understand. Ghost placed his hand on the handle, glancing at you.

“Alright. Let’s go. I’ll let you do the talking.” Ghost said, gesturing towards the door with his head.

You frowned. Ghost was… coming in with you?

“Wait, Ghost, I’m confused.” You said, holding out a hand to stop him. “Price said I was going in alone.”

There was a pause. Silence.

Then, Ghost slowly turned to look at you. His eyes were searching yours, his brows knitted tightly together in a frown that probably had the power to stop a man’s heart. He took a step away from the door, leaving the key in the lock.

“What?” He demanded. Apparently, it was now Ghost’s turn to be confused. And a little pissed off, by the looks of it. “Price is sending you in there by yourself?”

His sudden change in demeanour sucked all the words out of your throat. The way his eyes bored into your own was… intimidating. It made you desperately want to avert your gaze, and yet, you were unable to take your eyes off him.

“… Yeah. That’s what he said, sir.” You responded, dumbly. Your brain started working overtime, trying to remember the conversation you had just a minute ago. “Price said he wants me to build trust, and he said that can only be done if I go in alone.”

Ghost scoffed, shaking his head.

“Fuckin’ ridiculous.” He growled. Turning back around, he reached out for the key, locking the door once more. “That’s just bloody dangerous. I’m gonna talk to him.”

And with that, he stormed past you, his boots thunking heavily along the floor. You saw him turn the corner and disappear from view.

A second passed.

Price’s words echoed in your mind.

Be the best.

You heard Ghost’s footsteps fade. Then, the sound of a door opening, and after that, the door being firmly shut.

Your attention shifted back to the task at hand. To the door behind you, the key still left in the lock. You could either wait here, for Ghost and Price to argue for god knows how long, or you could take some initiative, and maybe even impress them.

The choice was clear. You reached out, turned the key in the door, and firmly depressed the handle. It made a series of clicks, as the electronic locks in the door released one by one.

It was time to go in.

You took one last deep breath, steeling yourself for what was about to happen. As if any number of breaths could ever be enough to calm your nerves right now. As if you weren’t going to have to just go in scared, just like always. Scared, but determined.

Slowly, you pushed the door open, and stepped into the room beyond.

The holding cell was dimly lit, and even more dismally decorated than the office Price had pulled you into. In here, dirt and grime coated almost every surface it could cling to. The floor and walls were slick with it, creating a heavy, moist quality to the air. If the only light wasn’t just a weak, yellowing bare bulb dangling in the centre of the room, you knew that you’d be able to see it coating the ceiling, too.

Your eyes traversed the room quickly, assessing it for furniture. You counted no windows, one solid steel table in the middle of the room, and two chairs on either side of it. On one side, the side closest to the door, the cheap metal chair was empty. On the other side was him.

The defector.

König.

He was leant forwards, his hands locked in a pair of handcuffs that looped around a hook in the table. As you entered, he was focused intently, playing with the chain. You took note of it, as it seemed a little strange. But the second he noticed your presence, he straightened up to full height, leaving his hands outstretched in front of him.

And… wow.

He was huge.

König was a hulking titan of a man, whose body seemed like nothing but rippling muscle built on a super-sized skeleton. His legs were so long that his feet reached the empty chair, on the other side of the table. His shoulders and chest were incredibly broad, even beneath all of the body armour and gear he was wearing. A quick glance at the empty holsters made it clear that he had already been searched for weapons. That was certainly a relief.

It also made immediate sense as to why his file had no picture. He was wearing a black sniper hood, with a streak of bleached orange under each eyehole. Behind the hood, he had black painted eye sockets, like Ghost. In the low lighting, it meant that all you could see were the whites of his eyes, watching you.

It was intimidating. Very intimidating.

But you couldn’t give up before you even started. You had to prove yourself.

“Good morning.” You said, making your way over to the empty chair. As you got close to it, he retracted his feet, seemingly making sure that they were out of your way. You took a mental note of that.

He didn’t reply to you, leaning backwards in his chair. His eyes travelled up and down your smaller frame, silently. It felt like he was sizing you up. You didn’t fancy your chances.

“Alright.” You mumbled to yourself, before slowly placing the closed file on the desk in front of you. You placed a hand on it, looking up at the giant sat across from you.

“I could read this file, but I’m not going to do that. I want to hear it from you.” You began, keeping your voice polite and even. It was a lie, of course. You had read it the second Price gave it to you. But he didn’t need to know that. Previous experience had taught you that sometimes, there didn’t need to be a ‘hard way’. Sometimes people took the easy way.

As you spoke, König gave you no reaction. Not a single recognisable emotion passed over his eyes. As if they were a completely blank slate.

“Who are you?” You asked, slowly. “And why are you here?”

“I am König.” He finally answered. His voice had an accent you weren’t familiar with. The patch on his arm told you that it was Austrian. You knew from your limited German lessons at school that ‘König’ was German for ‘King’. You took a mental note of that, too. Self-importance? Arrogance? It was unclear.

After a beat, he spoke again. “And I’m here because it’s a matter of life or death.”

This stopped you in your tracks for a second. Of course, you had already read the file, but that hadn’t been included. This was new information.

“Oh, really?” You responded. A single raised eyebrow and loosely folded arms were helping you portray an air of nonchalance. Hopefully, anyway. “Do you want to talk more about that?”

Moments passed. More silence.

König fixed you with a long stare, before finally, he averted his gaze. His eye wandered around the filthy room.

“Why am I being kept in a place like this?” He countered, suddenly. It threw you off a little. “I’m here to help. I’m bringing you important intel.”

Now it was your turn to look around the room. He had a point. This was the kind of room you would keep someone in as a punishment. It didn’t exactly scream ‘friendly welcome’. In all honesty, it looked like the kind of room someone might use for torture. The filth, the smell, the low light… it was not a pleasant atmosphere.

“Well…” You began, slowly. There was a nervous quality to your voice that gave away your unpreparedness for such a question. “The captain clearly thought this was the best place for you. This is just a holding cell.”

König shuffled a little in his seat. His hands tugged on the handcuffs slightly, making a sharp metallic clinking sound. Though you waited, he didn’t say anything else.

You gritted your teeth. This was going nowhere.

Maybe a subject change was needed.

“So, talk to me about the mask. We have no picture for you. Do you not want people to see your face?” You questioned, calmly. As you spoke, your eyes flicked down to the blank file on the table in front of you. König kept his gaze firmly on you.

“I could ask the same about your commanding officer. The lieutenant.” He said. There was a firm quality to his voice that hinted at defensiveness. “What’s his name? The Ghost?”

Once more, his response caught you off guard. The last thing this conversation needed was for Ghost to be involved. You leant back in your chair, folding your arms, brows knitted into a frown. It was important not to let him know that bothered you.

“It’s just Ghost.” You corrected, before letting out a sigh. “And… I suppose you’re right. I can understand wanting privacy.”

Parts of your training came floating back to you. To befriend a subject, validate their feelings and relate to their personality. Keep asking questions to get them to open up. Never make assumptions without evidence.

König fell silent again. God, it was like pulling fucking teeth. For a man so large, he had absolutely no bravado. No need to prove himself to you. Only a quiet, intense stare.

You tore your eyes away from his gaze to glance back down at the file. This was going nowhere.

“Alright.” You said, clasping your hands together. “You said this was a matter of life or death. I need to hear more about that.”

Silence. No reply. Only more uncomfortable staring.

Someone had to fill the quiet.

“I want to trust you. We need to trust you if you’re going to work here.” You continued.

Seconds passed. Nothing.

This was starting to make you feel a little anxious, and desperate. Price’s words still rang through your mind. It was imperative that you left this interrogation with tangible, useful information. You had to prove yourself to them.

“If you don’t talk to me, they’re only going to keep you in here for longer.” You warned, fixing him with a meaningful look.

You heard him sigh.

“Kortac have plans. Plans that spell all of your deaths.” König finally replied. His gaze dropped to his cuffed hands. “Plans that spell my death, too. That’s why I’m here. I have no interest in dying for Kortac.”

His words left your palms sweating with anxiety but filled your heart with satisfaction. You had gotten a meaningful answer out of him. A scary answer, but a useful one.

“Thank you.” You smiled, the relief washing over you like a wave. Instantly, your shoulders slumped and stopped tensing so hard. “Care to elaborate on what – ”

“I’m not saying anything else until I have a contract in my hands.” He declared firmly, cutting you off. His accent only got thicker when he became more agitated. “I have evidence. I can prove what I’m saying.”

After a beat, you nodded. That made sense, after all. If he played all his cards at the start of the game, he’d lose his leverage – and right now, it seemed like leverage was the only thing keeping him alive.

“… Okay. That’s understandable.” You said, softly, getting to your feet. “I’ll have to go have a talk with my superiors.”

“With your Captain, and the Ghost?” König quickly asked. The speed of it caught you off guard, making you swallow hard.

“Uh, yeah. With Captain Price, and Ghost.” You responded. The words came out slowly, cautiously. You picked up the file from the table, holding it close to your chest.

In front of you, König’s eyes were creasing into a smile.

“Well, you better run along then.” He said. As he spoke, his attention wandered once more, his gaze travelling up and down your body.

“It was nice to meet you, König.” You nodded, trying to ignore the way he was watching you. He seemed to smile a little wider as you continued speaking. “I’ll see you later.”

“It was nice to meet you too…” He paused for a second, his eyes flicking down to your chest. Specifically, the spot where your uniform had a cloth patch, signifying your rank. “… Private.”

You gave him one last nod, and with that, turned around and left the room. Making sure to lock it firmly behind you, of course. In fact, you double checked it. Just to be safe.

The second you were back in the corridor, you let out a heavy sigh of relief. You had done it. You had gotten answers. Now all you had to do was report back.

But as you made your way back to the office, a sound caught your attention.

The sound of raised, heated voices.

Chapter Text

“I don’t care what he has to say, it’s too fuckin’ dangerous!”

Ghost’s raised voice rang out through the corridor. He was yelling so loud so you could hear every word being said. It made you stop in your tracks. After a second, you heard him again.

“It’s not you that I don’t trust! It’s that Austrian tosser!”

You kept walking until you were standing just outside the door. Waiting. Listening. Wondering when you should go in. If you should go in at all.

Ghost sounded pissed. Talking to him right now was certainly a daunting prospect. Maybe even more daunting than talking to König.

But as you thought about that, you realised that now that you were so close to the door, you could finally hear Price’s calm, collected responses.

“…might have intel that could be beneficial for all of us. It’s a chance we have to take.” Price said.

There was a sudden slam, as if a fist had been pounded down onto the desk.

“A chance? It’s a fuckin’ RISK!” Ghost spat.

“We’re soldiers, Ghost. It’s our job to take risks. She knew that when she signed up.”

“I don’t give a fuck. I don’t fuckin’ like it.”

Enough. They were going nowhere, fast. You couldn’t just sit out and here wait for them to finish because clearly, they were nowhere near done with their conversation. It felt like they were going around in circles, and you’d only managed to hear a few sentences.

Preparing yourself for the uncomfortable conversation ahead, you pushed open the door.

Both men fell silent instantly, their heads swivelling around to stare at you. It was clear from Ghost’s wide eyes and Price’s blank expression that you’d surprised them.

“Private.” Price said, addressing you. “What – ”

“Give us a minute!” Ghost barked at you, cutting him off. He held up a single finger, as if to keep you at bay. His sudden speech made you flinch slightly. “You can go in after we’ve talked.”

“Ghost.” Price said, his voice flat and tired. “I’ve already told her she can go in.”

The lieutenant visibly bristled at the comment, his shoulders raising by a couple of inches. His attention snapped back to Captain Price, the fury clear as day in his tone.

“I’m not finished with this fuckin’ conversation.” Ghost retorted, quickly. Price rolled his eyes, collapsing back into his chair.

For a second, both of them were quiet.

And so, you finally spoke.

“Actually…” You began, taking a deep breath. “I’ve just finished speaking to him. Here’s the key.”

You held out the key to Ghost, who was glaring at you in stunned silence.

Nobody spoke.

Your eyes flicked between them. Your heart was beating so hard it felt like it should be making an audible sound. His eyes were full of a mixture of disbelief, and outrage. The sweat on the back of your neck was making your hair stick to you, uncomfortably.

“He didn’t, uh, try to attack me.” You mumbled, desperate to fill the quiet with something, anything. “He was… actually very calm.”

In the end, it was Price that broke their mutual silence first.

He let out a low chuckle, leaning towards you with interest. All Ghost did was scowl at you, his eyes wide with disbelief. You tried not to look at him. It was pretty fucking intimidating.

Since he made no move to take the key from you – or any movement at all, for that matter – Price reached his hand out and you gave him the key, instead.

“Well, there we go.” Price chuckled. The Captain’s eyes glanced over to Ghost, the amusement in them still sparkling away. “I guess that’s the end of the discussion.”

“You did… what?” Ghost suddenly said. He ignored Price’s comment, as if he hadn’t even spoken. You gulped.

“I… I’ve just finished speaking to him.” You repeated, softly.

Ghost took a step forwards.

“I told you to wait.” He growled.

You frowned, trying to remember the brief conversation you’d had.

“No you didn’t.” You replied, shakily. “You said you were going to – ”

“Don’t argue with me!” Ghost barked, angrily.

His loud voice made you jump. You shut your mouth. The last thing you wanted was to piss him off any more than you already had. For a second, all you could was breathe in stunned silence, trying to think of something to say.

But luckily, you didn’t have to. Price held out a hand, trying to bring some sense of calm back into the room.

What a relief.

“Alright.” Price said, softly. Finally, Ghost stopped staring at you and instead shot daggers at Price. “Calm down, Ghost.”

Surprisingly, Ghost kept his mouth shut, waiting for Price to continue. You didn’t dare interrupt. Not one tiny part of you wanted any more of his furious attention. Price was keeping his eyes on him, like he was a volatile animal, ready to strike at any second.

“Now, I asked her go in alone.” Price told him, slowly. “She was following my orders.”

“But she’s my direct report!” Ghost protested. The rough edge was still very present in his tone. It only made you more nervous. Your stomach was starting to twist into knots.

Suddenly, Ghost glanced back at you. It was hard not to flinch. He jabbed a finger in your direction.

“You report to me.” He growled. His voice was deep, and guttural. “I’m your commanding officer. I don’t care if Price outranks me. If I tell you something, you can’t just fuckin’ ignore it.”

“You didn’t tell me to wait!” You protested, exasperatedly.

It was the wrong move.

In one smooth motion, Ghost swept forwards, causing you to back up into the wall. It made you feel very small. He towered over you, his large frame practically enveloping yours.

“I don’t care about the bloody technicalities.” He snarled. Behind his mask, you could see his jaw clenching. “You knew I didn’t want you to go in alone.”

Your mouth flapped like a fish, failing to find the words to respond. All of a sudden, your throat felt very dry.

He didn’t move, didn’t give you any space to think. If anything, the longer you didn’t give him an answer, the more he loomed over you, menacingly. His eyes narrowed.

Price cleared his throat.

It cut through the tension like a knife. Ghost didn’t move away from you, but thankfully he turned his head, looking behind him. Ghost’s chest was blocking you from seeing the captain, but as he spoke you heard the disapproval in his voice clearly.

“Ghost. Leave her alone.” Price said. “She’s just confident. So what? Aren’t you?”

Ghost gave him a small grunt of recognition in response. He finally took a step back, giving you room to breathe. As soon as he could, Price caught your eye, giving you a small smile.

“The real question is… what did you learn?” He asked.

Slowly, you made your way around the hulking form of your lieutenant, to drop the file back down on the desk. You placed your hand on it after it fell, glancing between the two gentlemen.

“It sounds like KorTac have some kind of plan to, uh, kill your rivalry.” You answered, cautiously. “And all of us. And him, too.”

Seconds passed. Ghost let out an amused snort.

“And why the fuck would we believe him?” He chuckled, cruelly.

It ignited an angry flame inside you. He was going to pick apart every word you said. The arrogance was rolling off him in waves. For once, you fixed him with a defiant glare.

“He has evidence that he’s willing to share.” You answered, coldly. “But – ”

“What does he want?” Price suddenly cut in.

It was a relief to have somebody else to think about. Without Price, there would be no one to keep Ghost from flying off the handle. You turned to look at the captain, thinking about König’s demand. Guilt knitted your brows together.

“He said he won’t share any proof until he has a contract in his hands.” You replied, softly. “I think, at the very least, he’s serious about defecting. It sounds like he doesn’t have a choice.”

“Of course he said that.” Ghost scoffed. He was already shaking his head. “You know what I think? I think – “

“We know what you think!” Price suddenly shouted, cutting Ghost off. It made both of you stop in your tracks. You couldn’t help but stare at him. In your three weeks of working here, this was the first time you’d seen Price raise his voice. And at Ghost, no less.

Stranger still, Ghost just… stood there and took it.

“You know what, Ghost? I’m going to talk to you about this later.” Price declared, firmly. He gestured to the door. “So, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to talk to the Private here. Alone.”

A heart stopping, nerve-wracking moment of silence passed.

Then, Ghost let out a short, harsh breath. It was a noise of pure exasperation. He glowered at Price for a few seconds, looking him up and down. Like he might say something back.

But surprisingly, without another word, he turned around and stormed out of the room. As he reached the door, his eyes met yours for a single second.

They were full of fury.

Cold, terrifying fury.

Then, he grabbed the handle and slammed the door shut.

You didn’t say anything, at first. Neither did Price. The only sound that filled the room was the sound of Ghost’s heavy boots, thunking loudly as he stormed down the corridor. Only when the sound finally started to fade did Price finally say something.

“He’ll be alright.” He said, softly. It caught you by surprise. You spun to look at him and found that he was… smiling. It was a soft, warm expression. Definitely a far cry from the way Ghost had been looking at you.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have gone in without him.” You mumbled.

Now that the immediate threat was gone, the adrenaline was leaving your system, making your legs feel a little shaky. Price shook his head at your words, confidently.

“Nonsense. You did a smashing job.” He replied, still smiling. He gestured to the chair in front of his desk, inviting you to sit. “I told you that I wanted you to go in alone. And you did.”

Choosing whether or not to sit down took no time at all. It felt like if you stayed standing, your legs were going to buckle from beneath you. The nervousness wasn’t really ebbing away like it normally would. Mainly because it did not seem like Ghost was going to let this go easily.

A storm was coming.

An angry, Mancunian storm.

“So.” Price continued, the interruption not allowing you to dwell on those thoughts. “What was he like?”

The question made your mind wander. Thoughts of König flooded your brain. His massive frame, his calm and collected demeanour, how his eyes looked behind his sniper’s hood…

“He was a man of few words.” You answered, thoughtfully. “But he seemed quietly confident.”

At this, Price nodded. His eyes wandered to the window, with its drab brick wall view.

“I’ve seen him on the battlefield. He’s a force to be reckoned with.”

“Are you actually going to hire him? Do you trust him?”

“Do you?”

Price’s question threw you off for a moment. He was watching you, with interest. You had to take your time considering your answer.

“The way he spoke was very… serious. Very cut and dry. No bullshit, no fluff.” You finally said. “So, I guess so. As long as he provides that evidence, yes. I trust him.”

Your words made Price smile a little again. He nodded, looking out of the window.

“To answer your question, it’s out of my hands.” Price said, softly. “All I can do is pass on what we’ve learnt to the higher ups. They’ll make a decision and get back to us.”

His answer was logical, but unsatisfying. You raised an eyebrow at the captain, searching his facial expression for more information than that.

“But sir, I asked what you think.” You said, leaning forwards in your seat. He let out a little chuckle.

“I guess you did.” He answered, trailing off for a moment. A single finger was stroking his jaw, thoughtfully. “Well, like I said, I’ve seen him on the battlefield. They don’t call him the human battering ram for nothing. We could really use that.”

The human battering ram?

That nickname hadn’t been in his file. Images of König’s hulking form flew through your mind, how he enveloped his chair and looked over you, even whilst sitting down. It made you feel so many things. Awe, anxiety… hunger.

You pushed it all aside. Price was watching you, expecting you to speak. You returned his smile.

“Yeah, I guess I can understand that.” You agreed, looking down at your lap. After a few seconds, your mind took a different turn. “But I understand why Ghost doesn’t trust him.”

Price shrugged, rolling his eyes.

“So do I, but that doesn’t excuse his behaviour.” He said. His eyes met yours, a touch of seriousness behind them. “I’ll talk to him. Don’t worry about that. You go and get back to your normal duties.”

Nervous energy was still pooled in your stomach like a pit of shame. It felt like Ghost’s angry eyes were still fixated on you, watching your every move. Even though by now, he was long gone, and doing god knows what.

But you didn’t want Price to know that. So instead of saying any of it, you kept your mouth shut and got to your feet.

“Will do, Captain.” You said, softly. Before you turned to the door, he held out a hand to stop you. He was staring at you with concerned, scrutinising eyes.

“Don’t forget - you did a good job today.” He smiled. “I’m proud of you.”

Something in you softened. He was trying so hard to undo what Ghost’s words had done to you. But was it enough?

It was too soon to know. You turned away, hiding the emotions that his sentiment had brought to your face.

“Thank you.” You mumbled. Wordlessly, he waved a hand towards the door, allowing you to leave.

And leave you did. You swept out of the door, and back down the corridor. A quick check of your phone told you that it was nearly 9AM. You’d missed breakfast, and you were going to have to swing by your dorm for an emergency snack to make up for it.

You tried to keep your head clear as you walked.  There was a long day ahead, and it had only just begun.

Chapter Text

After the strange events of the morning, the day flew by with ease. The only thing that was hard about the rest of the day was keeping your thoughts in check, as you went about your normal duties. Your patrols, training sessions at the gun range, the briefings you sat through… all of it fading into the background as your mind constantly wandered. Thoughts about König. Thoughts about Ghost. Your brain just wouldn’t stop.

And it was still like that when you got to the last training session of the day. Physically, your body left the changing room and headed into the gym, but mentally, you were a thousand miles away.

“Private!” A voice called, dragging your mind kicking and screaming back into the room. A Scottish voice. You turned to see Soap walking up to you, a smile on his face and his hands in his pockets. “Didn’t see you this morning. Was somebody skiving off?”

His playful tone made a small grin tug at the corners of your mouth. You folded your arms, fixing him with an amused glare.

“Yeah, totally. I just fancied a lie in.” You responded, jokingly. Soap chuckled appreciatively, nodding along with you.

“Uh huh. Right.” He replied, his voice thick with doubt. After a beat, he glanced over at the sparring ring, in the centre of the room. “Well, if you’re so well trained that you can miss a session, why don’t you spar with me and prove yourself?”

Then, it was your turn to look at the ring. It was a little bit of a nerve-wracking concept, sparring with someone who was clearly so much physically stronger than you – but to your own surprise, you nodded. The urge to hand Soap’s ass to him was surprisingly strong.

“Alright.” You sighed, in reluctant agreement. “Let’s do this.”

Soap silently gestured towards the ring, allowing you to enter first. You did so, mentally elsewhere once more, as you desperately tried to remember all of your training. Hand-to-hand combat had never been your strong suit, but in fairness, that was why you were a sniper.

“Are you going to let me warm up?” You asked, some caution in your voice, as you began jumping up and down. Trying desperately to wake up your body after it had been so taught and tense all day. Soap let out another low chuckle.

“Of course. Don’t want you having any excuses when I beat your ass.” He laughed, heartily. The thin veil of sweat that coated his body told you that he was more than ready. You began stretching, still jumping around occasionally to get the blood flow going.

“Okay.” You sighed, after a few minutes of stretches. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.”

You swung first. A solid left hook, aimed right at Soap’s face. He dodged backwards, a little laugh escaping him.

“Wow. Someone’s eager.” He jibed, a twinkle in his eye. A smile tugged at your lips, but you didn’t respond. You kept concentrating, watching his movements.

He launched himself at you. You tried to dodge to the side, but he managed to grab your arm. He used it as an anchor to yank you towards him. As he pulled you close, you reacted quickly, slamming your fist into his chest.

You may as well have done nothing at all. All he did was look down at your clenched hand and laugh.

“Really? That’s the best you can do?” He goaded, using his free hand to grab your wrist. He now had each of your arms in each of his hands, forcing you to stay facing him. “What are you gonna do now, eh?”

You couldn’t move your arms. But you could move your legs. And soap’s legs were wide open. One course of action was clear.

“I’m probably going to say sorry.” You smirked. His brows furrowed in confusion.

“Wha – “ He began, but you didn’t let him finish.

In one swift movement, you pulled your knee up, hitting him in the crown jewels.

“Fuck!” Soap groaned. He doubled over instantly, allowing you to free yourself from his grasp. As he bent over, you brought your leg back down and stomped on the inside of his foot. He yelped in pain.

Then, Soap fell to the floor with a crash.

For a moment, all you could do was look down at him, and let out a satisfied laugh.

But it was a mistake. As you stood and laughed, Soap grabbed one of your ankles and swiped it to the side, making you lose your balance. In seconds, you were tumbling down to the floor as well, landing in a heap next to your fallen squad mate.

“That’s no’ fair. You’re fighting dirty.” Soap growled. You tried to place a hand beneath you to get up, but Soap was faster. He grabbed your free arm and straddled your back, forcing you face down onto the mat. Then, he tightened his grip, and slowly pulled your arm up towards your head. The twisting movement was agony.

“Ah, shit!” You cried, pain shooting down your arm. Behind you, you could hear Soap chuckling, smugly.

“You’re gonna have to be smarter than that, lass.” He warned. His voice was surprisingly close to your ear, revealing that he must be leant down over you, as he kept you pinned to the floor. Too close for comfort. “You can’t just stand and laugh in the middle of a fight.”

An audible growl escaped your lips as you wrestled with him, trying to turn your body and throw him off. But it was no use. He was far too heavy, and his hold on your arm was far too tight.

Behind you, you could still hear Soap’s gleeful laughter as he kept you pinned. It was infuriating. You’d beaten him before, so you’d be damned if you were going to let him win now.

“I can fight dirty too, Private.” Soap snarled. He said your rank like it was a dirty word. It took you by surprise. His tone was surprisingly dark. “Just you wait and – “

All of a sudden, Soap’s grip eased. He let go of your arm completely, and the relief washed over you like a wave. But why…?

“That’s quite enough, Johnny boy.” A gruff voice said.

Ghost.

The relief was gone, and your body tensed up once more. He was probably here to have a go at you for what happened this morning. Part of you wasn’t even surprised. You’d been worrying about it all day.

You felt Soap’s weight lift from your back, and instinctively got to your knees. A glance upwards told you that you were right – Ghost was standing above you both, arms tightly folded, brows furrowed together in a frown.

“Ah, we’re just sparring, L.T.” Soap said, a little breathlessly. He glanced at you, offering you a helping hand. “No harm done, right, Private?”

You took his hand. He lifted you to your feet with ease.

“Of course.” You replied, giving him a small smile. It was hard to make it look convincing when Ghost was scowling at the both of you like that. “I was just about to turn around and kick your ass.”

“Oh aye, were you really?” Soap jibed, giving you a cheeky nod. “How very conveni – ”

“I said, that’s enough.” Ghost growled. The two of you fell silent, instantly. Soap shot you a glance, his eyebrows raised.

After a second, he stuck out a hand for you to shake. You wordlessly took it, giving him two short pumps, before you both let go. Soap took one last look at Ghost, before he turned around and left, headed towards the changing rooms.

You watched him go, a mixture of different feelings still churning inside you. Ghost cleared his throat. All thoughts inside your head were silenced.

“Alright, Private. Put your fists up.” Ghost said. He took Soap’s previous position in the sparring ring, facing you, ready to attack.

You regarded your commanding officer for a second, trying to work out what his goal was, or what he might be thinking. The fact that his mask covered most of his facial expressions certainly didn’t help. All you could see were his eyes, and they looked just as flat and harsh as usual.

“Not going to give me time to recover, sir?” You panted, slowly bringing your fists up in defence. Ghost scoffed in response, shaking his head.

“You don’t get time to recover when you’re out in the field.” Ghost remarked, coldly. “So, get ready. Or don’t. I’m gonna attack you regardless.”

True to his word, Ghost struck out, making a grab for your shoulder. You dodged him and ducked around his other side. He spun. You swung your fist.

He caught in it his hand, glaring down at you.

“Slow. Weak.” He tutted, shaking his head again. “Try harder.”

You gritted your teeth. Smug bastard. A fire was lit under your arse.

He made another swing. You dived low, aiming for his legs. To your delight, you connected, knocking him to the floor. As you stylistically rolled onto your knees, you heard his large body slam onto the mat, and a sharp breath leave his lungs.

“Oof.” He groaned. “That’s more like it.”

But he didn’t stay down for long. You reached for his arm, trying to get him into the hold that Soap had just caught you in, but he was too quick. He rolled onto his back and grabbed your outstretched arm, giving it a yank.

You flew into the air, tumbling over him, before landing on your back on the other side.

“Fuck!” You cried, the air rushing out of your lungs.

Ghost got to his knees. You saw it and brought your feet up. He moved to straddle you, and you launched a kick as hard as you could, in the centre of his chest.

It worked. He staggered backwards, losing his balance. You pulled yourself into a squat, then stood up as fast you as could. By the time you were standing, he already halfway back up himself.

Once you were both back on your feet, he put his fists up once more, starting to circle you.

“I came to apologise.” He suddenly said.

It caught you off guard completely, and you turned to look at him, your mouth hanging open in shock.

He must’ve noticed because he made a jab, connecting a fist into your ribs. It hurt.

You cried out in pain, but put your fists back up. He was making a point by hitting you. No matter what he said, you couldn’t lose your defence.

“You want to… apologise? To me?” You asked, the uncertainty leaking into your voice. After a beat, Ghost nodded, solemnly.

“I lost my temper this morning.” He replied, still circling. “I shouldn’t have.” You had to keep turning your head to keep him in view. He struck out, trying to land another jab, but you were too quick this time. You dodged out of the way, ducking low to avoid his fist.

“Well, that’s okay, but… Price told me he wanted me to go in alone.” You said. You were confident that the statement was true, but not confident that it wouldn’t piss him off. As if right on cue, Ghost rolled his eyes, exasperated.

He kept circling you. You knew you had to win this fight with brains. You couldn’t win it with brawn. He was too big for that.

The next time he lunged for you, you grabbed his hand and yanked, sending him flying over your shoulder. He landed behind you with a crash. Someone from across the room whistled, appreciatively.

“Ah, shite!” Ghost grunted. You spun around to keep him in your eye line, but he was gone.

How?

You spun around again, desperately trying to find him.

Then, something hit your legs hard, causing you to fall flat on your face.

Pain blossomed out from your cheek, shoulder, and hands.

“Fuck!” You yelled.

“I know you got the job done, but I’m your commanding officer. Not the old man.” He said, his large form casting a shadow over you. “I don’t care if I didn’t say the word ‘wait’, you knew I thought it was dangerous.”

He grabbed you by the back of your collar and angrily dragged you backwards. It made your t-shirt wrap tightly around the front of your neck, cutting off your air supply. You made a frightened, strangled noise.

“You should’ve asked me.” He continued, raising his voice a little. “And I would’ve told you to wait.”

Ghost used your collar as a handle to drag you onto your back. He was standing over you, arms tightly folded, tapping one foot impatiently.

“Alright. I apologise too.” You grumbled, getting back to your feet. Ghost shook his head.

“An apology wouldn’t have been good enough if König seriously injured you. Or worse.” He curtly replied.

You rolled your eyes. He was being way too cautious.

“But he didn’t!” You protested, gesturing down to yourself, exasperatedly. His reaction this morning made sense, but to still be furious like this, hours later? That wasn’t normal. Ghost never usually held a grudge against you. Or anyone on the squad, for that matter.

He narrowed his eyes. The distaste and annoyance behind them was obvious.

“It would’ve been so easy for him. Look at you.” He remarked, coldly, gesturing to your smaller frame. You opened your mouth to protest, but Ghost moved faster.

He grabbed you by the throat and slammed you to the the ground.

Pain shot through your body, spreading out from your neck. The gym fell silent. It took a few seconds for people to start talking again.

The air rushed out of your lungs from the impact. You were left coughing and spluttering, as Ghost knelt over you, his hand still on your throat, choking you.

He leaned in close, his eyes boring into yours.

“Your body is soft, and small.” Ghost snarled. He glanced down at your figure as you kicked your legs and clawed at his hand around your neck. No matter how much you dug your nails in, he didn’t react. Like he didn’t even feel it. “He could’ve done anything he wanted to you. Why can’t you see that?”

“Ghost… stop…” You gurgled, gasping for air.

To your horror, you felt warmth spread over your cheeks. Were you... blushing?

Ghost stayed close, examining you carefully. When the hot flush crept over your face, something changed in his eyes. For a moment, the anger turned into intrigue.

“Interesting reaction.” He mumbled, a flicker of amusement in his expression.

You scowled at him, wrestling harder against his grasp.

“I don’t want you to talk to him without asking me first. Ever.” Ghost growled. “Is that clear?”

He tightened his grip on your neck. You made a strangled, breathy noise.

A noise that sounded far too much like a moan for your liking.

Ghost eyes lit up.

“Oh. What a cute little noise.” He murmured, quietly. It seemed to take him by surprise, and his grip loosened a little.

As soon as you were free you pulled away instantly, rolling over and getting to your feet. Embarrassment ignited like a fire inside you. What the fuck was he doing, showing you up like that?

You cast a nervous glance around the room. More than half the people in here were watching, a sea of curious and concerned eyes. The embarrassment turned into indignant rage.

“I’m a trained soldier. I was hired by Price for a reason.” You spat at Ghost, pointing a finger at him. “I can handle myself. I got the job done today.”

Ghost let out a low chuckle. His stance was wide, confident. He didn’t seem to care that he’d embarrassed you, not paying a moment’s notice to the other people in the room.

“You don’t look like you’re handling yourself very well right now.” He remarked, the amusement thick in his tone.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Gaz and Soap stood by the door to the men’s changing rooms. Both pairs of eyes were fixated on the two of you. Shit. It made the whole situation feel so much more humiliating, to know that he had managed to illicit such a reaction from you with the rest of your new squad stood right there.

Emotion washed over you, pooling in your gut. A lump formed in your throat as you turned back to glare at your commanding officer.

“I’m done with physical training for the day.” You said, trying to keep your voice flat, and even. The doors to the female changing rooms were so close, and yet so far away. “So, permission to be excused. Sir.”

For a second, something in Ghost’s expression darkened. He looked you up and down, taking in your whole body. It was an intense stare. You shrank underneath the spotlight of his attention, folding into yourself.

“You never answered me. I don’t want you talking to that Kortac bastard without asking me first. That clear?” He said, coldly.

You took a long breath. He was wrong about this. Price had cleared you to interrogate him alone, and Price outranked Ghost.

But Price wasn’t interrupting your training sessions to humiliate you in front of your squad. Ghost was.

And he was your commanding officer.

“Yes, sir.” You finally sighed. You kept your eyes on the floor, concerned that if you looked at him, he would see the disapproval in your expression.

“Alright, Private.” He nodded, seemingly satisfied. His gloved thumb pointed towards the women’s changing rooms. “Go.”

And with that, you stormed off. As you stomped away, you were sure to keep your head down. It felt like every eye in the room was following you as you went. The last thing you saw before you crashed through the changing room door was Soap and Gaz nearby, both fixing you with sympathetic stares.

Chapter Text

You checked your phone. The time was three minutes past six. Work was done for the day, and dinner was an hour away. At least today you’d managed to shower and change so fast after training that you could actually enjoy this time for yourself.

At the back of your mind, a little voice piped up and pointed out that you’d only managed to change so fast because of how angry Ghost had made you. You silenced it.

The quickest route from the gym back to your quarters took you past the corridor that housed most of the important offices on base. That included Ghost’s office, the office Laswell used when she was on base, and Price’s office.

The latter was the one that currently captured your attention. As you walked past, something made you stop. Ghost’s behaviour was still fresh in your mind, his words burned into your brain. Still recent enough to remember every detail. Still recent enough that what he did boiled your blood and flushed your cheeks with shame.

If you were ever going to talk to Price about it, there was no better time than now.

But surely, Price would tell Ghost - and Ghost would not be happy that you ratted him out to his boss.

But… Price was his boss. He might be the only person that could help you.

Making a quick decision, you turned to the right, and began walking down the corridor. You knew you were making the right decision, but your gut was still afraid of Ghost. It was a short, but surprisingly difficult journey. With each step, nausea grew inside you, lapping at your stomach in waves. The closer you got, the louder your worries got.

But you pressed on, passing a couple of armed soldiers that you didn’t recognise, and made your way to Price’s office. When you finally reached it, you knocked on the door, giving it two sharp raps.

For a moment, there was only silence. You checked your phone again, searching for the time. It was only five past six. You’d seen him stay in his office a lot later than this before, so it felt strange that he might not be here.

Then, as if answering your question, a voice called from beyond the door.

“Hello…?” The voice said.

Instantly, you pushed the door open and entered the room.

“Evening, captain.” You sighed, closing the door firmly shut behind you. “I just wanted to have a word with you about – “

You froze.

Price wasn’t at his desk. His chair was empty.

So, who…?

A glance to your left answered your question and stopped your heart for a moment.

There, sprawled out in the chair in front of Price’s desk, was the defector from Kortac. König.

Your jaw dropped. What were the chances? König was the last person you’d been expecting to see tonight. Not only was he not in his holding cell, but he wasn’t even wearing handcuffs anymore. He rested leisurely, with one elbow propped up on the arm of the chair. In his hand was a bundle of several sheets of paper, all stapled together. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to guess what it was.

“Oh! It’s you. Good evening, Private.” König spoke first, his voice coming quick and clipped. As he took in your presence, he drew his legs and arms inwards, his posture stiffening. Beneath his hood, his eyes were a little wide – but creased, as if he was smiling. You’d surprised him, but he wasn’t unhappy to see you. It felt like a stark contrast to the shocked, horrified expression that you were currently pulling.

“Um. Yeah. Evening.” You stammered, unsure of what to do. Ghost had just told you not to talk to this guy.

And here you were, barely half an hour later, alone in a room with him.

But you couldn’t focus on that. On the off chance that this guy was actually as dangerous as Ghost was making him out to be, you couldn’t afford to show weakness in front of him.

“Where’s Captain Price?” You asked, trying to feign nonchalance.

König put the papers down on the desk, before clasping his hands together in his lap. All the while, he kept watching you, his eyes flicking over your body cautiously. Like he was assessing whether or not you were a threat. Your chest tightened.

You had to actively resist the urge to nervously fold your arms.

“He’s not here.” König replied, after what felt like an age. “Your Captain has gone to verify my intel.”

He tapped a single finger on the papers. Now that he had put them down, you could read the words “Contract of Employment” written across the top. Just as you’d thought.

Ghost was not going to be happy.

“I see. Well, that… complicates things.” You murmured, trying to take in all of the information at once. Price wasn’t here. König was being offered a job. You’d already broken Ghost’s rule about talking to him. Ghost was going to be furious.

Ghost was going to be furious.

The thought rattled around your brain for a few minutes. Flashbacks of your sparring session played like a movie behind your eyes. Eventually, König hesitantly broke the silence.

“… Thank you, by the way.” His quiet voice brought you back into the room. A confused frown came to your face.

“For… what?” You asked, cautiously.

You were still hovering awkwardly by the door. Moving further into the room felt like asking for trouble. This massive machine of a man was trained to kill, and you didn’t have a gun on you. That meant that no matter how non-threatening he made himself appear, he was still potentially a threat. A tiny voice told you that Ghost would be proud of those thoughts. You tried to ignore it.

König’s eyes creased into a careful smile once more. He leaned forwards, with an expression that almost seemed playful.

“You said nice things about me to Price.” He said. After a moment, he gestured to the contract. “You got me a job.”

“Oh.” You mumbled. Well, that was probably going to top the list of reasons that Ghost was angry at you at the moment. Though, something about his smile eased your nerves ever so slightly. “Uh, you’re welcome, I guess. All I did was tell the truth.”

König gave you a little shrug, as if he didn’t know what to say.

“Well, I appreciate it.” He said, seemingly ignoring how you tried to downplay your involvement.

Suddenly, his attention flicked downwards, lower than your face. His expression dropped. For a second, you thought he might be staring at your chest, but then he spoke.

“What happened to you?” He asked, softly.

You frowned. What was he talking about?

“Your neck.” König clarified. He got to his feet.

Your jaw dropped.

Holy fucking shit he was tall.

He towered over you as he rose to full height, his head only inches away from the ceiling. All thoughts about his question vanished from your mind. You’d never seen anyone this tall in real life, ever. You had to crane your neck upwards just to look at his eyes.

But there was no time to process this, because as soon as he was stood up, he swept over to you, trapping you between his massive frame and the door. The spike of nervousness that shot through you was mixed with a tinge of adrenaline. Was there a part of you that was scared of König? Sure, but it certainly wasn’t all of you. Other parts of you felt… differently about König. It was… thrilling.

He reached out a hand and gently touched your neck. It stung. Ghost’s glove had rubbed the skin raw. You flinched involuntarily.

“Sorry.” He murmured, retracting his hand instantly at the first twinge of pain on your face. You shook your head, a small blush creeping across your cheeks. It hadn’t crossed your mind that Ghost’s ‘assault’ may have left a mark. Or that said mark might make people ask questions.

Questions you didn’t want to answer.

“It’s fine. I just had an… incident, whilst sparring.” You replied, deliberately trying to keep your explanation vague. His physical size had made you forget about anything else for a few moments.

But now that he was asking about it, you didn’t know what to say. It had only just happened. There hadn’t been enough time to know how you felt about it yet, let alone voice any feelings. Especially with this man that you barely knew.

König frowned. His hand was still hovering near your neck. He extended his fingers, hovering over the part of your throat that Ghost had squeezed. His hand was shockingly big. If he gripped down, it would completely envelop your throat. You swallowed, hard, making sure to keep your eyes on him.

“There’s red mark on your neck. It looks like the imprint of a… hand?” He continued. His attention on you was intense.

“It’s nothing, really.” You tried to assure him. “My sparring partner just… got a little too enthusiastic about the fight.”

König retracted his hand, folding his arms. He fixed you with a scrutinising stare. It made you a little nervous.

“Did this sparring partner… choke you?” He asked, softly.

Finally, you looked away. Frustration was bubbling and boiling in your gut. Why wouldn’t he let it go? He didn’t even know you. You were just some rookie that had one conversation with him.

And yet here he was, stood so close, gazing down at you intently. His eyes had an alertness to them, like he was studying your every reaction.

“It’s fine, honestly.” You lied.

“It doesn’t look fine. It looks painful.”

Your hand was clenched tightly around the door handle, behind your back. He was so close that your chin nearly grazed on the front of his tactical gear. Even if you tried to open the door right now, you would have to move him out of the way to open it.

And it didn’t feel like that was a fight you had a good of winning whilst you were unarmed.

Alarm bells were ringing in your mind. Ghost would not want you to even be in here, let alone tell König about anything he had done, or said. He made a point of making that very clear to you.

“I can handle pain. I’m a soldier.” You finally said, deflecting his question.

König let out a sigh.

“So you are.” He murmured.

As you stayed silent and tried to figure out what to do, König made a move first. He took a step back, allowing you some breathing room. It took a weight off your chest.

“I’ll get him back at some point, I’m sure.” You said, trying to slowly change the subject. “Hand to hand combat isn’t exactly my specialty.”

König raised an eyebrow at your use of the word ‘him’, but he didn’t say anything about it. Instead, his eyes travelling up and down your body again. It made you feel exposed, somehow.

“That doesn’t surprise me.” He remarked, the amusement clear as day in his voice. He was watching your face once more, taking in your expression. “What is your speciality?”

“I’m a sniper.” You replied. Instinctively, you straightened up a little, pushing your shoulders back confidently.

A look of warmth passed over König’s eyes. It wasn’t an expression you’d seen him pull before. Something about it felt… endearing.

“Ah, a sniper.” He repeated. “Very good.”

Silence fell between you as the conversation lulled. The sound of Price’s ticking clock penetrated the air, as if trying to send you a message. You’d been in here a while.

“Alright.” You said, clapping your hands together. It was time to leave, before somebody caught you in here and ratted you out to Ghost. “Well, if Price isn’t here, then…”

“Of course.” König waved a hand, moving back to his seat. It groaned and creaked as he rested his weight on it. His eyes wandered over to the contract, and then back to you. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

You swallowed hard, before nodding. Ghost’s order to avoid him was going to be a lot harder to obey if König was joining the squad.

“Yeah.” You sighed. “I’ll see you around.”

With that, you turned around and left, pausing only to nod at the armed guards at the end of the corridor.

Chapter Text

The heavy scent of roasted beef and rich gravy wafted through the air of the mess hall. It was an intoxicating, mouth-watering smell, reeling you in with the promise of a full belly and a satisfied palate. A very welcome thought, after an hour of nervous pacing in your room. The mess hall itself was buzzing with energy, a cacophony of excitable voices chattering and laughing. The noise bounced off the stark white walls, echoing around the high ceiling.

By the time you had grabbed a tray and gotten in the queue, your stomach was already rumbling. The long day of shot nerves and hard training had made you practically ravenous. You were definitely ready to tuck in. Just as your nose suspected, you were served a roast dinner – roast beef, to be exact.

After grabbing your food and a drink, you managed to get about three steps into the dining area of the mess hall before a voice called out to you.

“Hey! Private!” Soap’s voice rang out through the crowd. “Come sit down!”

You followed the sound of his voice to find Soap sat on an empty table, with Gaz. They both gave you a smile as you approached, which you returned. Your tray hit the table with a slap, as you placed it down and sat with them.

“Hey guys.” You beamed, grateful that you hadn’t ended up sitting with strangers. Not that that happened often, but occasionally it did. The mess hall was a big room.

“We were just talking about you.” Gaz said, as you sat down. You picked up your fork, ready to tuck in, and shot him a quizzical look.

“Yeah. Are you alright, after earlier?” Soap chimed in. The touch of seriousness in his tone made it clear that he was talking about what Ghost had done during training.

For a moment, you froze. Just like when König asked, you really didn’t want to talk about it. Not just because it was humiliating, but because you were well aware that anything you said in here might be overheard and relayed back to Ghost.

“Oh, I’m fine.” You lied, trying to stay cool. “I can handle a sparring session.”

Gaz and Soap exchanged a long, meaningful look. Then, Gaz turned back to you, his brows knitted into a concerned frown.

“He shouldn’t have done that.” Gaz said, keeping his voice low, and quiet. He stared at his plate for a second, pushing the half-eaten food around with his fork. You were already digging greedily into your meal, trying to avoid speaking by filling your mouth with the hot, delicious food in front of you.

“Yeah, Ghost was out of line, Private. We both saw him…” Soap cut in, but trailed off for a second. He cleared his throat.

“Well, we saw what happened.” He added. He was leant across the table towards you, his expression intense. His aversion to saying exactly what happened only made you feel more ashamed of it.

They both saw Ghost choke you. And they both heard the weird, breathy-moan sound you made.

Fuck.

Maybe the ground would open up and swallow you whole, casting you into the abyss instead of leaving you here, dealing with this conversation.

Unfortunately, it seemed unlikely.

“I know. It’s fine. Really.” You said, still trying to stuff your face with food to avoid engaging. Annoyingly, they stayed silent, waiting patiently for you to finish your mouthful and elaborate.

“I, uh… I pissed him off earlier.” You continued, trying to keep your statements vague. Price had said that the whole ‘König’ situation was classified, so you didn’t know how much they knew. “I think he was just… getting some of his anger out.”

Soap was already shaking his head, and rolling his eyes. He looked at you with intensity, a sorrowful expression playing over his face.

“That’s not an excuse. I don’t know what’s gotten into him.” He sighed. You looked down at your food, trying to avoid his attention. It was hard to know how to react. To have their sympathy was nice, but you just didn’t want to talk about it.

“Like I said,” You replied, swallowing the mouthful of food. “I’m honestly fine. It’s no big deal.”

Soap made a small noise, a dissatisfied grunt. Next to him, Gaz was putting his cutlery down, having finished his meal.

“He’s probably just tetchy cause of the new guy.” Gaz remarked, to Soap. After a second, he looked at you eagerly, curiosity in his eyes. “Did you hear about that?”

You grinned, rolling your eyes. So much for that information being classified. You knew you shouldn’t be surprised, though. Being largely cut off from the world, gossip spread around this place like wildfire.

“I didn’t know that you guys knew about that.” You chuckled. “That’s why I missed the morning training session. Price had me talk to him.”

“Oh, that was you!” Gaz gasped. After a second, he nodded, taking in the new information. “Price told us he’d had someone talk to him. He didn’t say it was you.”

Your smile turned into a bashful grin.

“Yeah. That was me.” You said, softly. Both of your squad mates were nodding now, and occasionally exchanging glances with each other.

“Well, good job, lass.” Soap smiled. “He’s a big guy. Scary as fuck when he’s running at you with a gun in his hands.”

“Well, luckily for me, he’d already been disarmed, and he was handcuffed to the table.” You admitted, putting another forkful of food into your mouth. It tasted so good, after you’d missed breakfast this morning.

“I can’t believe we’re getting another squad member so fast.” Gaz said. Soap chuckled, shaking his head in your direction.

“I’m not surprised. If Price is going to let you in, then clearly we’re accepting any old riffraff.” He jibed. Your eyes widened in shock at the sudden jovial attack, and you found yourself pouting at him, indignantly.

“Hey!” You cried, giggling slightly. “You take that back.”

Soap laughed a little harder at your annoyance, giving his thigh a hearty slap.

“Absolutely not. The look on your face is priceless, lass.” He chuckled. Gaz was laughing now too, holding his head in his hands. You dropped your fork to cross your arms tightly across your chest.

“Yeah, great, pick on the rookie.” You retorted, getting a little frustrated at their continued amusement.

“Oh aye, enjoy using that as an excuse whilst you still can. Once he’s joined us, you won’t be the new kid on the block anymore.” Soap said, wagging a finger at you.

You rolled your eyes, amused. He was trying to wind you up. It was working. Slightly.

“Whatever.” You sighed, shaking your head. The last of Soap’s chuckles slowly died in his throat, the low rumbling coming to a stop.

“It’s gonna be weird fighting alongside him after facing him in the field.” Gaz said, softly. Soap nodded in agreement.

“Aye. He definitely owes me a beer for the amount of times he’s nearly blasted my brains out.” Soap agreed. You raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe you owe him one, for the same thing.” You pointed out. Soap shot you a surprised glance, his lips curving back into a smile.

“… Maybe I do, private. Maybe I do.” He said, thoughtfully. After a short pause, he looked at Gaz, a conspiratorial expression on his face. “That sounds like a plan, eh?”

Gaz raised his eyebrows and nodded.

“For sure. I could spread the word.”

You frowned, glancing between them, unsure of what they were implying.

“What?” You asked. Soap grinned at you.

“We’re gonna organise a night out. Show him a proper 141 welcome to bury the hatchet.” He replied. “You in?”

At this, you smiled back at him, nodding enthusiastically.

“Hell yeah.” You said, eagerly. After the all the weirdness today, you were definitely down to let loose. Soap clapped his hands together, in delight.

“It’s all comin’ together. I’ll get a hold of the others, see who I can coax out.” He replied. After a moment, he turned to Gaz. “Hey, could you…”

Suddenly, a sight across the room drew your attention. You stopped paying attention to what Soap was saying, his Scottish voice fading into the background.

Ghost had entered the room.

He was nowhere near your table, still over by the entrance to the mess hall, but it stopped you in your tracks, nonetheless.

You watched him intently as he got into the queue for food, whilst checking the time on your phone. He was very late – only just in time to be served food at all. A part of you wondered what he’d been doing. A larger part of you told you that you probably didn’t want to know.

“Well, I think that if we say Friday, then…” Gaz’s voice floated towards you through the cacophony of conversation that filled the room. You weren’t focused on them anymore. All you could do was keep your eyes on Ghost, watching his every move.

He was still waiting in the queue. A couple of soldiers in front of him turned around to make conversation. He gave them a brief nod, but his attention seemed focused elsewhere. It was hard to tell with his mask covering most of his face, but it looked almost like he was glancing around the room.

Was he… looking for you?

Your pulse quickened slightly. It was certainly possible. He could be still angry from earlier, and looking to take revenge.

Could you hide under the table?

No, no. That was ridiculous. He was your commanding officer. You couldn’t start being afraid of him now, you were going to have to see him every day.

That thought made your breath hitch in your throat.

Then, fingers were in your face, snapping together. The sharp clicking sound cut through the crowd with ease, yanking your attention back to the current conversation.

“… you okay…? Hello?” Soap was saying, in a silly song-song voice. You blinked at him, feeling like a rabbit caught in the headlights.

“Sorry. Yeah. Back in the room.” You said, startled. Instantly, you were wracking your brain for a believable lie. “I was just… deep in thought.”

Gaz was chuckling now, rolling his eyes.

“Would’ve thought a sniper would have better focus than that.” He grinned. A smile of relief flew across your face as your realised they bought your lies. You passed it off as a sign that you were playing into his joke.

Your eyes flicked back to Ghost. Only for a second. He seemed far more interested in his conversation now, staring at the two soldiers talking to him with interest.

But you couldn’t let Soap and Gaz catch you looking at him, so you forced yourself to pay attention to the final few mouthfuls of your food. By now, it was getting a little lukewarm. That didn’t stop it being tasty, though.

“Maybe you’re just not very good at holding my focus.” You jibed, trying to keep the conversation lighthearted. Gaz laughed.

“Man, you’re spicy today.” He said, shaking his head.

“I’ve just had a long day.” You sighed. Gaz nodded.

Far behind him, you spotted Ghost. He was still talking intensely with the two soldiers in the queue ahead of him, now holding a tray of food. Then, his eyes wandered around the room once more. You shrunk a little, in your seat. Trying to make yourself smaller, and less visible.

“I guess you have. You sure you’re alright?” Soap asked. You took in a deep breath, and nodded.

“Yeah. Like I said earlier, I’m fine. Really.” You responded, lying once more.

They only just seemed to buy it. Their frames slumped, depressing slightly, revealing a sense of defeat between them. It was clear that they wanted to press further, but neither of them did.

Your eyes flicked back across the room. Ghost was walking now, still looking around. He hadn’t seemed to spot your table yet, but with Soap’s loud mouth around, you knew it was only a matter of time before he did.

Acting on instinct, you suddenly got to your feet, grabbing your empty plate. The cutlery rattled around. The noisy clattering sound made you slightly nervous, like it might give you away, but it didn’t. You gave Soap and Gaz a brief nod.

“Anyway. Thanks for talking with me. I’m gonna head to bed.” You said, quickly. Before they could even respond, you were gone.

The mess hall had largely emptied out at this point. It was getting a little late, so most people had already finished their food and had headed back to their quarters. It meant that it was only going to be that much easier for Ghost to spot you, whilst you were walking rapidly through the rows of tables.

But you didn’t care. Careful to take a path around the room that took you far away from Ghost, you deposited your plate and tray, before heading straight for the door.

It had been a long day. All you wanted was to rest.

Your pace quickened. A single bead of sweat made its way down your back. Minutes ago, you were quenching your thirst with a pint of water, but now it felt like you hadn’t drink anything for days. All you needed was to leave the room without accidentally inducing a conversation. You reached the area where people deposited your trays and slapped yours down on a large pile of filthy crockery.

You kept moving, weaving around the last few tables. Your boots were making a rhythmic thunking across the linoleum. Finally, you reached the door.

You turned around, giving the room a final glance. The last thing you saw before you disappeared back to your quarters was Ghost, sat with Gaz and Soap at their table. He turned to them and seemed to say something. They both erupted in uproarious laughter.

Then, trying to clear your mind, you pushed the door open and left the mess hall, headed to bed.

Chapter Text

Before the knock woke you up, you were sleeping. Tossing and turning, wrestling with the sheets. No dreams, but instead just fitful, restless slumber that left you no more refreshed than when you went to bed.

But the sound of knuckles wrapping against your door drew you from unconsciousness. You woke with a start, eyes shooting open, staring at the ceiling. Your fight with the bedding had left you coated in a thin layer of cold sweat. The cold air of your quarters kissed your glistening skin, eliciting a shudder that ran down your spine.

Knock knock!

The noise came once more.

Whoever it was was growing impatient, and clearly not about to go away any time soon. The clock on your bedside table told you that it was 12:02. Just past midnight.

Who on Earth was at your door at this late hour?

And what could they possibly want?

The possibilities felt endless. Your mind raced with a million different scenarios. Good news didn’t usually come in the middle of the night – and especially not on an army base. Good news could wait till the morning. Bad news couldn’t.

You swung your legs over the bed, cringing when your bare feet touched the cold floor. They made a light slapping sound as you padded across the room. It didn’t feel worth it to put on any clothing to cover your pyjamas – whoever was at the door was just going to have to deal with looking at your old sweats and t-shirt. You cast it quickly from your mind as you stopped to look through the peephole.

Your heart skipped a beat.

It was Ghost.

He was dressed casually, black cargo pants tucked into leather boots, and a big black hoodie. The hood was drawn up over his head, his face covered by the skull balaclava he wore outside of combat. By now, so late in the day, most of his eye-black had rubbed off, the last of it creasing into the tired lines around his hazel eyes. For once you could actually see the colour of his eyebrows, the blonde hairs only just visible under the smears of black. It felt strange to have a better view of his face.

A better view of his scowl, more like. His expression could only be described as thunderous.

What did he want?

And why did he want it at midnight?

Your stomach churned. It could be a million different things. Breaths were starting to come thick and fast now, your chest rising and falling as your body cried out for more air. Your hand was clenched tightly around the door handle, knuckles turning white.

Ghost’s eyes flicked up to the peephole. As if he could see you watching him. You jumped back, instinctively.

Then, knowing there was no way out of this, you slowly opened the door and poked your head out.

“There you are.” He grumbled. His voice sounded haggard, and breathier than usual.

“Evening, sir. What’s going on?” You replied, still worried that he might be bringing bad news. At your question, he took a second to glance up and down the corridor.

Whatever it was, it didn’t look urgent. Ghost didn’t seem to have a single ounce of urgency in his whole body, the way he was nonchalantly against the wall, arms folded loosely over his chest.

“Can I come in?” He asked.

You bit your lip, considering the situation. Here was Ghost, outside your door late at night, asking to come in. You’d fantasised about this moment many, many times.

But in your fantasies, you never imagined that you would be this nervous.

Or that Ghost would have such a dark scowl.

“Sure.” You croaked, stepping aside and pushing open the door. He walked past you, striding confidently into your room without a word. Once inside, he nodded at the door.

“Shut it.” He ordered, firmly. “Don’t want the lads down the corridor listening in.”

“They’re probably asleep, at this time of night.” You mumbled. But Ghost didn’t seem to hear you – or didn’t respond, anyway, and you obediently closed the door. It sealed two of you in the space, cut off from the corridor that held the doors to the rooms of your squad mates, and the barracks for lower ranking soldiers down the hall.

Once it was closed, you turned around to face him. He was stood in the centre of your room, looking around. Taking it all in.

In truth, your room was a bit of a mess. Cleaning had really fallen off your radar recently. A mess by military standards, anyway. If it was a civilian bedroom it probably would’ve been considered nearly immaculate, but now that Ghost was looking at it all, there were definitely things left out that you wished you’d put away. For example, a couple of items of dirty laundry, which were strewn across the floor. The few personal items you’d been allowed to bring on base were flung messily atop your dresser, various items of jewellery tangled together in a heap. Thankfully, the low light of your bedside lamp meant that some of the mess was hidden away in the shadows. Not that that would make a difference to the man that spent his whole life in the shadows.

For a second, you stayed still, and silent. Waiting for Ghost to speak, to tell you what he was here for. But he didn’t. Instead, he kept glancing around, his eyes slowly moving from object to object. Like he was studying the place. It made you feel a little exposed.

“So, what’s up, sir?” You asked, trying to keep your voice even. It wobbled a little, regardless.

Ghost turned to look at you, finally. His eyes were cold. It sent a chill down your spine.

“Did you have a good chat with Price?” He retorted, gruffly.

You blinked; brows furrowed in confusion. The conversation with Price had happened hours ago, and he had already apologised for it. Why was he bringing it up again now?

“What, this morning?” You said, slowly. “Yeah, it was… fine. He told me I did a good job.”

Ghost rolled his eyes, and shook his head. He took a  step closer. It made your heart beat a little faster.

“No, not this morning.” He replied. Now that he was closer, you realised you could smell something familiar on him. A heavy, burnt smell.

Gunpowder.

Your blood ran cold. Another step backwards made you collide into the wall, your loose pyjama t-shirt doing little to protect you from the chilly concrete.

“I was talking about your visit to Price’s office. After training.” Ghost said.

You froze. Oh, shit.

How the fuck did he know about that? You hadn’t even told Soap and Gaz about it. You hadn’t told anybody. The only other person was…

No, you told yourself. That was a silly idea. Ghost wouldn’t speak to König, much less believe a word he said.

“Well?” Ghost suddenly asked. It almost made you jump, as your attention was yanked back into the room.

“Uh…” You stuttered, unable to find the words. Ghost took another step closer. He was only a couple of feet away now. Close enough to do some damage, if he wanted to. At any distance, he was dangerous. But this close? You wouldn’t be able to take a single step away if he didn’t let you.

He was watching you like a hawk. His cold, furious eyes didn’t leave yours for a second.

“I’ll ask you one more time.” He snarled, jabbing a finger at you. It was kind of strange to see his hands without gloves on. You tried not to look at them too much. “Did you or did you not have a good chat with Price?”

“I… I didn’t, no.” You stammered. It felt like your heart was in your mouth, anxiety gripping your insides like a vice.

He looked so furious. Like a wild animal barely contained by its leash. And worse still, you were backed up into the wall, his large frame standing between you and your only escape. He was the predator. You were the prey.

“And why is that?” Ghost asked. His voice was strained, terse, like he was only just keeping himself contained. Fists clenched, jaw flexing under his mask. Looked at him was like watching the water rise in a boiling pot. Waiting for the moment that it spilled over the edge.

You swallowed, hard. Were you really about tell to him the truth, and rat yourself out like that?

It seemed like he was leading you to the answer, though, and that implied that he already knew it. He was just toying with you, playing his game until you gave him the correct answer and earned your prize. Or, perhaps in this case, your punishment.

“Because Price wasn’t there.” You sighed.

“Oh, really?” He said, a hand covering his mouth, mockingly imitating surprise. “Then why were you in there for so long?”

You blinked in surprise once more.

“How do you know that?” You retorted, folding your arms. It was like Ghost didn’t even hear you. He moved closer, leaning in, looking over you. As he got near, smell of gunpowder got stronger. The acrid scent burnt your nose. As you looked up at him, the back of your head tapped the wall. There was nowhere left to go.

“I know everything.” He growled. “So you better cut the shite and spit it out.”

Seconds passed, in silence. Your brain scrambled for the right words, the right explanation.

“Unless you were in there because you were going through Price’s desk, in which case, as your commanding officer, I’ll have to report you, Private.” He added.

You let out a long, shaky sigh. The jig was up.

“It’s not my fault that König was in there.” You mumbled, quietly. “I was looking for Price.”

For a few seconds, all Ghost did was stare at you in cold silence. It was excruciating.

You opened your mouth to produce more feeble excuses, but he beat you to the punch.

“How long does it take to say, ‘oh, I’m sorry, wrong room?’” Ghost demanded, doing a mocking impression of your voice. “Does it really take eight and a half minutes?”

Your jaw dropped. How the fuck did he –

“Choose your next words carefully.” He said, darkly. “‘Cause you’re on thin fucking ice.”

“He started talking to me!” You replied, a little indignantly.

Ghost shook his head.

“Wrong answer.” He spat.

His hand grabbed your throat, pinning you back against the wall. Your eyes flew open in shock, fingers clawing at his iron grip on you.

But just like earlier, it did nothing.

Even despite his lack of gloves, which meant that now you could really scratch at him and dig your nails in, he stayed cold, emotionless. Blank. Like there was nothing behind his eyes. Nothing but a ghost.

He leaned in close, planting his other hand on the wall next to your head to steady himself. His eyes were full of fire and glaring right into yours. By now, his hand was cutting off your air supply, leaving you gasping for breath.

“You gave yourself away during training earlier. I think half the lads in the gym probably heard the sound you made.” He said, his voice dropping to a low rumble.

You coughed, still trying to take in a proper breath. It wasn’t easy. His grip was strong.

“I just didn’t think I’d be using this valuable information so soon.” He sneered, his eyes creasing into a cruel smile. Through the balaclava, even despite the low lighting, you could see his jaw clench.

“Stop!” You gurgled, growing increasingly desperate. “Please!”

He chuckled. It was an unfeeling, unforgiving sound.

“Or what?” Ghost asked. He looked down your body, and then slowly back up to meet your eyes. Under his leering gaze, you felt almost naked. “You gonna moan for me again? Like a little tart?”

Instantly, a hot blush was burning your cheeks, exposing your shame. An angry frown furrowed your brow as your shook your head at him adamantly.

“I… didn’t… moan.” You gasped. The lack of air was starting to make you feel lightheaded. Pretty soon, your blush wouldn’t even be visible anymore, as your face started to turn purple.

“No? You didn’t?” He goaded, faking confusion. “I hope not. That’s not very professional, is it?”

You stared at him, with pleading eyes. After a second of silence, he shook you, vigorously. It jostled your whole body.

“Is it?” He demanded.

“… No.” You replied, your voice extremely strained.

Ghost laughed.

“Neither is this, I suppose.” He mumbled, almost to himself. You kept your eyes on him, wide and unblinking. His own eyes were looking down again, taking in your body once more. “But you’ve pushed me to it. You’ve been a disobedient little brat all day.”

You frowned at his use of the word ‘brat’. Sometimes, you could be a brat. But today had not been one of those days. Today, all you had done was try and do as you were told. For once.

His grip tightened a little once more. A small part of you knew that you could wrestle with him, and try to escape, but your experience in training told you that that wasn’t a fight you could win – and no matter if you lost or won, you would only make him that much angrier by trying it.

“Ghost… please…” You gurgled, still clawing at his hand. The dizzy, lightheaded feeling was getting stronger.

At the sound of your pleading, Ghost’s attention snapped back up to your desperate, fearful face.

“I gave you an order!” He growled. His sudden change in tone almost made you jump. “A very bloody clear one.”

When you froze, he rolled his eyes.

“What did I tell you?” He demanded, releasing his grip ever so slightly. It gave you just enough air to speak.

“You told me… not to talk to König.” You replied. Your voice was getting steadily breathier from the adrenaline coursing through your system.

“Oh, so you did hear me say that.” He remarked, sarcastically. “Thought I might’ve said it to myself, the way you’ve been acting.”

“I’m… sorry.” You gasped, fixing him with the most regretful look you could muster. Under the circumstances, anyway.

Finally, a flicker of satisfaction passed across his eyes. He gave you one last squeeze, before dropping his hand and letting you go.

You doubled over instantly, placing your hands in your knees to support yourself as you coughed and spluttered. Breathing had never felt so good - even though it hurt. He’d left your throat feeling raw, so each gulp of sweet relief came with a tinge of pain.

“He’s dangerous.” Ghost snarled. “I’m trying to keep you safe.”

At this, you nodded. In reality, he could probably say a lot of things right now that you would agree with, if it meant that he would calm down and leave you alone. Even though, deep down, you knew you weren’t afraid of König in the way that Ghost wanted you to be. König hadn’t made any attempt to attack you today – or even disrespect you.

A hand was suddenly at your chin, yanking it upwards. Ghost was forcing you to look into his cold, dead eyes. Tears were welling up now, threatening to spill over onto your cheeks. When was he going to give you a fucking break?

“Are you listening?” He demanded.

All you could do was nod. He released your chin, shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket.

“Yes, sir.” You mumbled finally, rubbing your jaw tenderly. His grip on your throat had exacerbated the bruise he’d created earlier, creating a searing ring of fire around your neck. It felt like a collar of pain that you couldn’t take off.

“As your commanding officer, you’re my responsibility.” Ghost huffed, taking a step back. You kept resting your hands on your knees, staring shamefully at his boots. Looking into his eyes felt too… intense. It was just too much right now.

He placed a hand on your shoulder. The sudden contact made you jump. He didn’t seem to react to it. After a second, his fingers started slowly rubbing back and forth.

In any other situation, you would’ve loved this. For once, he was gentle. Gentle but firm, as he dug into the muscle of your shoulder, working out the knots that anxiety had made over the course of the day. In a way, however, it was more nerve wracking than when he was rough. When he was gentle, you had no idea what it meant. Or what he might do next. Your neck still burned.

“You’re just a soft little thing, Private. I worry about you.” He murmured. It sent a shiver down your spine. Suddenly, Ghost wasn’t the angry, enraged monster that had his hand around your throat just moments ago. Something in his eyes had changed.

He looked… concerned?

You didn’t say anything. In truth, it was because the whole conversation was giving you whiplash. How the fuck were you supposed to react to that? This wasn’t the Ghost you knew. This was… someone else.

His eyes kept watching you, thoughtfully. After a moment, you spotted his jaw clenching under his mask again. Something in his face hardened.

“I mean, I can beat you in a fight so easily.” He snarled, surprisingly vicious. “So could any member of the squad. So could König.” The last word came out as a guttural growl, as if he was disgusted with himself for even saying that name.

Suddenly, you folded your arms and stood up, leaning back against the wall. Your chest was still rising and falling rapidly, as you caught your breath. But you stood tall, glaring at him, chin up. No way were you going to just stand by and let him disrespect your skills like that.

“I put you on your ass a few times today, didn’t I?” You retorted. The annoyance leaked into your tone. You let it.

Ghost raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, you did. Then I made you whimper for me in front of the whole platoon.”

A hot flush burned across your cheeks once more, but you didn’t let it deter you. The second you showed weakness, he would exploit it.

“Give me a gun and I’ll shoot you between the eyes from across the base.”

“You won’t always be carrying a gun.”

“Lieutenant, seriously, I – ”

His grip on your shoulder suddenly tightened. You sucked in a sharp breath of air. After such an intense training session earlier, your body was still sore, still not fully recovered. Pain shot down your arm like a bolt of lightning. You let out a cry of anguish.

“This is not a debate.” He snarled. “This is an order. You are not allowed to be alone with him.”

“Okay, okay!” You squeaked, quickly. The pain made your voice come out desperate, and strangled. Weak.

Ghost released his grip. Your hand went to your sore shoulder, rubbing it gingerly.  He folded his arms.

“Do I make myself clear, Private?” He demanded.

You scowled at him, resentfully. His use of your rank made it clear that he was not speaking to you as Ghost, the guy on your squad - he was speaking to you as Lieutenant Ghost, your commanding officer.

When you didn’t respond, he sighed.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” He said, the irritation clear as day in his tone. “When I give you an order, you say, ‘yes sir’.”

You let out a long, defeated breath.

“Yes, sir.” You mumbled, quietly.

Ghost cupped a hand around his ear, leaning forwards.

“Didn’t quite catch that.” He smirked. “Louder.”

You scowled at him with the fury of a thousand suns.

“Yes, sir!” You repeated, raising your voice. The sound made you cringe. At this time of night, with no other background noise, your words sounded incredibly loud. They seemed to echo off the walls, bouncing around the confined space of your room. Nice and embarrassing.

At that, his eyes creased into a satisfied smile. It was the first time he’d smiled with real warmth all day.

And it had come from your humiliated submission.

“Good girl.” He purred. “That’s all I wanted.”

The words caught you off guard. Your felt your eyes twitch, desperate to fly open, but somehow you managed to contain yourself. Ghost was not a man that offered praise easily. Especially praise like… that.

But he didn’t seem to notice your reaction – or at the very least, if he did, he didn’t let on. Instead, Ghost made his way over to your door, stepping over a couple of items of discarded laundry as he did so.

You watched him go, a mixture of feelings twisting inside your gut. Primarily, it was relief. Partially, it was fear. The anxiety of whether or not you could obey his orders. The worries of what he might do if you couldn’t.

When Ghost reached your door, he stopped, turning around to lean against it. He fixed you with a meaningful look.

“You want to keep your job, don’t you, Private?” Ghost suddenly asked.

Your heart skipped a beat. What was he implying?

“Yes.” You quickly replied. Then, after a beat, you corrected yourself. “Yes, sir.”

Ghost nodded to himself, that same flicker of satisfaction burning in his eyes once more.

“Then I’m sure you’ll keep this conversation to yourself.” He said, pointedly. Then, he opened the door, casting you once last backwards glance. “I’ll see you at the briefing tomorrow morning.”

And with that, he was gone.

Chapter Text

Your dreams were wild and unsettled. Waking up felt like being hit by a train. It had taken a very long time to get back to sleep, after Ghost had left. Your mind had been awake for a long time, reliving everything that happened over and over again.

The reflection looking back at you in the bathroom mirror was a girl with dark rings under her eyes, and a darker ring around her neck. Ghost had exacerbated the bruise to the point that it was now a deep bluish-purple colour, stretching around the base of your throat – though luckily, when in uniform, it was covered completely by your shirt collar.

By the time you had done morning training, had breakfast, and headed to the briefing, you were already feeling tired – and it was only just past nine.

But at the very least, you were here. You had made it. Just before Price, actually, who had greeted you with a smile. Part of you thought about quickly pulling him aside to ask for a chat later, but that thought was interrupted by a bounding golden retriever of a man, bounding up to you and clapping a hand on your shoulder.

“Private!” Soap called, his loud voice rising above the other conversations in the room. “Didn’t see you at breakfast.”

No, he hadn’t. He hadn’t seen you at breakfast because he’d sat on a table with Ghost and Gaz, and you’d sat in the corner by yourself. Thinking. Worrying. Overthinking.

“Oh, yeah, I was… late to breakfast.” You lied, quickly. An awkward hand went to the back of your neck, scratching it self-consciously. Luckily, he didn’t seem to pick up on your mood.

“Thought you might’ve been skiving off again.” He jibed, a twinkle in his eye. He nudged your elbow with his, playfully. You rolled your eyes.

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Ah, Private. A good soldier uses all the ammunition he has available.”

You shook your head, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. At least, despite what happened last night, Soap was still Soap.

He led you to a few empty chairs in the front row. Gaz was already there, talking with a couple of other soldiers in the platoon. Their voices added to the low rumble of noise that was echoing around the briefing room. One of them was a girl that you were pretty sure Gaz had a crush on. She was laughing with him, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

“Come on, lass.” Soap said, offering you the middle of three empty chairs. You took it, gratefully, as he plonked himself down between you and Gaz. “Come sit with me, and 141’s resident bad boy.”

Gaz turned his head, raising an eyebrow.

“What was that?”

Soap laughed, shaking his head.

“Mind your bloody business.” He quipped, giving him a jovial frown.

For a moment, Gaz stayed exactly where he was, staring suspiciously at Soap. His eyes were narrowed into slits, panning between the two of you for answers. It was hard to keep a straight face.

But then, the girl he had been talking to tapped his arm, and he relented.

“… Fine.” He grumbled, before turning back around.

Soap leaned in again, a hand back over his mouth.

“When I said ‘bad boy’…” He paused for a second, glancing to make sure Gaz wasn’t looking. He looked back at you, mirth in his eyes. “I didn’t mean he’s sexy, he’s just really bad at trying to pull, and he’s a bo – ”

“I heard that.” Gaz cut back in, snapping around to glare at Soap. The girl next to him was giggling, and trying to hide it by covering her mouth... Soap waved a hand, nonchalantly.

“You heard nothing.” He breezily replied, giving you a cheeky side eye. The whole thing was too much to handle, this easily in the morning. It was all you could do not to roll your eyes.

“Alright!” Price suddenly called, from the front of the room. The hum of conversation came to a halt. “Everyone settle down, let’s get started.”

He was pacing in front of a large screen, the 141 and SpecGru logos plastered across it. The briefing room was like a small cinema, with rows of seats sitting in darkness. Ghost was stood off to one side, partially obscured by shadow.

You’d been careful to avoid him. You had absolutely no desire to talk to him. He hadn’t even looked at you yet.

The memories from last night were still coming back to you every so often, filling your mind with the feeling of Ghost’s hand around your throat, of the burning shame when he forced you to verbally submit to him. Every time you closed your eyes, he was there, staring down at you, with those dark, hungry eyes. Nervousness had taken up residence in your gut, leaving you with an ever-present nausea.

But you had to push it all down. To try and act normal. He was still your commanding officer. You were still going to have to interact with him in public.

Price glanced at the screen, producing a small device from his pocket and pressing a button. The display finally changed, showing a map. A map of the base, and the general area surrounding it.

Then, he clapped his hands together, and took a step forward. Silence fell, as every eye in the room focused on him.

“Things are changing around here. Normal operations are being put on hold. Your commanding officers will be able to provide more specific details on what that means for ongoing missions and assignments.” He began.

“Some of you know this already, and some of you may have heard about it.” He continued. “But the truth is, Task Force 141, and therefore by association, SpecGru, are gaining a new member.”

A chorus of hushed whispers started up. Some of them were voices of curiosity. Most of them were of disapproval. But largely, it seemed that everyone had already heard the highly classified information about the big scary defector from Kortac.

It wasn’t like stuff like this happened every day, after all.

“Okay, okay.” Price called, waving his hand to try and calm the room down. The muttering stopped. Mostly.

He made his way over to the door, stopping just next to it.

“I thought I’d let him introduce himself.” Price announced. After a second, he opened the door a crack, staring through it to the corridor beyond. He said something, seemingly speaking to someone just outside the door. Even though you were in the front row, some of the closest seats in the house, it still wasn’t near enough to make out any of the words spoken.

But it didn’t matter what he said, because after a second he pushed the door open and stopped back.

There was a pause.

Then, ducking slightly to fit through the doorway, came König.

A couple of gasps sounded from somewhere behind you. There was no hushed conversation now. The air was deathly quiet. Price walked back to his previous position at the front of the room, with König in tow behind him. The larger man seemed to command so much attention, and yet, he didn’t rise to it at all. His eyes seemed to stay fixed on Price’s back as they walked, not daring to look at the crowd watching his every move.

They reached the centre of the space, standing in front of the screen.

More silence.

After a second, you spotted Price’s elbow nudge König in the ribs.

The Austrian took a step forwards, finally looking out across the room. Behind his sniper hood, his eyes were flicking around rapidly, moving from person to person.

“Good morning.” He said, slowly. He let out a small sigh. “I know we have had our differences in the past. They are behind us now. I will prove that you can trust me.”

It was strange to see him like this. He seemed… stiff. Like his limbs were glued together. It was a far cry from the relaxed, confident way he had sprawled out in Price’s chair when you spoke to him yesterday. The words that came out his mouth sound rehearsed, as if he was reading from a script. Part of you wondered if that was simply nervousness, or the added difficulty of introducing himself in his second language. His accent lilted over the words, making it clearer than ever that he was different. An outsider.

But, as quickly as he commanded the room’s attention, he rejected it once more.

“That is all.” He said, glancing backwards at Price. The Captain nodded, giving König a small smile.

“Thank you, König. Why don’t you have a seat?” He asked. His eyes scanned the room.

There was only one empty seat left.

To your horror, and yet to no surprise at all, Captain Price gestured to the vacant seat next to you.

Instantly, your eyes went to the corner of the room, glancing over at Ghost. Your breath hitched in your throat as you realised that he was already looking at you. When König came over and sat beside you, he seemed to bristle slightly, flexing the muscles in his shoulders.

“Well, hello, Private.” König whispered, as he settled into the chair. His arms draped over the arm rests, encroaching on your space slightly. You made sure to draw your arms in, folding them tightly across your chest to avoid any accidental contact. It felt like Ghost’s eyes were burning holes into your skin.

“Hi.” You whispered, giving him a little nod. His eyes creased into a smile. The warmth radiating from his expression made you look away, staring at your hands. If you looked at him for a second longer, you would reciprocate and smile back.

And the ache currently radiating from your neck was a persistent reminder of why that was a bad idea.

Price continued speaking as König left the spotlight, completely unaware of the situation he had put you in.

“König’s intel leads us to believe that KorTac are planning a full-frontal assault on the base, as well as infiltrating ahead of time to plant explosives in key locations.” He explained. The screen highlighted a couple of points on the map in white squares, showing the areas KorTac wanted to bomb. One of them wasn’t very far from your quarters. Another was placed right next to the gym, aiming at taking out a server room nearby. It was a daunting thought.

“We can’t start preventative measures until we know the intel is good.” Price said, his eyes sweeping across the room. “But once we have our confirmation, new assignments will be handed out by your commanding officers. This includes extra patrols, and different kinds of training.”

You tried to focus on what Price was saying, and not the giant sitting just inches away. New assignments meant more work and less sleep. That was objectively bad news.

And yet, it still seemed like nothing in comparison to Ghost’s warning, last night.

König leaned over to you, cupping a hand over the space on his mask where his mouth probably was.

“Fancy seeing you here.” He whispered, quietly. You resisted the urge to smile, glancing anxiously over to Ghost. He was watching Price talk in depth about the different squad’s new patrol routes. Your eyes wandered back to König.

“You made quite an entrance.” You replied, under your breath. Next to you, König was shaking his head.

“That was the captain’s idea.” He sighed. “Not really my style.”

A tiny chuckle escaped you. That much was obvious. Sure, he’d managed to get his point across, but he didn’t exactly look comfortable doing it. Though, you considered, trying to convince a room full of suspicious soldiers that you were no longer their enemy was not something you would know how to handle, either.

“He didn’t make me do that.” You responded, a wry smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“Yeah.” Soap suddenly cut in, mirth in his eyes. “‘Cause no one gave a shite about you joining, lass.”

You shot Soap an indignant side eye.

“Fuck you!” You whispered back, haughtily folding your arms.

“… that’s why I’m telling you this. But as I said, we will need concrete confirmation that this intel is good.” Price was saying. Your attention flicked back to him as the map zoomed in, focusing on a highlighted area. It was in a small forest, located just outside the local town. Around an hour long walk from the base’s location.

“That’s why I’m sending Ghost, along with König, to this location to check the supposed weapons cache.” Price continued.

You gulped, suppressing a laugh. Ghost and König, on a mission together? That was bound to spell trouble. You thanked your lucky stars that you didn’t have to be there to see it. They were going to be at each other’s throats the entire time. What a nightmare pairing.

“As I said, once we have confirmation, then you will receive a full list of your new assignments.” The screen behind Price returned to the two logos, Task Force 141 and Specgru, as he spoke. “Alright. Thanks everyone.”

It was a clear signal that the briefing was coming to an end. Around the room, a cacophony of noise started up as people began to gather their things, get up, and talk to each other. You stood up too, mentally checking your timetable. After the briefing, you had a session in the gun range to get to. It was halfway across the base, and you didn’t have much time to make your way over.

Before you left, you looked around, hoping to say something to König – but as you did, you were surprised to see Captain Price walking over. He caught your eye instantly, giving you a little wave.

“There you are. Listen, Private, I wanted to ask you a favour.” He said, giving you a little smile. His words filled you with nerves. The last time he’d sought you out for a task, he’d turned your world upside down.

“What’s up, sir?” You asked, trying to keep your voice breezy and nonchalant.

“I want you to join Ghost and König, on their mission later.” Price replied. Your heart sunk.

Looks like you were going to be around to see them at each other’s throats, after all.

Slowly, you nodded.

“Alright, sir.” You said, letting out a little sigh.

“You know König best. I was hoping you could keep an eye on them for me, make sure they get along.” He explained.

You had to fight the urge to groan in dismay. How long were you going to keep getting caught in the middle of them like this? You couldn’t even keep the peace when it was just you and Ghost, never mind adding König into the mix. If Ghost was mad, you knew you didn’t have a hope in hell of holding him back.

He had made that quite obvious last night.

But you didn’t argue. You didn’t say a word. Ghost was right – you wanted to keep your job. Damn him.

“I’ll do my best, sir.” You nodded. Price clapped a hand on your shoulder.

“Thank you, Private. Knew I could count on you.”

He checked his watch.

“You better run along. You’ll need to be ready to leave at around 1300 hours, but I’m sure Ghost will send the details to you before then.”

You nodded, silently accepting your fate. Part of you wanted to ask another question, but by the time you opened your mouth, Price had already turned around and started a conversation with Gaz.

So, that was it, then. You were stuck on babysitting duty.

“Private!” A voice called. It was Soap. He was staring at you, arms folded tightly into his armpits, rocking back and forth eagerly on his heels. “You and I have a date with the gun range.”

You nodded, letting out a sigh. König was gone. Price was wrapped up in his conversation with Gaz. Ghost was…

Ghost was nowhere to be seen. Great.

“Alright.” You said, letting Soap lead you out of the briefing room. “Let’s do this.”

Chapter Text

The air inside the armoury was still, and quiet. You relished in it, enjoying it whilst you could. Knowing the mission ahead, it was probably the last moment of peace you were going to get for a while.

Pistol, check. Knife, check. Rifle, check.

You tightened the last strap on your body armour. All in all, having everything on was pretty heavy. Most of the time, coming back from a mission or a patrol felt like you were coming back from a tough workout at the gym. It took that much effort to lug it all around with you. A small part of you envied the larger, more muscular bodies of your squad mates. They probably had no problems carrying it.

But the physical toll of being in full gear was nothing in comparison to the mental toll that being on a mission with only Ghost and König was going to be. A sinking feeling was festering in your gut, like an ever-present warning of impending doom.

One last look in the mirror. The top of the bruise on your throat was peeping out just above your jacket collar. You zipped it up a little higher, covering it. People seeing it would only make them want to ask questions – question that you didn’t want to answer. You didn’t know half the answers yourself.

It only took two steps out of the armoury before a voice called out to you.

“Oi, slowpoke!” Ghost called. His voice was slightly more gruff than usual. “You done or what?”

The sudden noise caught you off guard. You turned to spot Ghost and König, waiting for you by the door to the car park. Ghost was eyeing you up, his arms tightly folded. Behind him, König seemed much more relaxed, leaning nonchalantly against the frame. One of his hands was reaching upwards to grab the top of the doorframe.

It was so close, so easily within his grasp. Even if you jumped, you’d have to reach right up touch it.

Fuck, he was tall.

“I’m ready, I’m ready.” You quickly replied, averting your eyes from König’s hulking frame.

“Let’s go.” Ghost said, reaching behind König to open the door. The second he did, the sound of pouring rain outside filled the corridor.

It was absolutely pissing it down out there. Great.

Neither man reacted to the rain, striding confidently out to the car park. You scurried along behind them, yanking the hood of your jacket up. The rain was coming down in buckets, bouncing off the tarmac and flowing like a river towards the nearest drain. Your boots splashed in puddles as you followed them to the armoured vehicles that were usually taken out for local missions. Ghost got into the driver’s seat. König got into the back.

For a second, you froze, completely undecided as to where in the car you should sit. But, after a moment of standing there, Ghost rolled with window down, glaring at you.

“Are you taking a bloody shower out there?” He demanded, waving a hand at you. “Get in!”

Obediently, you walked around the car and got in the passenger’s side door. Part of you had wanted to stay away from Ghost and get in the back, but after König ended up sitting next to you in the briefing, you didn’t want to risk antagonising him any further.

The sound of the rain turned from harsh, sharp splattering to a low rumble on the roof as you got into the vehicle. Ghost started up the engine and started pulling out of the parking space before you’d even gotten your seat belt on.

The journey out of the base took place in silence. The only words spoken was the brief conversation that Ghost had with the guard at the gate. It made for a tense atmosphere.

Finally, once you were out on a winding country road, someone finally spoke.

“So, as the briefing said, our target is a cache of weapons, not too far from here.” König began, quietly. Next to you, Ghost rolled his eyes silently. “This shouldn’t take long.”

“I know. Mags, explosives, and tactical gear. I wrote the damn thing.” Ghost retorted, gruffly. Never mind the sheets of raining lashing the sides of the car, Ghost looked like he had his own personal storm cloud above his head. His eyes were fixed on the road, but you could tell from the way that he was gripping the steering wheel that he wasn’t happy.

“I wonder if there’s any snacks in there.” You murmured, trying to lighten the mood. Ghost scoffed.

“You had a late lunch. That was only an hour ago.” He remarked. “You can’t be hungry again already.”

Your brows creased into an incredulous frown. You hadn’t seen Ghost all day, and you’d eaten alone. There was no reasonable way for him to know that. Just like last night, you found yourself asking how the fuck he knew.

Ghost was still fixated on the road, driving as if what he said was perfectly normal. You turned to question him, but König spoke before you could get a word out.

“There’s some MREs and water.” König admitted. “Nothing exciting.”

Well, that was that, then. You settled back into your seat, silence falling over the vehicle once more. Upon reflection, there was a time and a place to ask Ghost those things – but, you thought to yourself, in front of König was probably not the time or place.

The vehicle eventually reached the end of the winding country road, taking a route that led through the town. Though it was Friday, and therefore a day in which the locals were usually at the market, the weather had left the streets desolate. That was good for the mission - less prying eyes. Despite the torrential downpour, Ghost smoothly manoeuvred the vehicle through the town and out to the woods on the opposite side. You were nearly there.

Finally, Ghost pulled into a side road, drove for a few hundred meters, and then parked the vehicle just off the road. As the engine sputtered to a stop, everyone began patting themselves down. In weather like this, no one wanted to forget something and have to come back here to fetch it.

You watched the rain running down the windshield, with a heavy sense of trepidation. May as well enjoy being warm and dry now. The second that rain touched you, it was going to make you very cold and damp.

“It’s really pissing it down.” You sighed. Next to you, Ghost chuckled slightly.

“Afraid of getting wet, Private?” He asked. The double entendre made your stomach flutter, for a moment. You pulled yourself together and shot him a pointed look.

“It’s going to be freezing.” You replied.

A hand suddenly clapped onto your shoulder from behind. It was König, who was now unstrapped from his seatbelt and leaning forwards, between the two of you.

“Then we better be quick.” He said, opening the door of the vehicle. The sound of rain increased tenfold within seconds, muffling the sound of his voice. “Leave the navigation to me!”

With that, he jumped out, shutting the door behind him. For a moment, Ghost stayed sat, glaring out to the dismal forest ahead.

“Already know where I’m going.” He grumbled, before following suit and getting out.

You were the last to go. The car was the last bit of warm, dry safety you were going to get for a while. Relishing in it was irresistible.

But the second Ghost got out, he walked around to your side of the vehicle and yanked the door open.

“Bloody hell. Am I going to have to hold your hand all mission?” He demanded, exasperatedly. “Come on.”

You stifled a catty response, and reluctantly got out. Your boots sank into the soft, wet mud on the ground, almost instantly caked in a layer of filth. The trees provided a little shelter from the rain, but not enough. Not enough for you to not instantly feel cold, and damp.

You pulled your hood up a little further, hoping that at the very least, you could protect your face from being splashed too much. König was already striding confidently away from the vehicle, headed straight into the thicket of trees ahead. This time, Ghost actually waited for you to start following him before he made a move.

“Bravo-Actual, come in.” Ghost said, his voice both behind you and plugged straight into your ear, through the radio.

It didn’t take long for Price’s reply.

“This is Bravo-Actual. Hearing you loud and clear, Bravo 0-7.”

“I’ve reached the infil with Bravo 7-2 and 7-3. Headed to target location on foot.”

“Rog’.”

The crackle of the radio died. You were on your own once more.

And so, the three of you began trudging through the forest. It was a tough walk. The weather meant that every step was unstable, and slippery. You had to keep your eyes peeled for roots and stumps sticking out the ground, because tripping up now would mean getting absolutely coated in muck. Ahead of you, König seemed to have absolutely no problem navigating through the shrubbery, his long strides allowing him to easily step over anything underfoot.

Nobody spoke. For a start, it was clear that no one particularly felt like making conversation, but the larger problem was the weather. The howling gusts of wind and thunderous rain were making too much noise for you to really hear anything else.

Eventually, König stopped. Once you reached him, it quickly became apparent as to why. He was standing at the base of a steep hill, hands on his hips, looking up.

The rain was running in rivers down the slope, taking huge climbs of thick sludgy mud down with it. There were little to no bushes on it, which meant that there were no roots in the soil to hold it together, and nothing steady to stand on underfoot.

“Well, shit.” You said, as you came to stop next to him. “This is gonna suck.”

“You can say that again.” König chuckled, folding his arms. He took a cursory step onto the base of the slope. His foot slid instantly, nearly causing him to lose his balance.

“Walk up the side.” Ghost’s voice floated to you from behind. When he reached the two of you, he gestured to a thin grassy verge that bordered the mud-slide. “If we don’t go up this hill, it’s a long fuckin’ way around it.”

König went first. He placed his feet carefully on the grassy verge, his boots chewing it up underfoot. But, he made slow, careful progress. Once he was about halfway up, a hand was at your back, gently pushing you forwards.

“Rain’s only gonna get worse.” Ghost called, over a howling gust of wind.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself, before beginning the climb.

It was difficult. König’s boots had already dug into the ground, dislodging a lot of the grass that you needed to use as a foothold. In the end, you had to practically crawl up, keeping your centre of gravity low just to keep yourself from falling over.

But you kept putting one foot in front of the other, determine not to show yourself up. To stumble and end up rolling down this hill would mean getting absolutely coated in mud. The last thing you needed was to be any wetter and colder than you were already.

“Nearly there!” König’s voice called, from above you. It was only just audible over screaming gusts of wind that threatened to blow you over. The sound was akin to an angry, yowling tomcat.

You glanced up to spot König just reaching the peak. He grabbed onto a tree branch as he reached the crest of the slope, his boots causing a small avalanche of sludge. You were still only halfway up.

A few more steps. The rain was getting heavier somehow, causing the ground to become more unstable as you carried on. Carrying such a heavy load made it even more difficult to stay on your feet, as the slightest lean made the weight impossible to manage.

Only a couple of steps from the top now. You placed your foot down on what you thought was a small shrub. It was only a pile of twigs – not attached to the ground.

You slipped.

The weight you were carrying took control of your body instantly, dragging you down.

The ground came hurtling up towards you.

You braced for impact - and for the long slide that was about to follow.

But then, a hand grabbed your arm, keeping you from falling. You quickly adjusted your footing, gaining balance once more, before looking up.

König had caught you just in time. He was still holding on to the tree branch above his head, using it as an anchor so that he could lean down to reach you. Thank god for his size. Without it, he wouldn’t have been able to come anywhere close.

He was staring at you, a wry smirk creasing the corners of his eyes.

“Careful, Soldatin!” He said, still keeping a firm grip on you. His eyes wandered over your shoulder, looking down the slope. “You don’t want to fall down there.”

As he helped you reach the top of the slope by carefully pulling to to safety, you silently noted that he’d spoken in German. He’d only spoken in English so far, so it was strange to hear how naturally the language came out of his mouth. Though, it made sense, of course, given his heritage.

You’d learnt a little German in school. Enough to understand a few words, but certainly not enough to have a whole conversation. You were careful not to point it out, and not to let him know that you understood. That could be useful later. All he’d done was call you a soldier. That wasn’t worth revealing the depth of your understanding yet.

“Thank you.” You smiled at him, as he pulled you to the top. He had found a grassy, bush covered area that had plenty of grip underfoot. From here, you could finally turn around and watch Ghost struggle his way up the hill.

Only, you couldn’t do that. Because he wasn’t.

He hadn’t even started climbing yet. You watched him, still at the base of the slope, as he repeatedly tried to start walking up. He would plant a foot down, try to put his weight on it, slip, recover, and then start the whole process again. Yours and König’s footsteps had ruined the grass verge, making it just as muddy and slippery as the rest of the mudslide that made down most of the hill. As if to add insult to injury, the rain had increased slightly, making the river of water and sludge running down towards Ghost even more powerful.

After a few more seconds of him trying and failing to find a foothold, you heard the crackle of a radio signal.

“Bloody hell. It’s way too slick to climb.” Ghost’s voice came through your headset, the poor signal making him a little hard to hear. You turned on your microphone, watching him take a couple of steps backwards, far below you.

“Can you not walk up the grass?” You asked, sheepishly. Because of the weather, you couldn’t know for certain, but you were pretty sure that Ghost was shaking his head.

“What fucking grass?” He retorted.

You glanced at the hill again. He wasn’t wrong. To your side, König tapped a button on his headset.

“There’s a way around.” He said, his voice a lot clearer than Ghost’s. “Go to your left and then – ”

“I know!” Ghost cut him off, raising his voice in frustration. “I know where to go. We’ll have to rendezvous at the cache.”

“Copy that.” König replied.

After a second, your radio crackled to life once more.

“Bravo 7-2. Come in.”

That was your callsign. You tapped a button on your headset, looking down the slope. Ghost was stood under a tree, arms folded, looking up. Straight up at you.

“Good copy, lieutenant.” You replied, unable to tear your eyes away from him. “What’s up?”

“Be careful. Be safe. Stay in touch.”

“Roger that, sir. On the move.”

“I mean it, Private.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing that Ghost couldn’t see it. But König did. Something in his demeanour lit up in curiosity, making him lean eager towards you, cocking his head to the side.

“I said I got that, Ghost. Copy.” You replied, tersely. After a second, you tore your gaze away, turning towards the trees behind you. “I’ll call if something happens. Over and out.”

With that, you reached up and put your microphone on mute. He was coddling you. You didn’t need it, and you certainly didn’t want him to do in front of König. This was the first time he’d seen you in action, and it didn’t make for a very good impression of your abilities.

One last look back allowed you to catch sight of Ghost, making his way back into the tree line, disappearing from view. He didn’t reply on the radio.

Which you had been hoping for, because every word out of his mouth today had only served to antagonise you. But at the same time, it felt… ominous. You’d never cut him off that angrily before. Since he gave you no reaction, you didn’t know how he felt about it.

But there was a time and a place for worrying, and on a mission wasn’t one of them. The rest of the forest lay ahead, a painting of drab trees, sheets of rain, and a coating of slick filth on all of it.

With Ghost left behind, that just left you and König.

Alone.

Again.

You began walking in tandem, making your way to the cache.

Chapter Text

For a few steps, the two of you walked in silence. You were still process everything that was happening. The rain, the muddy hill, leaving Ghost behind, Ghost’s radio message…

You felt yourself bristling, just thinking about it. How he’d given you extra instructions. The way he didn’t believe your first confirmation. Having to repeat yourself, just to get him to believe in your ability to keep yourself safe. It was creating an angry whirlwind of thoughts inside your mind.

Thankfully, it didn’t take König long to start speaking, which distracted you nicely.

“Does he do that often?” König asked. You glanced over at him, to see that he was watching you, intently.

“Do what?” You retorted. He seemed to think for a second.

“Underestimate you.” König said, softly.

A wash of different emotions ran through you.

The more you spoke to König, the more apparent it became that though he was quiet, he was always watching. Observing. Analysing. It was surprising that he would notice something like that with so little evidence.

But at the same time, you instantly felt nervous. Ghost wouldn’t want you to talk about him with König.

It took you a few moments to think of something to tell him.

“He’s just… he‘s just looking out for me, I guess.” You replied, ducking under a low branch.

To your left, König let out a small hum. It was a quiet, thoughtful sound. You turned to look at him, eyeing him up suspiciously.

“What?” You inquired, cautiously. König shook his head, as he stepped over a small tree stump.

“I think I can guess who made that mark on your neck yesterday.” He answered.

You gulped, hard, your hand instantly going to your throat, where the bruise was hidden away. A quick check of your collar reassured you that your jacket was still zipped up far enough to cover it. If König was still concerned enough to mention it, then it was clear that you definitely shouldn’t let him see how much worse it was now.

“My neck is fine.” You lied.

König didn’t reply. The two of you kept asking along in silence, for a few moments. Paranoid about what he might be thinking, you couldn’t stop stealing sly glances at him. He didn’t look at you once, instead keeping his chin up and watching the path ahead.

“You’re wearing a high collar today.” He said, eventually. Your eyebrows shot up.

“Look at this rain.” You protested, eagerly. “Of course I’m covered up.”

The trees started thinning out, slightly. It looked like there was a small clearing ahead. König was slowing his pace now, watching the ground closer as he took each step.

“We’re nearly there.” He suddenly said, changing the subject. You welcomed it, gladly. The less time spent dodging his prying questions, the better. “Watch your step. KorTac like their traps.”

You nodded, analysing the ground ahead for trip wires, or lasers. König was placing each foot carefully, branches and twigs snapping underfoot as he did so.

“KorTac places traps around their caches? What if they end up blowing up one of their own operators?” You asked, brows furrowed in concern. König shrugged, uncaring, nonchalant.

“Then they weren’t a very good operator.” He replied, simply. His use of the past tense sent a shiver down your spine.

KorTac were really willing to risk the lives of their own team so casually? It felt so… ruthless. Part of you wondered what other cutthroat practices they taught their staff.

You glanced at the huge man leading you blindly into the middle of nowhere.

Maybe Ghost’s warnings weren’t so crazy after all.

“Nearly at the cache.” König’s voice crackled through the radio. You held your breath, waiting for Ghost’s reply.

It took a few seconds. A few nail-biting seconds. But then, cutting through the radio silence, came a voice.

“Copy.” Ghost responded. “Not far away myself.”

You kept walking. The two of you had reached the clearing now. It was relatively small, and due to the lack of trees sheltering the ground from the weather the whole area was practically a swamp. The mud had turned into a bog, the rain creating thick pools of brown sludge underfoot. Once you were both nearing the centre of the area König stopped, glancing around.

“We’re not going to have to dig through this, are we?” You asked him, pitifully. He let out a low chuckle.

“I’ll do all the work.” He replied, pulling a foldable shovel from his pack. “You just stand there and keep watch, kleines Fräulein sniper.”

You frowned. He’d called you ‘little miss sniper’. The way he’d muttered it under his breath led you to believe that he didn’t intend for you to hear it, much less understand it.

But you did. Once again, you were careful to hide that fact.

He was judging you for your size. That much was obvious. But, you supposed, how could a man that large not see your comparative size as a weakness? Ghost did too, and he was a good few inches shorter.

You tried to let the comment roll off your back, and instead watched König as he walked up to a nearby tree. Once he reached its base, he squatted down, looking underneath one of the roots.

“It’s this one. This won’t take long.” He said. Then, you heard the unmistakable sound of a shovel breaking through the earth. He sure didn’t waste any time.

Without anything else to do, you did as you were told. You cast your eyes out to the treeline, keeping an avid watch on the area. Not that you were expecting any trouble, but it didn’t hurt to stay vigilant.

A large rock covered part of your view. Knowing that it was an obvious tool for an enemy to use as cover, you decided to walk a few steps to the right in order to see behind –

BOOM!

Impact. Explosion. A rush of air. The feeling of flying.

Ringing in your ears. The tops of the trees, hurtling across your vision. Then, the ground, flying upwards for a wet embrace.

A splash. After being thrown several feet through the air, you landed face first in the mud, your foot twisted awkwardly beneath you. Pain shot up your leg like a roaring flame. Mud and rainwater coated your face, your hair, your hands. Your neck ached, from moving it too sharply.

“Scheiße!” König yelled. His boots were making wet splashing sounds, getting closer each second. Then, you felt his hands on your shoulders, pulling you up. “Geht es dir gut? Are you broken? Oh, scheiße, bitte sei tot nicht…”

He was panicking, the alarm clear as day in his voice. His hands were gripping you now, shaking slightly. His hold felt rigid, firm. Stiff. Now that he was agitated, his accent was much stronger, and the German was coming thick and fast. He was swearing, asking if you were alright, pleading for you not to be dead…

“I’m okay.” You gasped, rubbing your dirty face with your jacket sleeve. The mud had already soaked into your clothes, leaving you colder and wetter than ever before.

The second you spoke, something in him softened, and his grip on you loosened.

“Oh, Gott sei Dank.” He sighed. After a second, he finally seemed to calm, and he corrected himself. “I mean, thank god.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, I’m alright.” You said, your breath still coming out in sharp gasps. “I didn’t step on it directly. I stepped on a branch that touched it.”

“Anti-personnel mines.” König nodded. “If you’d have put your foot on it, you wouldn’t have a foot anymore.”

You shook your head, solemnly.

“Let’s not think about that.” You replied, quickly.

The mud was soaking into your military fatigues. From foot to knee, your legs were completely sodden. Staying on the floor was only going to make the problem worse. Pain was still shooting up your left leg. You put your right foot underneath you, resting your weight on it.

But when you tried to put your left leg underneath you, the ankle buckled. Jolts of pain shot through it.

“Fuck!” You winced, sucking air through your teeth.

König was at your side again instantly, placing a supportive arm around your shoulder. You leant into him, grateful for the stability. His large body provided some much-needed warmth. Something about it made your stomach flutter.

“Woah there.” He said, softly, as he caught you. He slowly started leading you over to the base of the tree. There was a root just next to where he’d been digging that stuck out of the ground enough to not be coated in filth. He set you down on it, ever so gently.

Then, he squatted in front of you, his eyes full of concern.

“You are broken.” He tutted. “You’ve hurt your… foot? Ankle?”

“Ankle.” You groaned, holding the offending limb in your hand. It was throbbing, pulsing with jolts of pain with every thumping heartbeat.

“Let me take a look.” König said, softly. “You don’t become a colonel without doing some medical training.” He pulled his pack off his back, rifling through it. After a second, his hands were coming out with bandages, pills, and other medical supplies. The rain was soaking everything.

“It’s fine!” You insisted, watching all of his stuff get wet. “Let’s just get the job done and get out of here.”

König shook his head, his brows tightly furrowed behind his sniper hood. He regarded you with a meaningful glare.

“How many times are you going to tell me you’re fine, when you’re not?” He retorted.

You swallowed, guilt twisting your insides. He had a point.

“You don’t want to talk about your neck, or about Ghost? Fine.” He said, firmly. “But if this isn’t treated, you’ll make it worse. Then you’ll be out of the field. Do you want that?”

“No.” You sighed, defeatedly. König nodded, satisfied.

“So, will you let me take a look at it?” He asked.

Finally, you relented.

“Okay.” You said, pulling up your trouser leg. Carefully, so as to not to put too much pressure on your ankle as you did. “Go for it.”

Once he had your permission, yanked his gloves off, his hands going straight to your swollen left ankle. His fingers were freezing cold, but gentle, as he slowly started feeling around the injured area.

“Tell me where it hurts.” He murmured, as he gently squeezed up and down. It made the pain flare up once more, the flames of discomfort licking your calves.

“There.” You winced. König nodded, and moved his hands lower.

“Sprained ankle.” He noted, before his fingers started moving towards your boot.

“I think my foot is fine.” You replied, softly.

König kept working away anyway, unlacing your boot to take it and your sock off. Your injured ankle was on display now, the skin an angry red colour. It was definitely a little swollen. Every movement he made was soft and careful, like he was feeling the petals of a delicate flower.

“Your poor ankle. It’s so inflamed.” He whispered, as his fingers brushed over the tops of your foot. It didn’t hurt at all. Tickled a little? Sure. But no pain.

“Yeah, just as I thought. My foot is fine.” You said, speaking more to yourself, than to the giant man currently cradling your leg. His affectionate tone was endearing, but you still didn’t trust him enough to take it at face value. Ghost had infected your brain with idle worry.

König’s eyes creased into a small smile as he looked back up at your face. It seemed so… warm. You averted your gaze, unsure of how to feel about it.

Then, as you looked away, you heard him rustle through his pack. After a second, you felt him wrapping something firmly around your ankle. A quick glance back down at what he was doing told you that he was bandaging you up. Once he finished, he slipped your sock back on for you, and then your boot. Every touch was precise, and delicate. It was surprising that a man so large could be so… soft.

You didn’t comment on it. Unsure of how to, even. But you still let him do it. Without a single hint of a complaint.

“You just sit there, and I’ll finish digging up the cache. Ok?” He said, placing a hand on your thigh. It felt like jolts of electricity splayed outwards from his touch, the contact making your body feel electric and alive.

“Uh… yeah. Sure.” You stammered, your breath catching in your throat slightly. It was an obvious display of your flustered and conflicting emotions, but thankfully, if König noticed, he didn’t seem to react.

“I’m nearly done anyway. This is light work.” He responded, starting to dig once more.

You watched him do it. When he started, the cache was already sticking out of the ground. It was a medium-sized green crate, made out of some kind of metal. Unsurprisingly, it was completely unmarked. It only took him a few minutes to dislodge enough of the dirt around it to lift the cache straight out of the ground. It came free with a wet shlick.

König’s hand went to his headset. Your radio sparked to life.

“Cache retrieved. Waiting on your arrival.” König said, through comms. After a second, the radio crackled once again.

“Copy. Less than a klick away.” Ghost’s voice came through your headphones. It was startling to hear him again, after what felt like forever. Since a klick was the equivalent of a kilometre, he would be here in less than ten minutes. Knowing how fast Ghost could move when he wanted to, it was likely it would be a lot less than ten minutes.

You glanced down at your ankle. He’d told you to be careful. You’d stepped on a mine and hurt yourself.

A shiver ran down your spine. He was going to be furious.

Adrenaline shot through your veins, making your blood pump through your body. It wasn’t an option to stay sat here, feeling sorry for yourself. If the rest of this mission was going to be tolerable in any way at all, then you were going to have to suck it up and pretend to be alright. The combination of pain, nervousness, and freezing cold mud and rainwater all over your body was causing a violent shiver to take hold, making your teeth chatter.

König was still knelt over the cache, but his attention was focused on the treeline. Presumably, waiting for Ghost.

You tried to stand. It went well at first, as you firmly planted your right leg – your good leg – underneath you. But when you put your left leg down, trying to put weight on it, your body protested with a wave of pain, and you crumpled.

König’s reactions were lightning fast. The second you started to fall, you caught his attention. His head whipped around, and he jumped up, catching you before you could land in the mud again.

“Shit.” You said, startled. It was a little embarrassing to have fallen, but that wasn’t exactly your concern.

Your main concern was König’s hands, which were currently wrapped around your waist. It was keeping you steady, but it was also keeping you close. Close enough for your bodies to be pressed together. It made you feel… strange.

“Careful!” He warned, alarm clear in his tone. “You shouldn’t put weight on it yet.”

You bit your lip, taking in a deep breath. Steadying yourself for another attempt. You couldn’t stay here, wrapped up in König’s arms. Especially not if ghost was going to be back soon.

You glanced up at the König, to find that he was already gazing down at you. Something in his eyes was… different. He looked nervous, as if he was meeting you for the first time all over again.

“Private.” He said, softly, his hands still holding your waist. “I want you to know, I – ”

“OI!” A harsh, Mancunian voice stopped you both dead in your tracks. The two of you suddenly whipped your heads around.

Ghost had reached the clearing.

Shit.

“What the fuck is going on?” He demanded, his voice coming through both the radio and through the air, amplifying every word.

“Nothing!” You squeaked. You wanted to leap away from König, but taking a step meant giving away your injury. In the end, settling for leaning pointedly away from him was your only real option. König didn’t loosen his grip.

The entire time Ghost made his way over, he didn’t take his eyes off you. The closer he got, the better you could see them behind his mask. Part of you wished that you couldn’t. They were terrifying.

“What a load of shite.” He snarled, as he finally reached the two of you. His fists were clenched, he shoulders tense. “What are you doing?”

König still didn’t let go. You leaned further away from his grasp, looking behind you. The root you’d been sat on was just there. If you could just sit back down on it, then maybe Ghost wouldn’t realise that you’d hurt yourself.

“She needs my help to – “ König began, but you cut him off before he could finish.

“ – Get my bearings!” You cut in. “Just, uh, getting my bearings.”

“Get your hands off her.” Ghost growled at König. The taller man glanced between the two of you for a second, before letting out a loud sigh and letting go, stepping away from you.

Ghost rushed towards you instantly, closing the distance between you in a second. The sudden movement was startling, and on instinct, you tried to step backwards.

With your bad leg.

Pain stabbed your ankle. The muscles in your leg gave way, desperate to ease the weight. You crumpled and fell, landing back on the root that you’d been sat on a minute ago.

“Ah, fuck!” You winced. Your teeth were gritted tightly together, your brows furrowed in a tight frown.

For a moment, the only sound was the rain, still pelting down on the three of you. All eyes were on you, as you tried desperately to hide your wince of agony.

Then, Ghost turned to König, the flames of fury ignited in his eyes.

“You… you let her get hurt?!” He bellowed, stomping towards him.

König held his hands up, a gesture of innocence. “There was a minor explosion, but nothing is broken.”

“An explosion?” Ghost demanded.

“The rain must’ve moved the mines around.” König protested, staying surprisingly calm. Most people saw that skull mask charging towards them and shied away. Not König. He stood strong, defiant, staring the shorter man down.

“Real fuckin’ convenient, that.” Ghost remarked. He was clearly not convinced. All König did was shrug.

“I checked out the injury. Treated it, as best I could. Now, I’ll help her walk back to the vehicle.” König stated. His tone was all matter-of-fact, no emotion at all. Ghost was shaking his head before he even finished speaking.

“Like hell you will.” Ghost huffed. “I’ll take her back. You will stay here and re-bury the cache.”

He glanced at the cache. It was tucked under a root at the base of the tree, only just sheltered from the rain. You reached for it, pulling open the lid slightly. Inside it was exactly as König had claimed – mags, explosives, and tactical gear. All with the KorTac logo plastered all over them.

“It’s all here.” You mumbled, trying to diffuse the tension by changing the subject. It didn’t really work. To your right, König rolled his eyes, leaning against the tree. Neither man was looking at you. They were staring at each other like two angry dogs, held back by short leashes.

“Does that not prove my loyalty? Do you really not trust me, still?” König asked. There was a slightly exasperated edge to his voice. Ghost chuckled. It was not a warm sound.

“The list of people I trust is short.” He said. Then, finally, he looked back down at you. His eyes swept over your frame, his brows furrowing slightly.

Then, after a second, he bent down and scooped you up into his arms in a bridal carry. One arm under your legs, one arm supporting your back. The position practically forced you to rest your head against his chest. It felt incredibly intimate. Too intimate.

“Ghost!” You squeaked, wriggling a little in protest. “I can walk. Just help me balance.”

“This is faster.” He replied. Your commanding officer didn’t even look at you, instead swinging back around to face König. The force of the spin made you grab onto him for stability. His grip on you tightened as you did it. Just a little.

“Bury it, then get to the evac point. We’ll be waiting.” He said to König. The man in question was already squatted low, aiming the shovel at the ground. Once again, not wasting any time. You supposed that the torrential rain was probably a pretty good motivator.

Ghost’s hold on you was making you feel bothered, and hot. Even despite how cold the air was. His arms felt so solid around you, like unmovable tree trunks. The smug, gloating remarks he made last night came floating back to you. How he could beat you in a fight so easily. How König could, too.

You really didn’t want to stay cradled against him like this.

“Seriously, let me go. Please, sir.” You pleaded, looking at him. He rolled his eyes, before finally looking down at you. It was the glare of a man who had already been pushed to his limit. A lump formed in your throat.

“Argue one more time.” He growled. “See what happens.”

Something in his voice was animalistic, guttural. The image of a dog tugging on its leash sprang back into mind. You shut your mouth.

“As for you.” Ghost said, turning to König. The other man looked up from what he was doing, his eyes fixated on Ghost’s hold on you. He didn’t look impressed. “You’re lucky she’s still in one piece. Your first mission with a member of 141 and you let her get hurt by your mines? Not a good look.”

König folded his arms, indignantly.

“They’re not my mines.” He protested, coldly. “They’re KorTac’s.”

Ghost shrugged, the movement bouncing you up and down. Once more, you had to grasp into him tightly for support. It made your ankle bang against Ghost’s side. Fresh pain blossomed from the point of impact. Ghost didn’t seem to notice your little cry of anguish. König visibly winced.

“What’s the difference?” Ghost asked, flatly.

At this, König stood up, dropping the shovel on the ground. He folded his arms, fixing Ghost with an indignant glare.

“The difference is that one of those things is trying to kill you. The other is trying to help.” König said, his voice strained, terse. It was slightly shocking. This was the time you’d seen him get angry. Ghost, however, seemed unbothered.

“We don’t need your fucking help.” He huffed. He took a step towards König, jostling you around again as he did so. After a second, he glanced down at you and added, “Look at what your ‘help’ did.”

König took a step forwards. The two men were barely three feet apart, scowling at each other with the fire of a thousand suns.

No one spoke.

Then, König’s shoulders slumped.

“I gave up my freedom, my rank, my command. I could’ve gone anywhere. Any outfit would have taken me in.” He said, his voice returning to the same calm tone as usual. “But I came here. To warn you. To tell you their plans.”

“And now we have those plans.” Ghost said, his voice flat, unemotional. “So what use are you?”

König was shaking his head, tilting his face up to look at the dark grey sky. It took a long time for him to look back down again. Seconds passed. They felt more like minutes. The silence was excruciating to sit through.

“Ask your captain.” König said, giving Ghost a confident shrug. His arms were tightly folded, hands tucked into his armpits.

“He seems to value my input quite highly.” He continued, gesturing to himself, and then the cache.

It was a clear message. König wasn’t going to back down and let Ghost walk all over him like every other rookie did. The two men were like rutting stags with interlocked horns, both standing firmly, glaring at each other. The sound of your heartbeat was pounding in your ears, rising above the noise of the storm. Should you say something?

Would they even listen?

In the end, Ghost turned away, swinging you around with him. You leant your head back to look over Ghost’s shoulder at König, who was bending down to pick the shovel back up.

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” Ghost grumbled, under his breath. Quiet enough that there was no way König would have any hope of hearing it. He was muttering it to himself.

He headed towards the treeline. König was out of sight now, but you could still hear the sharp, wet shlicks of his shovel being shoved into the mud. As Ghost started to walk away, the sound seemed to get faster. Like König was speeding up.

But soon enough, the cacophony of the surrounding storm was too great to hear him working any longer. That meant the only comfort you had was the sound of Ghost’s footsteps, boots squelching in the mud. That, and the sound of your own nervous breaths. Each step he took jostled you slightly. His grip kept you held tightly against him, your head forcibly cradled against his chest. His tactical gear was a little scratchy to lean against, but you weren’t exactly in a position to complain. Every so often, his eyes would flick down, glancing at you. It was difficult to know what to make of it.

Once the pair of you were far enough away to be completely out of earshot, Ghost finally addressed you.

“You alright, Private?” He asked. Though his body was stiff and tense, his voice was the opposite. Soft, and quiet.

For a long while, all you could do was glare at him, in silence. Then, after a second, you reached up to the collar of your jacket to unbutton it, holding it open to reveal the bruise he’d made.

“You tell me.” You replied, sarcastically.

Ghost stopped walking for a second, staring down at your neck. His eyes were… wide. Shocked. It was a sight you’d never seen before.

“That… what I did?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. You gulped, and nodded, still staring daggers in his direction.

A moment passed.

“Put your arms around my neck.” He ordered. You frowned at him.

“What?”

“Just do it.”

You obliged him reluctantly, interlocking your hands behind his neck. Slowly, but surely, he took his hand off your back to run a thumb over the bruise. It caused a jolt of pain that made you wince. He yanked his hand away. It was a long time before he spoke. Ten seconds felt like ten years.

“Guess I don’t know my own strength.” He mumbled. After a beat, he placed his hand on your back once more and started walking again, eyes fixated on the path ahead. You took your hands off his neck, wringing your fingers together anxiously.

Between you was silence. Inside your mind was a cacophony of voices, fearful and angry and loud. Most prevalent was the clear realisation that you probably weren’t going to get an apology right now. Not from a man like Ghost. Not when he was still so… tense.

But did he feel remorse? Could he empathise with you? Was there a real person behind the mask he always hid behind?

“I just don’t trust him.” He finally said, his voice flat. Devoid of any feeling at all.

But you kept scrutinising him, watching the way he was carefully avoiding looking at you. Before this, he’d been glancing every few minutes. Now they were still, fixated on a point ahead that you couldn’t see.

“Do you not trust me, to take care of myself?” You asked, surprising yourself with the amount of anger in your tone.

Ghost looked sharply down at you. His brows were frowning, but somehow, he didn’t look angry. His eyes flicked over to your injured ankle. He seemed to be thinking about something, but whatever it was, he didn’t vocalise it. Then, as if nothing had happened at all, he focused on the path ahead once more.

He was going in a different direction to the one you and König had come from. Presumably, it was to avoid walking down that dreadful hill again. With your ankle in this state, the only option would be a messy mudslide down.

As he made his way through the forest, he would occasionally adjust his grip on you. It meant his hands were constantly moving over your back and legs, preventing you from getting used to his touch. You’d never been this close to him for this long before. It felt… strange. Strange in a way that you weren’t emotionally prepared enough to process yet.

“Fuckin’ KorTac git.” Ghost suddenly grumbled. Your eyes snapped up to his. He was staring straight ahead, a heavy scowl still darkening his features.

For a second, it wasn’t clear how you shouldn’t respond. Should you tell the truth, and defend König, by telling Ghost it was your fault? Or should avoid his wrath and throw König under the bus?

“I’m the one that nearly stepped on an anti-personnel mine, sir.” You eventually said, quiet as a mouse. Ghost huffed.

“He drew us a map of those mines.” Ghost replied, shaking his head. “Knew exactly where they were. He should’ve warned you.”

He took a few more steps. You finally tore your eyes away from your commanding officer, to stare out to the forest ahead. Being carried meant that you weren’t doing any exercise to keep yourself warm. Without it, the freezing cold rain and mud that was soaked into your fatigued was starting to leech onto your skin, sucking all the warmth out of your extremities.

Did König let you get hurt? Would he do that? It felt… unlikely.

And yet, not impossible. His blasé reaction to a fellow operator getting blown up was still present in your mind.

You felt yourself shivering. In the end, you had to reluctantly snuggle against Ghost, desperate to steal some of his body heat. The sky was starting to get dark. The sun would go down soon.

“Maybe the rain really did move the mines around.” You offered, your teeth chattering.

Upon hearing your teeth chattering, Ghost rubbed his hands back and forth on your body, the friction providing some much-needed warmth. It was a surprisingly attentive move.

“Maybe next time he gives you back to me broken, he’ll live to tell the tale.” Ghost snarled. “But I doubt it.”

Despite the warmth that Ghost’s hands were providing, your blood ran cold. He sounded deadly serious. You wanted to argue, to point out that finding the cache meant that he could be trusted, but you didn’t.

Instead, you stayed silent, letting Ghost continue to carry you in silence. Never mind the weather outside – there was a storm brewing between the two men, and it was starting to feel like you might be powerless to stop it.

Chapter Text

The rain was still hammering down when Ghost finally reached the evac vehicle, still carrying you in his arms. It was a welcome relief to finally recognise your surroundings, and to have a warm, dry environment within sight. By now, the rain had soaked you so thoroughly that you were shivering constantly, your whole body shaking. The sound of your teeth chattering permeated the air, rising only just above the sound of the torrential downpour.

“We’re back.” You breathed, the relief heavy in your voice, as Ghost walked up to the passenger side of the vehicle.

“Open the door.” He commanded, coming to a stop.

You leaned away from his body, careful not to let your ankle get jostled too much, and stretched your arm out. As soon as you tugged the door open, Ghost unceremoniously dumped you into the seat and slammed the door. The few seconds of solitude before he got into the driver’s side seat were bliss. Without the looming presence of your stern commanding officer, you had a precious few seconds to relax, take a few breaths, and collect yourself.

But, as soon as he was in the vehicle with you, your body was tense once more. It was obvious he was still mad from how quiet he was being. At the best of times, Ghost was a stoic figure in the background of any conversation, but this was something else. He had barely said a word for the entire walk back.

Not that you’d tried too hard to coax a chat out of him, however.

And so, the both of you sat in the car, staring out into the increasingly darkening treeline in silence. Well, silence except for the rain thundering on the roof, and the sound of your teeth chattering. The cold felt like it was leeching into your bones, chilling you to the core.

After a while, Ghost stole a glance at you. It was hard to ignore, but you did your best not to react. Experience had taught you that rising to him would only make you look like a fool.

A few seconds passed, and he glanced at you again. It was the briefest of looks, like his eyes were burned by the sight of you. In such a distraction-free environment, it felt like a glaring light shining in your direction.

After the third glance, he spoke at last.

“You should get out of those clothes.” He remarked, folding his arms.

Your jaw hung open in shock.

“What?”

“They’re soaked. That’s why you’re shivering.”

He was still taking little glances at you, never looking for too long. For a second, you froze. What on Earth were you supposed to say in response to that?

“I think I’ll be a lot colder in my underwear, sir.”

Ghost’s eyes were fully fixated on you now, wandering over your body. You were suddenly acutely aware of how remote this area was. There was nothing around for miles, except trees and bushes. No one to see you sat in the car in your underwear. No one… except Ghost.

But the problem was, he was right. You were still freezing, and it was because nearly every inch of your skin was coated in sopping wet fabric.

“It’s protocol.” Ghost said, folding his arms. The fabric of his tactical gear rubbed together, flicking droplets of water onto the centre console. “You’re soaked in rainwater and now you’re sitting in it, shivering away. D’you wanna get hypothermia?”

You paused for a second, your eyes wandering over Ghost’s frame. It wasn’t like he was bone dry. After the debacle with the failed hill climb, he looked just as wet and muddy as you did. There was a dark ring of damp fabric around his neck where the rainwater had run inside his collar, seeping down his T-shirt.

“I’m not the only one in wet clothes.” You remarked, looking pointedly down at his sodden gear, and the small pool of water gathering in the footwell around his boots.

Something in Ghost’s eyes lit up for a second. He seemed to regard you with renewed curiosity, a smirk creasing the corners of his eyes.

“If you want to see me naked, Private, all you have to do is ask.” He quipped, cocking his head.

Your eyes flew open, betraying the shock that ran through your body.

“That’s not what I meant!” You squeaked, turning your head away sharply. “I mean, ideally, no one will take their clothes off.”

More seconds passed. The sound of your teeth chattering pierced the silence in the car. You rubbed your hands over your arms, trying to muster up any heat in them at all. It did very little.

Then, another sound drifted through the air. The rustle of fabric. You turned sharply to see Ghost, unbuckling the shoulder straps of his tactical vest.

“What… what are you doing?” You asked, completely dumbfounded. Ghost didn’t look at you, his focus still trained on taking the vest off.

“Making sure you don’t freeze to death.” Ghost answered, gruffly. He pulled the vest over his head, discarding it gently in the footwell behind him, before he began to unzip his jacket. “Now, Private, please.”

His eyes finally flicked back to you, wandering from your face down to your shivering frame. He didn’t look angry, or smug, or amused anymore. He looked…

Concerned?

“Just take your kit off.” He said. His voice was soft, and quiet. And yet, it was still just as firm as any other time he gave you an order. It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a command.

Without waiting for a response from you, Ghost unzipped his jacket and peeled it off. He had to lean forwards in his seat in order to gain enough room to yank it off his arms. The rain had made the fabric taut, soaked against his skin. Rippling arm muscle bulged underneath. It was… distracting.

You turned your attention to your own wet clothing. Just like Ghost, your tac vest came off first. Though your cold, numb fingers struggled with the buckles at first, once you got it off it was a weight off your chest. Literally. Lifting it up to dump it into the footwell behind you took a surprising amount of effort.

You were just about to start working in your jacket, your hand on your zip, when something caught your attention. A bright sliver of white at the edge of your vision.

Flesh.

Ghost had finished peeling his jacket off, leaving him in only a t-shirt. It occurred to you that though this was a pretty mundane sight, it was entirely new to you. Usually, he was always strapped into his gear, or covered up by a big black hoodie. In all the time you’d known him, you’d never actually seen his bare arms before.

And what a sight they were. Thick with rippling muscle, and almost entirely covered in scars, marks, and tattoos. Every line of ink, every raised white bump of a healed injury seemed like it told a different story. His body was a battle map of his past. You could barely peel your eyes away, your brain scrambling to take in every image etched onto his skin, every healed scar.

“Enjoying the view?” Ghost suddenly asked. You practically jumped out of your skin. He’d noticed you looking. Fuck.

“No.” You said. Perhaps a touch too fast. Your eyes were drawn back down to your jacket instantly, as if working the zip was the most interesting task in the world. As if you could pretend that that didn’t just happen.

But it did, and you could feel Ghost’s gaze burning holes into your side. You kept your focus on the zip, your shaking fingers making a meal of the simple task. Now it was stuck, the lightweight waterproof material of the jacket having gotten caught inside the damn thing, preventing it from coming undone.

“Uh huh.” Ghost’s voice drifted back to you, that hint of smug amusement bleeding into his tone again. You gritted your teeth, cursing yourself for getting distracted like that. This was the same man that scared you half to death last night and didn’t bother to apologise for it. He didn’t deserve your attention.

“Need some help?” He asked, clearly not willing to let the issue go.

You opened your mouth to protest, but he was faster than that. His hand was on your zip in a second, and with one sharp tug he yanked it free of the obstruction.

“Thanks.” You mumbled, finally pulling your jacket off your body. It too was dumped unceremoniously into the back. Now, all that was left covering your torso was your thermal undershirt. Taking it off, and sitting in just your sports bra in front of Ghost felt… daunting.

The sound of rushing air coming through the fans suddenly drew your attention. He had turned the heating on full blast. The warm air was a welcome change, since the heat allowed your fingers to slowly begin to thaw. Your hands were gripping the hem of your shirt now, working up the courage to pull it over your head.

Clearly, Ghost did not share your worries. In one smooth motion, he reached up to grab the back of his t-shirt with one hand, before pulling it upwards and over his head.

… Wow.

Much like his arms, Ghost’s torso was covered in a multitude of rock-hard muscle, faded scars, and intricate ink. Washboard abs poked out from the waistband of his jeans, leading into thick pecks and broad shoulders. Images of weaponry and war were dotted across his broad body, hinting at past victories and gritty survival. Most prominent were the skulls that were worked into almost every tattoo, ever-present, like a signature of whose skin the picture was etched upon. At least a couple of them had smooth white lines through them, the drawing cut in half by an unfortunately placed scar.

It was... fascinating. Like the longer you stared, the more answers you might glean to the many questions you held about the man in the car next to you.

One thing was abundantly clear. It was something that you already knew about Ghost, but seeing him topless confirmed that fact.

He was trained – no, built – to kill. His body itself was a weapon, honed over the course of a lifetime to exude raw and unaltered power. Every subtle seating adjustment, every movement of his arms caused muscles to flex under his skin that you didn’t even know existed.

He leaned back in his chair, shifting position so that he could get better access to the straps wrapped around his upper thighs. His hand went to his crotch as he did it, drawing your eyes downwards. Something churned in your gut.

Suddenly, he looked up. Straight at you.

Fuck.

Quick as lightning, your eyes were back down to your hands, tugging at the hem of your shirt. But it did no good. Ghost’s eyes were already creasing into a smirk. He had frozen in place - one hand on the gun strapped to his thigh, and one hand resting over his groin.

A second went by. Silence.

Then a couple more.

Finally, you couldn’t take it any longer.

“What?” You demanded, stealing a glance at him. Ghost raised his eyebrows, nodding at your grip on the hem of your shirt.

“Go on.” He said, his voice full of amusement and anticipation. You frowned, feeling self-conscious.

“Are you going to watch me the whole time?”

Ghost’s smirk grew wider.

“Are you?”

You clamped your mouth shut in response, averting your gaze. He had a point. You’d spent the last few minutes not-so-discreetly ogling him, and his incredible body.

It was now or never. You lifted the bottom of your shirt slowly, peeling the fabric away from your still-damp skin. You couldn’t lift it over your head like Ghost had – it was far too damp and tight for that. The warm air from the heaters kissed your skin, slowly but surely drying away the moisture that had worked itself into every nook and cranny. Fuck, he was right. Getting your wet clothes off was a relief.

You finished pulling the shirt over your head, tossing it over your shoulder. Ghost whistled, appreciatively. You shot him a glare.

“Nice necklace, by the way.” He remarked, with a chuckle. You scowled.

“That’s not funny. It really hurt.” You said, your hand going straight to the bruise at your neck. “And how the hell am I meant to cover this up?”

Ghost shifted position in his seat again, pulling the straps off his legs. His pistol was placed on the dashboard. Everything else went into the back.

“Well, I could buy you a nice little collar if you like.” He said, still chuckling. After a second, his face turned a little serious, his brows furrowed slightly. “And some painkillers.”

“Well, I want one of those things far more than the other.” You retorted, cattily, trying not to let his remarks rile you up.

“I know, I know.” Ghost sighed, popping open the glove compartment. “I can order one tonight, but it won’t come for a few days. I’m thinking black leather, skull on it, maybe a ring for a leash?”

You folded your arms indignantly, crossing them tightly across your chest. Ghost was already chuckling again, as he reached into the open compartment, searching for something.

“I do not want that.”

“Here.”

He threw something into your lap. After some inspection, you realised it was a thick black scarf, made of soft wool. You picked it up, turning it over in your hands. It was certainly warm. Warm and dry. Probably the only thing in the car that was.

“What…?” You began the question, but didn’t know how to finish it. Next to you, Ghost was fiddling with his belt, undoing the buckle.

“It’s mine. Helps when I go out in public.” He explained, unzipping his fly. Your eyes widened, realising what he was about to do.

You focused on wrapping the scarf around your neck. It was a welcome comfort. Not just because it hid the bruise perfectly, but because it was warm and soft around your neck, and the rest of it trailed down your chest, allowing you at least a hint of modesty.

“… Thanks.” You eventually said, the surprise leaking into your tone. Ghost raised his eyebrows.

“Don’t thank me yet.” He warned. “It’s not been washed in a while. Probably stinks.”

Involuntarily, and fuelled by curiosity, you sniffed. It smelt inherently masculine, a mixture of sandalwood and a hint of old smoke. Something about it was just so… Ghost. The urge to go back for a second whiff was surprisingly strong. But you resisted it, knowing that he would probably see you doing it. The last thing you needed was to give him more material for his teasing.

Ghost was moving out of his seat now, pulling his trousers down his legs. Just like his arms, his thighs were thick with muscle, the occasional vein showing under his skin as they tensed and flexed with each movement. He worked them over his knees and down his calves, before pulling socked feet out of his boots and then taking them fully off. Coupled with the socks and his boots, he put everything into the footwell behind him, and then sat back in his chair. In only his boxers.

Which, since you couldn’t help but look at them, were a pair of tight black briefs. Unsurprisingly, they were completely plain and unbranded. Because of their fit and their inherent dampness, they clung to his skin, leaving very little to the imagination. You had to avert your eyes.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Ghost suddenly remarked. His tone was dry, sarcastic.

“You’re enjoying this far too much.” You replied, trying to roll your eyes nonchalantly.

In truth, the situation was making your heart pound. Your fingers shook a little, as you undid the buckle on your belt. It felt dangerous to allow yourself to be so vulnerable in front of him, after what happened last night.

But, thankfully, he wasn’t watching you. He was staring straight ahead, keeping his eyes on the forest. His gaze was alert, attentive to the surroundings outside the vehicle, staying on guard. Whether or not he was genuinely being protective, or he was just trying to give you some privacy, was unclear.

But it was good enough for you. You finished undoing your trousers and pulled them down your legs, stopping only to unlace and remove your boots. Once you were in just your underwear and Ghost’s scarf, you sat back in the seat, letting the warm air blast over your damp frame.

“You’ve stopped shivering.” Ghost suddenly remarked.

It made you pause for a second. You had stopped shivering. When had that happened? Maybe it was because his comments made you blush so hard your skin felt like it was burning. In any case, it was certainly a welcome change. At long last, your extremities were beginning to warm up, and finally regain some feeling. You rubbed your hands together, feeling your fingers slowly start to thaw.

“Don’t say it.” You said, shooting him a glance. He leant back in his chair, folding his arms. It was a smug, confident gesture that made his biceps tense. You tried your best not to look at them.

“Told you so.” He gloated, raising his eyebrows at you. “Good thing, too. Noise was driving me mad.”

You rolled your eyes. Of course. Even when he’d looked out for you, he couldn’t help but be a dick about it.

For a moment, everything in the car was still, and quiet. The sound of the rain pattering on the roof was calming and yet, in some ways, it made you a little anxious. Like the sound only amplified the silence between you, and the heavily built man in his underwear in the next seat. Now it was just you and Ghost, barely clothed, sat in a confined space, with no one around.

Well, no one except –

“Bravo 0-7, come in! This is Bravo 7-3.” The radio crackled to life, and a familiar Austrian accent came through. König.

Wow. That was right on cue.

Ghost pressed a button on his headset, sitting to attention in his seat.

“This is Bravo 0-7. What’s your status?”

“Approaching exfil. Vehicle in sight.”

“Good copy, 7-3.”

No sooner had the message come through, than you saw a large figure emerge from the treeline. It was, as expected, König. He ducked under a low branch, before stepping out onto the road and walking up to the car.

Your mind started running wild. What would he think, returning to the vehicle to see you and Ghost, barely clothed? You were self-conscious enough already, never mind adding him into the mix. And given their last words to each other, you could only predict that this interaction would be just as tense and excruciating to sit through as the last one.

The sound of rain suddenly became loud and sharp, as the door was opened. The car rocked from side to side as König got in, his weight making the suspension creak and whine under the strain. You glanced at him in the rear-view mirror, timidly covering your body with your hands as best you could.

“Hello, I – uh…” He started speaking, but quickly cut himself off. His eyes were darting between the two of you, wide and surprised. “I… uh…”

The beginnings of a blush started to burn on the sides on your cheeks. You glanced at Ghost, then König, then the ground. It felt like inside your mind were a thousand tiny men, frantically digging through the filing cabinets of your thoughts to find an excuse. In contrast, Ghost was calm, and collected. He gave König a nonchalant shrug.

“Little Private here was shivering, ‘cause of her wet clothes.” He said, remaining cool. “It’s protocol.” His eyes seemed to crease with a wry smile. He looked down at himself, as if he was going to offer further explanation for his own nakedness, but he didn’t.

For a long time, as seconds felt like years, nobody spoke. Then, after what felt like an eternity, you heard the unmistakable metallic rustling of a buckle being undone.

You turned around. To hell with keeping yourself covered. You had to see what was going on.

And there, in the backseat, was a sight that you’d been afraid you might see. König was unbuckling the straps of his tac vest.

You glanced over at Ghost. He glanced over at you. For a second, the two of you shared a look. A look that said, can you believe this shit? And then, should we stop him?

But before either of you could react, König pulled the tac vest off and dunked it into the boot. The two of you remained silent. Watching and waiting, in varying levels of disbelief.

He reached under his mask and seemed to unzip something on his shirt. Then, reaching up behind his head, he grabbed the back of his collar and pulled the whole lot over his head and off his body. He dumped it into the boot, behind him.

And for the second time today, you had to just stop and stare.

Damn.

König’s body looked like it could’ve been carved out of marble. Just like Ghost, every inch was covered in thick, rippling muscle. He had tight well-defined abs that travelled up into thick, full pecks. His shoulders seemed almost twice the width of his waist, his hulking form almost a perfect ‘V’ shape.

And just like Ghost, his skin was littered with scars and old wounds. No tattoos, but certainly a litany of raised white lines, and healed bullet wounds. König’s body had seen its fair share of battles. Won most of them too, by the looks of it.

You finally managed to tear your eyes away, looking back at Ghost. He was already looking at you. Neither of you spoke, but the look in his eyes seemed to echo your own thoughts back to you. What the fuck was happening?

König didn’t notice, his hand moving straight to his belt. He undid it one with hand, and with a single tug, pulled it right off his body.

Something about that made your stomach churn.

Then, as his hands went to his fly, he suddenly looked up. Straight at you.

It felt like you’d been caught with your hand in the cookie jar. Instinct screamed at you to look away, pretend you weren’t watching, but you knew it was too late. He had already seen you twisting your body around to look at him. Most annoyingly, Ghost had reacted faster and beaten you to it, already gazing nonchalantly out of the windshield.

“What?” König suddenly asked, his hands frozen over his belt buckle. His glanced at you, and then at Ghost. “You said this was protocol, yes?”

There was a second of silence. Your brain was scrambling for an excuse, an explanation, something.

“Otherwise, why would Ghost also be – ”

“Yes.” Ghost cut in, fast as lightning. “Of course.”

König paused for a second, glancing between you. Then, after a moment, he seemed to shrug, and carried on undoing his trousers. His undid the room button and unzipped his fly. The top of his boxers peeked through the gap.

Was that…?

No. Surely not.

König lifted his hips, sliding his trousers down his legs. A hand went to your mouth instantly, stifling a giggle.

König was wearing Batman underwear.

Plain black background, bright yellow Batman logos plastered all over, and a neon yellow waistband. They were… quite the sight. They looked like the kind of underwear that a thirteen year old boy would wear. To see them on the body of such a well-built, chiselled man was… hilarious.

He seemed to notice your amusement, freezing in place with his trousers at his knees.

“Yes?” He asked, cocking his head innocently. You cleared your throat, trying desperately to hold back the laughter that was bubbling up inside.

“Nothing.” You coughed. Next to you, Ghost was staring at him in the rear-view mirror, a single eyebrow raised. “Those are… quite something.”

König looked down at his boxers for a second. Despite the reactions he was drawing from you and Ghost, he didn’t seem to be embarrassed.

“Do you not like the Batman?” He asked. You stifled another giggle. Part of you really wanted to break out into song, and sing the batman theme tune back to him, but Ghost got there first.

“Fuckin’ hell.” He grumbled, finally turning around. “You got a pair of superman boxers too?”

König shook his head, almost mournfully.

“No. No Superman.” He said. “I do have some with the Joker on, though.”

“Where did you get those?” You pressed, unable to keep yourself from continuously glancing down at them. “Did you… did you bring them with you from KorTac?”

An image formed in your mind. König in his quarters, prepping a go bag before he defected. Digging through his clothes, trying to work out what to pack. Afraid for his life and for what might come next. Looking through his boxers, deciding what to take, and what to leave behind. His eyes settling on the pair of Batman briefs…

“They were a Christmas present, a few years ago.” König replied, folding his arms defensively. “From my mother.”

Seconds passed. Strained silence. The urge to laugh crept up inside you again, threatening to escape. Though, simultaneously, something about that was quite sweet. Next to you, Ghost let out a low chuckle.

“And what impeccable taste she has.” He remarked, looking König up and down. König, on the other hand, did not look pleased. He was regarding Ghost sceptically, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Where did you get your underwear from, lieutenant?” König asked.

Ghost narrowed his eyes for a second.

“… Tesco.”

“What is ‘Tesco’?”

“It’s a shop.”

That felt like it made sense. König’s underwear were a sentimental gift from a family member. Ghost had gone into a supermarket and bought the first plain black pack on the shelf. Though they were occasionally making glances at you, neither of them asked about your underwear. Part of you was relieved. Part of you was… slightly disappointed.

König nodded at Ghost’s statement, seeming placated for the moment. He adjusted his seating position forwards, meaning he could lean back against the backseat. The movement made light dance across his body, the shadows gathering in the curves and lines of his muscle. It was entrancing.

Fuck being cold. The air inside the vehicle felt hot. Hot, and stifling, making your breaths shallow and a bead of sweat to make it’s way down your back. You were in a car with your commanding officer and a defector from your rivals, and all three of you were in nothing but your underwear. The air was so thick with testosterone, you could practically smell it. König’s sheer size alone made him a work of art to look at, every movement he made causing his body to flex and tighten in all the right places.

“How are you doing, Private?” König’s voice yanked you out of your thoughts.

“Uh… what?” You replied, dumbly. Trying to look into him in the eyes after leering over his figure felt… shameful, almost.

König chuckled. It was a low, throaty sound that made your insides flutter. He was settling back into his seat, kicking tactical gear in the footwells aside to make room for his huge legs. It had the added side effect of causing him to spread his legs, his hand moving protectively over his crotch.

Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t –

“I said, how are you?” König repeated. If he noticed the effect he was having on you, he didn’t let on. You forced a quick smile, trying to find him off with an eager nod and a wave of your hand.

“Oh. I’m alright.” You replied, a little quickly. Next to you, Ghost was shaking his head.

“No, you’re not. Your ankle is fucked.” Ghost sighed, looking down at your injured limb. His attention on your body made you self-conscious.

“Oh. Yeah. My ankle.” You said, shaking your head. “It still hurts. But other than that, I’m fine.”

König frowned a little, amusement still creasing his eyes. He draped an arm over the back seats. God, his shoulders were so muscular.

“Yes… your ankle.” He said, slowly. “What else would I be talking about?”

You gulped. He was awfully good at playing innocent. Or… maybe he really was that oblivious. It was very hard to tell.

“My ankle is…” You paused, catching yourself from saying the word ‘fine’. There was really no point. Neither man would believe it. “My ankle is… painful.”

Something at the eye of your vision caught your eye. Ghost was shaking his head, adamantly.

“You’re goin’ straight to medical.” He remarked, folding his arms. You opened your mouth to respond, but the giant Austrian in the backseat got there first. He was leaning towards you, eyes creasing into a small smile.

“I can take you to medical, Private.” König said, softly.

“Like hell you will.” Ghost huffed. “You’re the reason she’s going.”

“I can get to medical myself.” You replied, trying to ease some of the tension. In such a small space, it felt like you could cut through the atmosphere with a knife.

“Oh yeah?” Ghost asked, cocking an eyebrow at you. “On what leg?”

You shut your mouth.

Ghost let out a gruff chuckle.

“That’s what I thought.” He said, nodding solemnly. Then, he twisted his body back around, facing the windshield once more. His hand went into his pocket, fishing the keys out and sliding them into the ignition.

“Alright, fun’s over.” He said, starting up the engine. “Let’s get back to base.”

Chapter Text

The journey back to base took place in excruciating silence. No one was willing to speak first - and so nobody spoke. The town was somehow even quieter than before as the vehicle tore through it, rocking a little on all the potholes in the road. Occasionally you would steal a glance at your two companions, but neither were looking at you. Ghost seemed too focused on driving at breakneck speeds. König was staring wistfully out of the window. That just left you, watching the buildings and trees fly by, your mind running a mile a minute.

It felt like the way back took so much longer than the way there. All the while, your ankle was throbbing, jolting with pain at every shake of the vehicle. Now that all the adrenaline was wearing off, it was starting to hurt more than before. Certainly not the most pain you’d ever felt, but definitely enough to make you constantly uncomfortable.

The sight of the outer gates in the distance was a welcome relief. The atmosphere inside the vehicle was… tense. Ghost hadn’t been bothered to put any music on, or anything. The only sounds that permeated the air was the rumble of the engine.

Upon spotting the gates, Ghost pressed a button on his headset, and the radio crackled to life.

“This is Bravo 0-7. We are RTB, one Klick out. We have an injury.” Ghost said.

You nodded as he spoke, taking in the information. He was telling the base that we were returning. It didn’t take long for the radio to crackle and the reply to come through.

“Copy that, Bravo 0-7. Gates will open for you, and medical will be notified.”

After a second, Ghost pressed the button again.

“Request that gear be brought to the vehicle upon arrival, as we are not dressed.”

There was a second of silence. A second that felt like a year. It took an awfully long time for the reply to come.

“… Say again, 0-7. Don’t think I heard that correctly.”

Ghost sighed.

“You heard me. I need three fresh uniforms brought to the vehicle when we get there. Our clothes were soaked and had to be discarded.”

Then there was another pause. This one was even longer. When the reply came, the voice on the other end sounded strained, like they were struggling to hold it together.

“Roger that, 0-7.”

The vehicle was pulling up to the gates now, the barbed wire topped fences stretching outwards into the darkness. Thankfully, they opened up upon reaching them, negating the need to stop and check in with a guard.

Good. One less person to see you in your underwear.

Ghost kept driving through the compound, sailing past several different buildings and compounds until you reached the car park that you’d set off from. It seemed much bigger than before, now that it was shrouded in darkness. Even the floodlights that surrounded it couldn’t illuminate every inch, meaning the corners and edges of the tarmac were left in shadow. In your underwear, it made for a tense atmosphere.

The vehicle pulled into a parking space and stopped. For a moment, nobody spoke, and nobody moved. Ghost switched off the ignition. Without the rumble of the engine, the silence was more pronounced than ever. Thankfully, the blasting fans of the heating did at least a little to create some background noise.

Your arms were folded across your chest tightly, eyes trained out of the window. Watching the entrance to the car park with an intense interest. Waiting for whoever it was to come and bring you scraps of dignity in the form of fabric to cover yourself.

“Come in, 0-7.” This time it was Price’s voice.

“Copy that, this is 0-7.” Ghost replied instantly. Just like you, he was watching the car park carefully, his head turning this way and that.

“Ghost, I’ve sent Gaz your way with the gear.” Price replied.

Oh, god. You were hoping that they’d send someone you didn’t know. Not someone from the squad. The last thing you needed was more of the squad seeing you like this.

“Rog’.” Ghost replied.

More silence. God, could the tension in the air get any thicker?

You stole a glance at König in the rear-view mirror. He was stretched out in a relaxed pose, his legs spread and his hands behind his head. Something about it made you want to laugh. He clearly wasn’t as anxious about his body as he was about engaging strangers in conversation. It was a stark contrast.

Finally, a figured appeared out of the nearest building. Must be Gaz. A wave of relief washed over you, upon the realisation that you were about to finally be able to cover yourself up.

The lone figure suddenly turned into two. Your heart sunk.

Oh no.

From this distance, in the low lighting of the car park, both figures just looked like black shadowy silhouettes. One silhouette was walking calmly, carrying a small bundle in his arms. That must be Gaz. The other silhouette was practically bouncing along, bursting with energy. You couldn’t see his face, and yet an awful feeling inside told you it was –

“Hey L.T!” A familiar Scottish voice called. “Heard you’re naked in there!”

Shit.

Soap was bounding up to the vehicle like an excited dog whose owner just got home. In a second, he had pressed himself up against the tinted glass of the driver’s side window, his stupid grinning face peering in at the two of you.

Slowly, Ghost rolled his window down.

“Johnny. You’re not Gaz.” Ghost remarked, folding his arms. It made his biceps bulge.

“I’m here, Ghost.” Gaz called, striding up to the car out of the shadows. He was holding, as you’d expected, a bundle of camo-printed fabric. It could only be the spare fatigues.

Meanwhile, the second Ghost rolled the window down, Soap had his hands on the empty frame, leaning into the car with a shit eating grin on his face. His eyes travelled from Ghost, to you, and finally to König, still in the back. At the sight of each new naked body, his eyes grew wider, and his smile grew larger.

“Well, well, well. Look at you lot.” He gloated, almost jumping up and down with glee. “I mean, I heard the mission went south, but Jesus – did anyone else?”

Ghost reached out a hand to lightly slap Soap around the head. The younger man crumpled instantly, cradling the injury.

“Ow! Fuckin’ hell, L.T, I was only – ”

“Out of the way, Johnny.” Ghost chastised, reaching over Soap’s head, towards Gaz.

To say that Gaz was the calmer of the two, he still seemed to be struggling to hold it together as he reached out and gave the bundle to Ghost. His spare hand was clenched into a fist in front of his mouth, his eyes sparkling with amusement. It would’ve been infuriating if you weren’t so embarrassed. Coming back from your first mission working for 141 in nothing but your underwear hadn’t exactly been your plan today.

As soon as Ghost had the clothes, he began handing them out, chucking a shirt and a pair of trousers in your direction. The second they were in your hands, you were desperately tugging them on, grateful to be able to cover up your exposed body.

“Oh my god.” Soap suddenly said. You followed his eye-line, to see that he was staring into the backseat, looking König up and down. “Hey big lad, you taking a break from protecting Gotham to join 141, or what?”

“Didn’t you know?” Gaz replied, nudging Soap with his elbow. “KorTac was founded by the Joker. Mans was just in deep cover this whole time.”

“Do you have a reason to be here, MacTavish?” Ghost suddenly asked, as he zipped up his trousers. It was really weird to see him in plain camo fatigues. The same went for König. Without all of their gear and armour on them, they looked… softer, somehow.

“Come on, sir.” Soap said, folding his arms. “You really think I’d miss this?”

As he pulled the shirt over his scarred, inked-up chest, Ghost was shaking his head. By now, you were fully dressed, and shrinking into your seat. Silently watching the situation unfold, praying that the spotlight didn’t fall on you. Though, thankfully, no one seemed to be looking your way.

The second he was dressed, Ghost sat back in his seat, glaring down at Soap. The younger man didn’t seem phased by his icy glare. If anything, he was egged on by it, as more laughter escaped him.

“Go on, then.” Soap finally said, breaking the silence. He exchanged a short, knowing glance with Gaz. “What happened?”

You sighed. It was finally your turn to enter the conversation. You were going to have to tell them about your stupidity.

“Well, I…” You began, but Ghost cut you off, gesturing impatiently to the sky.

“Did you see the weather today?” He demanded. “We were soaked.”

“Is this… not protocol?” König suddenly asked, fastening the last buttons on his shirt. Soap barked out a laugh.

“Oh, aye, pal.” He chuckled. “We return from all our missions naked. Price checks our prison pockets when we get to the exfil.”

König frowned for a second, looking confused.

“Prison what…?”

You shook your head, stifling a laugh.

“They’re having you on, König. Price doesn’t do that.”

Outside the car, your two squad mates were laughing even harder. They were holding into each other at this point, each clutching the other’s shoulder for balance. Occasionally, they would calm down, and then one of them would repeat a joke that would send the two of them back fits of giggles.

“Ghost.” Price’s voice came through the radio. The suddenness of it was startling. “Did Gaz get the uniforms to you?”

Ghost leant out of the window, taking a second to stare at the two men currently crumpled against the car, gripping their sides.

“… Yes.” He responded, tersely. “He brought a friend, too.”

A sound came through the radio. It was somewhere between a grumble and a chuckle.

“I told Soap to stay out of it.”

“He needs to learn to follow orders.”

“Be nice, Lieutenant.”

Without a word in response, Ghost tugged his headset off and got out of the car. The movement sent Soap and Gaz flying. They had both been leaning on the door, but the sheer force with which Ghost threw it open was enough to knock them to the ground.

The laughter died, instantly. You couldn’t see them any more, but you could hear the cries of indignation and outrage loud and clear.

“Garrick!” Ghost called, before slamming the door shut behind him. You opened yours in response, just so you could hear what was going on. In the backseat, König was already at the driver’s side door, cracking it open to get a peek at the two soldiers on the tarmac.

“Yes sir.” Came Gaz’s reply. He seemed to have calmed down instantly, like a switch had flicked in his head. It took a second for Ghost to speak again.

“… Thank you, for the uniforms.” He eventually said. You spotted Gaz rising to his feet, as his head and shoulders popped back into view. He gave Ghost a wary nod.

“No problem, sir.” He mumbled.

“Johnny!” Ghost suddenly barked, turning his attention to the ground once more. After a moment he held his hand out. “No, no. Stay down there.”

“Come on, L.T, we were only – ”

“Ah ah. I’m your commanding officer, MacTavish. What do we say?”

“I was only having a laugh, sir.”

The exchange made you pause for a second. It was hard to know if it was comforting or not that you weren’t the only one that Ghost pulled power plays on. His words reminded you of his visit to your quarters, late last night. The memory made you a little anxious.

Soap’s head still hadn’t resurfaced. Ghost was keeping him on the floor, for whatever reason. If only your ankle wasn’t hurting so bad. You would’ve been out of the car and watching the scene unfold in a second.

“Sergeant, you decided to waste your time running this errand, when it was clearly assigned to Garrick?”

Soap was only just standing back up. He looked far less amused, now. It was like he wanted to look everywhere except at the angry commanding officer right in front of him.

“Ghost – ”

“Why are you getting to your feet?” Ghost asked, impatiently. “Drop.”

Soap’s face fell. He pouted a little, casting a glance back down at the ground. Finally, he sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

“How many?”

“Until I come back.”

“From where?”

Ghost paused for a second, folding his arms.

“Medical.”

You could hear the low rumbling of Soap grumbling under his breath, but you couldn’t discern any words. He was too quiet for that.

“Garrick.” Ghost suddenly said, turning back to Gaz. He was staring at the patch of ground you presumed Soap was on, amusement twinkling in his eyes once more.

“Yes, sir?” Gaz replied.

“Watch him. Make sure he doesn’t stop.”

With that, Ghost turned on his heel and began walking around the vehicle. You realised, perhaps a little late, that he was making his way over to your door.

The door swung open before you even touched it. A quick glance to your left revealed Ghost standing there, holding an arm out. König was a few feet behind him, arms folded. You hadn’t even seen him get out.

“Come on.” Ghost said, his voice surprisingly soft. “Unless you wanna sleep in there.”

With the engine off and the door open, it was already freezing inside the vehicle. Icy winds were blowing in, chilling you to the core. No way were you going to stay in here a second longer. You grasped his arm, using it as a handle to maintain balance as you awkwardly got out.

“I definitely don’t.” You mumbled, as your good foot finally touched the ground. “Thanks.”

Ghost nodded. It was a small, subtle gesture.

“Let’s get you sorted out.”

Chapter Text

Chilly winds whipped around you, as Ghost helped you out of the vehicle. The socks you’d had on were far too wet to wear, which just left your bare foot to rub against the leather of your boot.

The second you were on the tarmac, König was at your other side, gently taking your other arm. Both men were at either side of you now, both trying to support you and help you walk. Something about having so many hands on your body made your stomach flutter. You did your best to ignore it.

The sounds of grunting to your left drew your attention. At last, you could see Soap. He was still on the ground doing press-ups. His broad shoulders tensed under his shirt with each rise and fall of his torso, his biceps flexing rhythmically to the pace of his efforts.

“Fuck, L.T.” He groaned, his voice strained and breathy already. “You better be quick. You’re gonna kill me.”

Ghost held his arm up, tugging his sleeve down to see his watch. After a second, he shot Soap a side eye.

“Your stamina is disappointing, Johnny.” He remarked, after a second, his eyes creased into a a smirk. “Though I’m sure that’s not the first time you’ve heard that.”

“Which way is the medical facility?” König suddenly asked. Ghost pivoted, causing you to wobble slightly. Luckily, König kept a firm hold and it allowed you to stay upright.

“Infirmary is this way.” Ghost replied, curtly. He started moving without warning, causing you to nearly lose your boot as both men suddenly lifted you into the air.

They swung you forwards. You landed on one leg. As they moved, they lifted you again, pulling you slightly in front of them. This continued for a while, being lifted and swung forwards, then placing your foot back down. All whilst keeping your bad ankle curled up, off the ground. It took a little bit of effort, but their hold on you was nice and firm. It was obvious that neither man was going to let you fall and eat tarmac. They were far too strong – and far too attentive - for that.

The journey to the building across the car park took a little longer than normal with your current handicap. By the time you were halfway across, your fingers were already going numb. Three quarters of the way there and you were back to shivering, your teeth gently chattering. Turns out being in just a shirt and no jacket was not a good way to fight off the cold.

The second your discomfort was making an audible sound, Ghost’s placed his spare hand on the side of your body he was pressed against, gently rubbing up and down your waist.

“Bloody hell, Private.” Ghost huffed, a hint of amusement in his voice. “At least try not to freeze to death.”

You let out a laugh. Despite everything that had happened today, and everything that Ghost had done to you, you still managed to chuckle. The sheer incredulity of what was happening, coupled with the non-stop pain and drowsiness was making you a little delirious.

“You’re the one that only gave me this thin uniform to wear.” You protested, your voice coming out a little strained. Hopping along like this was taking effort, no matter how much support you got.

A new hand touched your body. König had also placed his spare hand on your other side, gently rubbing your waist.

He didn’t say anything about it – in fact, he didn’t do anything that would’ve captured Ghost’s attention. Instead, he silently and carefully matched Ghost’s pace. It created a friction on your sides that warmed your torso up nicely.

Maybe a little too nicely. It was starting to make you feel a little bothered and hot. Their hands were so big on your body, their hold on you so strong. It made you feel protected. It made you feel… other things.

“König.” Ghost suddenly barked, coming to a stop in front of the door to the building. “Get that open.”

König left your side, his warm hands releasing their grip, as he stepped forwards and held open the door for the two of you. Ghost’s grip on your side tightened, falling still. Now that you only had him to help, he snaked his arm around your waist, leaving no need for König to help again.

“Thanks.” You smiled at him, as Ghost practically dragged you past him and through the door. He gave you the slightest of nods.

The lights of the medical building were blinding in comparison to the darkness of the evening outside. It left you blinking rapidly, eyes screwed tightly. Ghost made no effort to slow down for you. He kept up the pace, using his grip on you to lift you with each step. The sound of heavy footsteps to your rear told you that König was behind you both, following closely.

Ghost gently kicked open the doors to the infirmary’s reception area, half-carrying you through them. Every chair in the waiting area was empty, which was a little unusual. Normally there would be at least one or two whiners in here, trying to get out of their missions the next day. But clearly, König’s arrival had shaken things up. With almost all current missions temporarily suspended, it meant that there were far fewer people that even had duties to shirk, never mind going out and getting injured. Nearly everyone you knew would be happily getting ready for bed right now, well and unharmed.

Everyone except you.

Great.

“Lydia.” Ghost’s voice drew your attention. He was talking to the middle-aged lady at reception. She looked up at what she was doing, staring between the three of you over horn-rimmed spectacles. Her neatly manicured fingers clasped together, rubbing against each other thoughtfully as she clearly tried to take the situation in.

Her eyes never left König for long. Apparently Ghost wasn’t the only person on base who had hang ups about accepting KorTac operators into your ranks.

“Lieutenant.” She nodded, leaning forwards to read her computer screen. “We got your message. Doctor Matthews is waiting in room A-2.”

“Where’s that?” Ghost asked, turning his head around. He brought you with him as he moved, nearly throwing you off balance.

“Down the hall. Second door on the right.” She replied, gesturing towards a nearby set of double doors. Ghost gave her a nod.

Then, without warning, he tightened his grip on your body once more and began making his way to the doors. You stumbled slightly as you fought to keep your footing. A hand touched your shoulder gently, preventing you from wobbling over.

König’s hand. He was clearly still following the pair of you closely.

There was a nurse waiting by the door to room A-2. She was a young woman, probably around your age, dressed in light blue scrubs. Her hair was a sleek light brown, held back neatly in a claw clip. She gave Ghost a little smile as you approached. He didn’t react to it.

“In here?” He asked, beginning to usher you through the door. The nurse held out a hand, glancing between the three of you.

“It’s a small room. Only one of you can go in with her.” She said, firmly.

Ghost and König froze, staring each other down.

“I’m the one helping her walk.” Ghost said. His grip around you tightened, almost painfully. Like if he didn’t hold on, you might somehow slip away. König was already shaking his head.

“It’s my fault she got hurt.” König retorted. “And I was there when the injury happened.”

There was a pause.

Both men were glaring at each other, hackles raised, squaring up. Barely a foot apart.

Your ankle was throbbing. The effort of holding it up in the air was causing your leg to ache terribly. At this point, you didn’t really care who went where – you just really needed someone to help with the pain.

Suddenly, the nurse cleared her throat. Everyone turned.

“Which one of you is actually her commanding officer?” She asked, folding her arms. Impatience was rolling off her in waves, a single finger tapping her elbow repeatedly.

“I am.” Ghost growled. Though he was speaking to the nurse, he didn’t look at her when he said it. He was staring right at König. “I’m her commanding officer.”

His tone of voice made your stomach flutter again.

“Well, then.” The nurse said. She looked like she was fighting the urge to roll her eyes. “You come in. And sir, I’m sorry, but you’ll have to wait in the waiting room.”

You glanced at König. His eyes met yours.

Slowly and subtly, you gave him a single nod. A silent message that it was okay – that you’d be okay.

König bowed his head slightly, a small signal of defeat, before turning on his heel and walking down the corridor. As Ghost practically dragged you into the room, you caught one last glimpse of him walking away. He was shaking his head.

Room A-2 was indeed a small room, with the typical examination bed and computer desk only just crammed into the space. The man seated next to the computer in a rolling chair could only be Doctor Matthews. He looked to be middle aged, a few years older than Price, with flecks of grey in his neat brown quiff. As you entered, he gestured to the small blue plastic chair opposite his desk.

“Evening, Private. Please, take a seat.” He said, typing something on his keyboard. Ghost lowered you into the chair, before slinking off the corner of the room, where he leant against the wall, watching. You tried not to pay attention to him, but it was difficult.

As the doctor began his examination, he kept a careful watch. Your ankle was examined, poked, prodded, and rubbed. Every point of contact sent jabs of pain up your leg, but you did your best to grin and hear it. The last thing you wanted was to look weak in front of Ghost. The nurse tried to get him to leave a couple of times, assuring him that what you had was a minor injury and really no cause for concern, but he didn’t seem to listen. He stayed glued to the corner of the room, paying attention only to you.

As it turned out, you had sprained your ankle, just as König thought. Luckily, it was pretty mild, meaning you only needed a couple days rest before you’d be able to start putting weight on it again.

Once the examination was over, they gave you a set of crutches and told you to head back to your room and get some sleep. You didn’t need telling twice. After the day you’d had, it felt like you could sleep for a week.

Leaving room A-2 proved to be a lot easier than entering it. Being able to move by yourself with the crutches, without having someone’s hands all over you, was extremely relieving. At the very least, you hoped that it would prevent more of the strange behaviour you received from Ghost and König in the car park. Although, as you made your way out of the medical bay, both men fell in step behind you, like two over-eager bodyguards.

Your quarters, and most of the dorms on base, were one building over from the infirmary. The whole time you made your way over there, Ghost and König kept silently following you. Neither did them said a word – to you, or to each other. But they were ever-present, occasionally moving ahead to clear a path through crowded areas and hold open doors.

It was a welcome relief to finally get back to your room. What a fucking day. By now, the pain had settled into a full, throbbing ache that felt like it was leeching your very life-force out through your ankle. Your limbs felt sluggish and heavy, making using the crutches a little difficult. If Ghost hadn’t opened your door for you, you might’ve just crashed right through it.

“Thank you.” You sighed, breaking the silence at last once you were finally back across the threshold of your personal space. “I’m gonna go straight to sleep, I think.”

Ghost gave you a single nod. König was the one that spoke first, resting a hand on the top of your doorframe and ducking down slightly to lean through the opening.

“Make sure you get plenty of rest. Don’t put any weight on it yet.” He said, softly. You shot him a warm smile.

“That’s what the doctor said, actually.” You admitted. “You were right. Just a sprain.”

König nodded. Though you are smiling at him, he was not reciprocating your expression. There was a looking in his eyes that seemed… melancholy, almost.

“If you need anything, give me a bell.” Ghost suddenly said, interjecting into the conversation. “My room’s just upstairs.”

“Will do.” You nodded. Your eyes wandered to the inside of your room, your safe place in the otherwise cold and unwelcoming military base. God, you wanted to sleep. “Thanks again.”

Ghost didn’t respond – in the midst of telling you to call him, he’d pulled his phone out of his pocket and was currently staring at it. Amusement creased his features. After a moment, he noticed you looking, and turned the phone around. It showed what looked like live footage of the car park.

“Johnny’s still going at it.” Ghost chuckled, pointing to the screen. Sure enough, there was Soap, still doing press-ups by the side of the vehicle. Gaz was leaning lazily against the bonnet, watching him.

Part of you felt bad. Getting seen by the doctor had not been a quick affair.

“Is that… CCTV?” You asked, slowly. “You have access to the base cameras in your phone?”

Ghost having access to that felt like a security breach. He chuckled in response, unbothered by your apprehension.

“Perks of being the lieutenant of 141.” He smirked, before tucking his phone away in his pocket once more. “I better go relieve him.”

König heard this and nodded, reaching to close the door.

“Goodnight, Private.” He smiled. You returned it, warmth pooling in your gut.

“Yeah. Goodnight.” You replied.

“Night.” Ghost gruffly said, before turning on his heel and walking away.

König pulled the door closed. You locked it and collapsed into bed, ready to sleep for twelve hours straight. Ghost’s scarf came off first. Part of you felt like maybe you should text him to come get it back, but that would mean more alone time with him. In the end, you chucked it into a corner to forget about it.

All you wanted to think about was finally falling unconscious, safe and warm under the covers.

Chapter Text

It took a couple of days before you could put weight on your foot again. Those days were spent laying around in bed and enjoying a good rest for once.

But not today. Today you’d actually been up and about for the first time in a while. It felt good to finally wear real clothes, and move around with the help of crutches. Using them was a real pain - though at least it had given you a pretty good workout whilst you’d been off duty.

It was a good thing that this day in particular was the first day you could finally rejoin society, because today was Friday. The day that Soap and Gaz had organised for the squad to go on a night out. They’d done it under the guise of welcoming König to the squad and doing some team building, but you knew better. They’d take any excuse for a drink.

In fairness to them, it was a pretty good excuse.

The time was just nearing 1900 hours. It had taken nearly two hours for you to eat in the mess hall, get showered, get dressed, and apply makeup. But once it was finished, you were proud of the result. The dress you were wearing was probably the nicest thing that you’d brought on deployment with you. It clung to your body in all the right places. Plus, it matched the choker that you’d put on to cover up the fading bruise on your neck. By now, it had turned from purple to green - clearly disappearing, although still definitely visible behind the concealing neck garment. But the dress, coupled with a pair of boots and a smokey eye that took you nearly half an hour to do, were currently making you feel pretty damn good.

A knock sounded at your door, making you jump.

“Come in, it’s open!” You called, not moving away from the mirror. Your hair was nearly done. It just needed a couple more tweaks. The door clicked open. Footsteps signalled someone’s entry to your room.

“Evening, Private.” The gruff, gravelly rumble told you that it was Price speaking.  You turned to see him leaning against your doorway, dressed in blue jeans and a flannel shirt. It was beyond strange to see him in civvie clothes. “You look nice.”

“Thanks.” You smiled, finally turning away from your own reflection to grab your bag. “It’s kind of weird, wearing normal clothes like this again.”

Price barked out a laugh, nodding to himself. “Too used to the uniform, eh?”

One last look in the mirror allowed you to double check your outfit. Satisfied, you walked over to Price and flicked the light off behind you.

“I guess so. Being posted on base doesn’t allow a lot of time for stuff like this.” You replied, following the captain out into the corridor and locking your door.

“I wanted to talk to you.” He suddenly said, changing the subject entirely. You felt your heart beat a little faster. He’d never done this before. Were you in trouble? “Before we met up with the others, I mean.”

Your mind was reeling, running a mile a minute, trying to work out what you could’ve possibly done wrong.

“… Right.” You said, the uncertainty clear as day in your tone. “What about?”

“How did the mission go?” He asked, falling into step beside you as the two of you walked down the corridor.

You swallowed, hard. Oh god, the mission. Flashes of Ghost and König’s naked forms passed across your mind’s eye. It made heat run through your body.

“Fine!” You chirped, perhaps a little too quickly. “We did what we were meant to do, sir. Mission accomplished.”

“Uh huh.” Price said, slowly. He glanced across at you, a single eyebrow raised. “And how did you all end up in your underwear?”

Oh, god.

“We, uh…” You began, desperately trying to work out how you were going to explain it. There was a dry, scratchy feeling at the back of your throat.  “It was raining heavily, and we all got soaked. The Lieutenant thought that the best way to warm up would be to… get out of our wet clothes.”

“… Uh huh.” Price repeated. Disbelief was plastered all over his face. He stopped walking, staring at you intensely.

“Were you, uh, uncomfortable with that?” He asked, his eyes shifting between you, and the wall next to you.

The hot blush of embarrassment crept over your features. Of all the people to talk about this with, Price had to be one of the most awkward. He seemed to feel that energy too, now barely able to really look at you properly.

“It’s fine. It was fine.” You assured him, shaking your head.

“Well, if you’re sure…”

“I’m sure.”

“Laswell will be on base soon. If you need a, uh, woman to chat with, then…”

Jesus Christ. You slapped a hand over your face, cringing hard at the direction he had taken this conversation in. Thank god this was an empty corridor, so there was no one around to witness it.

“It’s fine, Price, really.” You shook your head, staring intently off to the side. “That’s nice, but not necessary. I’m a professional. I don’t need… ‘girl talk’.”

Price paused for a moment. Then, after a few seconds, he nodded.

“Alright.” He said, finally able to look you in the eyes again. “Well, I just wanted to make sure.”

At this, you shot him a smile. In fairness, it was actually quite nice to know that he was looking out for you like that. Even if he was so damn awkward about it.

“Thanks.” You nodded, as the two of you began walking again. “I appreciate it.”

The two of you turned a corner, walked down some stairs, and that’s when you heard it. The deep rumble of several male voices, talking and laughing with each other.

“Well, look at you.” An amused voice said. A Scottish voice. You turned to see Soap, dressed in a blue t-shirt and jeans. “You scrub up nicely, lass.”

“Thanks.” You smiled, glancing around at the small crowd of people.

The group was gathered next to the main door of the building. Here, the area opened up to a nice foyer, with large windows that were casting the last orange rays of the sun across the room. Half the squad was already waiting there, all dressed in civvie clothes. It was a strange sight. Especially Ghost and König, who were each wearing a plain black balaclava in place of their usual masks. Ghost had the hoodie of his hoodie drawn up over his head. König was wearing a worn dark blue baseball cap over his balaclava. He had a black scarf drawn up to his chin. It looked very similar to the one Ghost had lent you, which was currently tucked away in the corners of your room somewhere.

“Are we all here?” Price asked, as the pair of you approached. Soap clapped his hands together.

“Let’s go!” He called, enthusiastically. Gaz was the nearest person to you in the crowd, meaning you had a front-row seat to the way he grinned and rolled his eyes.

“Someone’s excited.” Gaz remarked, amusement thick in his tone. You shot him a knowing smile.

“I’ll join him on that one.” You replied. “I’m so ready to let loose.”

“Sounds like shots are on you, Private.” Gaz laughed.

You followed the crowd out of the lobby and into the car park beyond. There were rows and rows of SUVs here, most of them the signature army green. Closest to the building was a variant in black. It had tinted windows, and a soldier behind the wheel that you didn’t recognise. Part of you was impressed – if Soap and Gaz had thought far enough ahead to secure a designated driver, then they’d planned this better than expected.

Everyone piled into the seven-seater vehicle. Price sat up front. Soap and Gaz got into the back. That left you, Ghost and König to take the middle seats.

“Go on, Private.” Ghost suddenly said, giving you a light nudge. “You’re the smallest. You’ll have to take the middle seat.”

Take a seat in the middle of Ghost and König? That sounded like a recipe for disaster. You hesitated at the door, unwilling to get in just yet. Casting a glance behind you revealed an impatient Ghost – arms folded, tapping one foot.

“I have wider hips. Surely it would make sense to – ”

“Get. In.” Ghost barked, cutting you off.

His tone was abrupt, and harsh. You turned back around, shoulders slumped in defeat, before climbing reluctantly into the middle seat. König was already sat on the other side, his knees pressed awkwardly against the driver’s seat. His legs were literally too long to fit normally into the car. Even after knowing him for the best part of a week, his sheer size was still… astounding. As you got in, he seemed to give you a once over, before nodding.

“You look lovely, Private.” He murmured, a gentle smile creasing his eyes.

Subtly, you shot him a grin. “Thanks, König. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

You only just managed to get your seatbelt on before Ghost threw himself into the seat next to you, trapping you between the two giant men. On each side, their trousers were pressed against your legs, the coarse fabric rubbing a little against your bare skin.

The engine rumbled to life and the vehicle set off. The driver took the same route that Ghost had on the last time you’d left the base – when you’d gone on the recon mission. Out through the gates, stopping only to check in with the guards posted there, before rolling out in the open road, through the forest that surrounded the base and onto the winding country roads. The town wasn’t too far away.

Behind you, you could hear Soap and Gaz chatting away, joking with each other. Price was talking to the soldier driving, seemingly giving him instructions as to when and where to arrive later to pick your group up and take you all home. At each side of you, Ghost and König were silent.

“Hey, can we put some music on?” Soap suddenly called. He must’ve leant forwards as he spoke, because his voice was surprisingly close to your ear.

“No.” Ghost instantly replied, shaking his head. “You played some right shite last time.”

Soap made a noise. An indignant, disappointed groan.

“There’s nothing wrong with the Vengaboys.” Soap grumbled. Ghost turned around to look at him, placing his arm along the back of your seat.

“And that is exactly why you’re not putting music on.” Ghost retorted, gruffly. He turned back around, but kept his arm where it was. Almost like it was around your shoulders. It was hard not to react.

“You’re a hard man to please, L.t.” Soap tutted, clearly not willing to let the issue go.

Then, Ghost spoke again, but it was so quiet that you barely heard it.

“Not always.”

It made your stomach churn. There was no way that Soap heard it, being all the way in the backseat. You couldn’t escape the feeling that it was a message that he wasn’t intending for Soap in particular to hear. You didn’t want to look at him, in case that might acknowledge that you’d heard it, but you knew that if you did, you’d catch him smirking behind his balaclava.

Ghost’s arm felt hot around your shoulders, the sleeve of his hoodie rubbing gently on the back of your neck every time the vehicle flew over a pothole. You could’ve sworn that he was doing it deliberately. His fingers were gripping the seat, his knuckles grazing the back of your shoulder. Every point of contact felt charged with energy. Like his body exuded electricity. In such a public setting, it felt like a bold move. A bold move that you weren’t quite sure how to handle.

The roads were opening up now, turning from twisting, turning run-down one-laners to well maintained, wide roads. It was a sign that you were nearing town.

“Remember, we’re on our best behaviour tonight.” Price called. “No drawing attention to ourselves.”

There was a pause. Ghost had turned around again, looking at Soap over his shoulder.

“Got that, Johnny?” Ghost murmured, an amused look in his eyes. You heard Soap huff.

“Loud and clear.” He grumbled.

Something touched you. You glanced down. König had his hand on the edge of his thigh, his fingers reaching over it. Just enough to brush against your skin. A rush of heat flowed through your body. It was subtle, but deliberate. Whether or not it was a reaction to Ghost’s arm around you, you couldn’t tell.

But, just like Ghost’s arm, the contact made you feel electric. Alive.

Keeping your face still and pretending you hadn’t seen was almost impossible. In the end, you couldn’t help yourself. Ever so slightly, you nudged your leg into his, letting his fingers run over your skin. They felt calloused, and warm. It almost made you shudder.

You kept your eyes on the road. Ghost was still turned around, talking with Soap. Distracted. Price was chatting with the driver. There was no one paying enough attention to notice.

König flexed his hand, as if stretching. Rather conveniently, it allowed his fingertips to rub against your skin a little harder. You took a deep breath, trying to keep calm. The whole situation was making your stomach do backflips.

You moved your thigh against his again, in response. Trying to give him a subtle ‘go ahead’ signal. He inched his hand a little closer to your leg.

Then, suddenly, Ghost turned around.

König retracted his hand from your thigh instantly, putting it between his legs. He seemed to shuffle back into his own space, drawing his body inwards to avoid contact. You jumped away a little too, clamping your legs firmly together. Thankfully, Ghost didn’t seem to pay any attention.

The vehicle was pulling into town. You were nearly there. Unlike the last time you’d been through here, the streets were bustling and busy. A mass of lights, people, and noise enveloped the car. It was a welcome change from the ghost town this place had been before.

The vehicle pulled into a parking space on the side of the road. Price thanked the soldier driving. Everyone was already piling out of the car, spilling out onto the pavement. You followed them, eager not to be left behind. Soap was at the front of the group, striding confidently towards the nearest bar.

“Johnny, d’you even know where you’re going?” Ghost called, hanging back. Soap didn’t even stop to look at him.

“Who do you think planned this?” He retorted, pushing open the door to the bar and making his way inside. Gaz was on his heels, clapping his hands above his head.

You heard Ghost audibly groan, and looked over to see him staring disapprovingly at the blinking neon sign hanging above the entrance. It had a scantily clad woman on it, who would bend at the waist and stand up again at each flash of light. It was hard not to laugh. This was obviously the last place Ghost would’ve chosen.

The floor inside the bar stuck to your boots, presumably from the already-swaying patrons in here spilling their drinks. Music was blasting out of speakers dotted around the room. The air was thick with moisture, but every so often a cool breeze would blow through the door and prevent you from getting too hot. The place was a little sleazy, sure, but it set the tone for the night. Soap hadn’t taken you out for just a couple of pints.

And speaking of which, he was already at the bar with Gaz when you made you way over, yelling into the ear of a tired-looking bartender.

“Four – no, six shots of that!” Soap was shouting, holding his hands up for emphasis. “Yeah, that one!”

You gulped. You’d been in here for precisely thirty seconds and already, they were ready to practically pour alcohol down your throat. You knew had to try and pace yourself. Getting too drunk with Ghost and König around would only spell disaster.

“Ah! Hey rookie.” Gaz said. It brought you back down to Earth, away from your worries. He was grinning at you, arms folded. “Ready for tequila?”

“You guys aren’t messing around.” You laughed, eyebrows raised. Gaz cocked his head playfully.

“We work hard, we play hard.” He replied.

Soap suddenly turned around, handing a shot of golden liquid to Gaz. The tequila. When he spotted you he handed one over, before his eyes were drawn to something above you.

“Hey, big man. Pass these along to the others.” Soap called. You looked up to see that König was stood right behind you, taking a shot from Soap.

“The Captain and Ghost are sat at a table, shaking their heads at me.” König replied, a little quietly.

Soap rolled his eyes.

“Pussies.” He grumbled. “Well, more for us.” After a second, he handed a second shot to Gaz, and took the last one into his other hand, leaving both of them with two shots.

“Alright. Bottoms up!” Gaz called. Everyone took their shots. You drank yours. The tequila burned a little as it went down, warming your throat. You did your best not to grimace. Soap and Gaz were downing their second shots. Everyone put their glasses back on the bar, taking a second to process the taste.

“Tastes like shit.” Gaz complained.

“Tastes like a fuckin’ party!” Soap cheered, rambunctiously. “Alright, go sit down. I’ll get a real round in.”

You followed König. It seemed like an obvious choice, as he had both the best view of the room and was also the easiest to spot in a crowd. He towered over the other patrons, leaving people turning their heads to gawp at him as he went by. Though, if he noticed, he didn’t acknowledge it. You figured he was probably used to it by now.

Price and Ghost had settled into a booth in the darkest corner of the room, far away from the bar and a little way away from the dance-floor. Here, you could actually hear yourself think over the thumping pop music blasting from the speakers. As you approached, Ghost called your name and tapped the empty spot next to him. You obediently shuffled into the booth, sitting down next to him. Gaz clambered eagerly into the seat next to Price.

That just left König, who slunk onto the end of the seat, on your other side. Putting you right between him and Ghost once more.

Perfect. Just… fucking perfect.

It didn’t take long for Soap to come over with a tray of drinks in hand. The tray had two glasses of whiskey which he handed to Price and Ghost, three pints of beer that went to himself, Gaz, and König, and finally, what looked like a spirit and mixer for you.

“What is this?” You asked, eyeing up the drink cautiously. Soap shrugged.

“Just a vodka and lemonade. Didn’t know what you’d want.” He replied. You looked around the table, at all the drinks he had bought.

“Can’t help but feel like you’ve been a little bit sexist here.” You pointed out, raising an eyebrow at him. He laughed in response, taking a swig of his beer.

“What, you don’t like vodka and lemonade?”

You gritted your teeth, resisting the urge to let out a sigh.

“… I do.”

“Well, there we go then, lass.”

Soap’s response was smug, but still jovial. It made you want to roll your eyes. That wasn’t the point. He knew that wasn’t the point.

But, reluctantly, you took a drink of it. It was cold, sweet, and a little sour from the underlying hint of vodka. But overall… not terrible. Across the table from you, Soap took a hearty swig of his drink, before slamming his pint down on the table with a thunk.

“Alright.” He said, eyes darting from person to person. They had a certain kind of fire behind them that you hadn’t seen in Soap before. He looked like he was about to set a challenge. “It’s time. We’re playing a drinking game.”

Ghost shook his head.

“No.” He said, flatly. Soap pouted, jabbing a finger at him.

“Last time we drank, you said we’d do it next time!” He retorted. “Well, now it’s next time.”

“Oh, indulge the poor boy.” Price suddenly said, glass raised to his lips. “He’ll only sulk harder if you don’t.”

Initially, Ghost remained stoic and unfeeling. But after a second, and a very sad look from Soap, he seemed to relent, folding his arms and settling back down into his seat.

“Fine.” He grumbled, rolling his eyes. After a moment, his attention fixated on Soap. “What are you making us do?”

“You guys play drinking games?” You asked, frowning. Ghost and Price in particular didn’t seem like the gaming type. Ghost shook his head.

“Johnny boy gets antsy without entertainment.” Ghost replied, taking a long swig of his whiskey.

“They’re fun.” Soap insisted, shooting a meaningful look at Ghost.

“Drinking is fun.” Ghost retorted, folding his arms.

Soap paid no attention to him this time, leaning back to think about something. After a second, the spark of an idea passed over his eyes.

“‘Never have I ever’ seems like a good way to get to know our new squad mates.” He beamed, casting a devilish look across the table at you and König. “What d’ya say?”

“Sure!” You grinned. Sure, you might have to reveal things about yourself – but you were certainly interested in learning more about the men on your squad.

“What are the rules?” König asked, staring at Soap with a vacant expression. Soap chuckled in response, leaning forwards with a smile.

“Well, big man. We take in turns saying something we haven’t done.” He began. He took a pause mid-sentence to swig his beer. “If you’ve done it, you drink. Simple, eh?”

“If we’re playin’ this, then I want no funny business.” Price suddenly barked, jabbing a finger across the table at Gaz and Soap. “I know what you muppets are like.”

“Aw, you know us, sir.” Gaz winked. “Best behaviour. Promise.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Price scoffed. “Because I do not want to be having conversations with HR in the morning.”

A chorus of low chuckles erupted between Gaz and Soap. They seemed to exchange look with each other, because turning back around to grin at the captain.

“Go on then, sir.” Gaz said, giving him an eager nod. “You set a good example.”

“I’m too old for this.” Price muttered, as he raised his glass to his lips. But, after a few seconds of thought, he seemed to concede. “Alright. Never have I ever…”

There was a moment of silence. He glanced around the table, like it would somehow spark an idea. His attention landed on Gaz and Soap.

“Never have I ever forgotten a vital piece of equipment on a mission.” He finally said.

Both men looked back at him with puzzled expressions in their faces. Now it was Price that was chuckling. “Come on, lads. Berlin?”

A second of silence. Then, a look of recognition passed over their faces.

“You bastard.” Soap grinned. “Oh, I see how it is.”

“Cheers, mate.” Gaz said, holding his pint out to clink it against Soap’s. The two took big gulps of their beers, Soap spilling a little down his chin.

You laughed, watching them. The way these men interacted with each other was interesting to observe. As much as they made playful jabs and jibes at each other, it was obvious how close they all were.

Once his pint glass was back down on the table, Soap nudged Gaz with his elbow. “Go on, mate. Your turn.”

“Alright, alright.” Gaz leant backwards, hands clasped behind his head. Unlike Price, his idea seemed to come to him immediately. Within seconds, a cheeky smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth giving away his amusement. He glanced over pointedly at König. “Never have I ever… been a member of KorTac.”

For a moment, everyone was silent. Holding their breath, waiting for König’s reaction. But to your collective relief, he let out a gruff chuckle.

“Ah. You got me, Sergeant.” He grinned. “Fair enough. I will drink.” With that, he drew his balaclava up and took a swig of his beer. It exposed the edge of a sharp jawline, coated in dark stubble. Interesting.

“My turn!” Soap called, his voice thick with glee. His hands were rubbing together conspiratorially as he began staring at each person at the table in turn, brow furrowed thoughtfully.

Then, something seemed to dawn on him. His eyes widened as he straightened up, grinning in your direction. You swallowed hard, nervous of what might be coming.

“Never have I ever… come back from a mission in my underwear.” Soap announced, a glint in his eye and a shit eating grin on his face.

Gaz erupted into a hearty chuckle. Price groaned, disappointedly. You felt a hot, shameful blush creep onto your cheeks. Flashes of being in the car, nearly naked, with Gaz and Soap laughing about it drifted back to you. Not a great first mission.

“Careful, Johnny.” Ghost warned, the disapproval clear in his tone. “I can always make you do more press ups.”

“Ah, just ‘cause you’re shite at this game.” Soap retorted, waving his hand nonchalantly.

In your left, König was laughing even harder, nodding approvingly at Soap. “Oh, I like this. Okay. It’s my turn, ja?”

You nodded, your voice a little soft in contrast to the big personalities clashing around you. “Yeah, König. Your turn.”

“Alright.” He nodded, leaning back in his chair. The surround laughter slowly died as everyone waited for him to decide. After a long time, a smile creased the corners of his eyes. “Okay. Never have I ever… disciplined a recruit with a warning shot.”

The table remained silent. Every pair of eyes started wide eyed at him, a little horrified.

“You.. what?” Soap was the first to speak, the disbelief clear in his tone.

“You didn’t mention that in your interrogation.” Price remarked, slowly.

Sensing that he’d taken it too far, König seemed to take in this shock with mirrored surprise. He held his hands up in an innocent gesture, shaking his head.

“I’ve never done it.” He assured the lot of you. “I mean, that’s the point of the game, right?”

A couple of nervous nods and chuckles went up around the group. No one seemed entirely convinced. Least of all Ghost, whose muscles you could feel tensing up the second he had said it.

“Okay!” You suddenly called, clapping your hands together. It seemed best to swiftly move on from that, and it was your turn. “My go. Never have I ever…”

You trailed off for a moment, trying to think. All eyes landed on you. It was a little intimidating. Part of you wanted to take a cheeky angle with it, like Soap and Gaz had, but after König’s turn you knew you should pick something tame.

“Never have I ever… been hungover on a mission?” You offered.

Across the table, Soap and Gaz both rolled their eyes, clink their glasses together again, and took big swigs of their drinks. Price was frowning at them, curious.

“Berlin?” He asked.

Soap nodded, chuckling. “Why d’you think we forgot all our gear?”

“Plonkers.” Price remarked, simultaneously both exasperated and lightly amused.

You took a sip of your drink, savouring the sweet taste in your tongue. Beyond the booth, revellers in the bar were getting a little wilder, and the dance floor was filling up. Around you, all heads swivelled to Ghost.

“Go on, L.T.” Soap said, nodding at the big gruff man next to you. “Give us something juicy.”

Ghost seemed to stretch out in his chair little, staring off to the side with a look that said, ‘Why do I let him do this to me?’

“Come on.” You said softly, giving him a little nudge. When he looked down disapprovingly, you nodded towards Soap’s facial expression, which had turned into pleading and a hint of desperation. His big doe-eyes were fixated on Ghost. “Look at him. How can you say no to that face?”

“Fine.” Ghost grumbled. “Never have I ever… thrown up inside a bar.”

Something inside you deflated. Though he had technically answered, it was definitely a very plain and boring one. You felt yourself being a little disappointed by it, having been hoping that he might actually reveal something about himself. But no. Of course not. This was Ghost, after all.

Clearly, Soap felt the same as you did, because he was already shaking his head in exasperation.

“You’re so boring.” He remarked, before taking a large swig. To your surprise, Price also subtly lifted his glass to his lips.

“Ah, you too, Captain?” You grinned, cheekily. “Would’ve thought you’d be able to handle your alcohol.”

Price rolled his eyes, an ashamed smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “We’re all young and dumb at some point.”

“Anyway. My turn.” He continued. His eyes wandered over each person once again, his lips pursing in thought. After a few seconds, his gaze landed back on you, amusement glinting behind them. “Never have I ever nearly stepped on an anti-personnel mine.”

Oh, god.

A hot blush exploded across your cheeks, instantly. The table erupted with laughter and jokes, all of which was aimed at you. In some ways, it was kind of nice because it really made you feel like sort of the team.

But mostly, it was just pretty embarrassing.

“Alright, alright.” You sighed, taking a big gulp of your drink. Soap and Gaz were clapping with delight. Price was chuckling. König placed a comforting hand in your shoulder, squeezing lightly.

The swig you took turned out to be your last. The glass was empty now, and as you placed it back down on the table you realised that everyone else’s glasses were the same – either already finished, or getting close to it.

Gaz seemed to notice this at the same time you did as he stood up, pushing away from the table.

“Alright, I’m getting another round.” He announced, gesturing with his empty pint glass. As he removed himself from the table, he gave Soap a little pat on the shoulder. “Soap, you take my turn, mate.”

“Nice!” Soap grinned, rubbing his hands together with glee. “More beer and two turns.”

As he casted an eye around the table, you spotted Price and Ghost exchanging a pointed look. Ghost leant forwards slightly, pointing a finger at him. “Remember – behave.”

Soap paused for a moment, staring back at Ghost. His expression was amused, sure, but there was something else there. Something lurking behind the way he tilted his chin confidently upwards, and the way he folded his arms confidently. Defiance.

In the end, he didn’t miss a beat.

“Never have I ever… had a wank whilst sleeping in bunks in the barracks.”

Ghost rose to his feet suddenly, knocking the table. It made you jump out of your skin. Everyone had to quickly grab their drinks in order to prevent them from falling over.

“I told you that in confidence.” Ghost growled, jabbing a furious finger down at the Sergeant. Soap remained unbothered, glancing down at Ghost’s glass.

“Sounds like you should be taking a drink, pal.”

“This why I don’t like these fucking gam – ”

“Jesus, L.T. Are ya gonna drink or are ya gonna keep crying about it?”

Silence fell. For another tense moment, Ghost remained stood up, glowering down at Soap like an angry god casting judgment.

Eventually though, the younger man’s statement seemed to get to him. He grabbed his glass, gave Soap one last frown, and then finally, sat down and took a drink.

“You’re on thin fucking ice.” He warned, firmly.

Soap seemed to shrug this statement off pretty quickly. He relaxed back into his chair, seemingly satisfied that he’d won that battle of wills.

“Yeah, yeah, got it.” He said nonchalantly waving his hand. “Now, next one, let’s see…”

You were practically holding your breath as his attention swept across the table again. If Soap was willing to do that to Ghost, then there was no way of knowing what he might say next.

As if confirming your fears, Soap’s eyes seemed to focus on Ghost, then König, and then you. A shot eating grin slowly spread across his face. Your heart pounded.

“Never have I ever…” Soap began, “… had a sexual fantasy about someone else at the table.”

Time seemed to stand still. Your heart was pounding in your chest now, your breaths coming thick and fast. It was like he’d reached into your mind and pulled out a secret that you hadn’t even spilled. Did he know how you felt? How could he know? You barely understood it yourself.

As if trying to give yourself away, you couldn’t keep your eyes from flitting between Soap, and your glass. Your hand twitched. It knew what it should be doing right now. It should be picking up your glass for a drink.

But as you thought this, you noticed something else. Movement, from both sides of you. Ghost and König were both moving their arms, reaching forwards for their –

“No!” Price barked, slamming a fist down on the table. Everyone jumped. Well, everyone apart from Ghost.

Your captain had a shocked, yet angry look on his face. He shook his head at Soap, brows knitted into a tight, frustrated frown.

“I told you. No funny business.” He said, before turning to the table. “No one answer that.”

“Aw, come on, sir!” Soap protested, through fits of giggles. “This is juicy stuff!”

“Absolutely not.” Price replied, firmly. “That’s a HR nightmare just waiting to happen.”

“It’s okay, Captain.” König suddenly said, reaching a hand reassuringly across the table. “I will take my turn. Never have I ever…”

“König, no - !” Price tried his best to interrupt, but it was much too late.

“… used tac gear in ‘the bedroom’.” He finished, with an obvious wink.

Soap spat out the mouthful of beer he had been drinking. It dribbled down his chin and splattered across the table. Price already had his head in his hands. Ghost, ever so subtly, leant down and took a small sip of his whiskey.

“Right. That’s it.” Price groaned, shaking his head. “Game over. You fucked it.”

A chorus of groans went up around the table. Mainly from Soap and König. Ghost seemed to be quietly enjoying himself, his eyes casting a very smug look over towards Soap.

It was then that you noticed Gaz, coming back with a tray of drinks. He seemed a little bewildered at the sight, setting the tray down on the sticky table with confusion in his eyes.

“What did I miss?” He asked, slowly. Price sighed.

“Game’s over.” He replied. “They took it too far.”

As the conversation devolved into a discussion of what did and didn’t classify as “too far”, your mind wandered. About Soap’s question, and Ghost and König’s reactions. To your new drink, which you took gratefully and took a few sips of. And finally, one other thing came to mind.

“I need the toilet.” You announced, turning to König. “Can I get out?”

He obliged, getting up to let you leave the booth. Standing up revealed that you were tipsier than you thought you would be, and as you made your way over to the bathroom you felt lighter on your feet than usual. A little giddy, even.

You used the toilet quickly, before washing your hands in the sink and checking your hair in the mirror.

As you left the bathroom, something caught your eye. Down the hall was an open doorway, leading to a terrace out the back. Illuminated in the orange glow of the outside lamps was a familiar figure slouched against the wall.

He looked up at you as you saw him, almost like he could feel your eyes looking.

“Private!” Ghost called, beckoning you over. “Fancy a fag?”

Chapter Text

You hovered for a second in the doorway of the toilet, looking over at Ghost. His balaclava was drawn up, just above his mouth. He already had a cigarette hanging from his lips, and as his eyes met yours, he held another out to you. An invitation.

Nerves churned in your stomach. Lately, most of your one-on-one conversations with Ghost had been anxiety inducing affairs. But the alcohol was starting to work its way through your system, giving you more confidence than usual. Maybe you could have a cig with him. After all, what could he possibly do when you were both out in public like this?

You made your way over to him. He nodded, approvingly, handing the cig over as you stepped outside. He’d already lit his, taking a long, greedy drag. When he exhaled, he tilted his chin upwards, blowing the smoke above your head. You couldn’t help but sneak glances at his strong jawline, and the light blonde stubble that covered the exposed portion of his face. It was a sight you’d never seen before.

“Thanks.” You said, taking the cigarette. As you put it in your mouth, he leant forwards, until the lit tip of his cig touched yours.

Though you knew you should be focusing on lighting the cigarette, you couldn’t. Not when his face was this close to yours. The mixture of intense eye contact and glints of his sharp, exposed jawline were far too distracting.

That is, of course, until the crackling of an inviting flame drew your attention back to the task at hand. Your cigarette was lit. You were quick to lean back, away from Ghost, away from the sudden proximity. If he saw how that had made you react, he didn’t show it.

You took a drag, feeling the satisfying burn at the back of your throat. Though you were trying to hide it, you couldn’t keep your eyes away from Ghost’s mouth. The way his lips moved, the way the muscles in his jaw clenched, his shiny white teeth. It was mesmerising.

After a second, he seemed to notice, and his mouth curved up into a smirk. Your heart beat a little faster. It was strange, to be able to connect the way his eyes creased to an actual expression – the sly curve of his lips. You’d never really seen him smile before.

“You alright, Private?” Ghost asked. It threw you off guard, and you hurriedly looked away, desperate to hide how entranced you were by the small sliver of his real face. Ghost didn’t seem phased. “See something you like?”

Your breath caught in your throat. Flustered, you shook your head, adamantly.

“I’ve just… never seen it before.” You mumbled, staring awkwardly at the ground. Ghost let out a hearty chuckle. Part of you worried that he would press the issue, but he took another long drag of his cigarette, giving you a few seconds of peace.

The night had really settled in now, the last of the sun's rays having died on the horizon. It was chillier than when you’d left the car, the nippy air making you shiver a little. You folded your arms, rubbing your hands over yourself a little, hoping the friction might warm you up.

“You cold?” Ghost suddenly asked. You shrugged, trying to play it off.

“Only a little.” You admitted. “I’ll be alright.”

“Here.” Ghost held out his glass, half-full of whiskey. You knew from overhearing Soap talk that he liked bourbon. You glanced at it, unsure. He rolled his eyes, thrusting the glass towards you. “It’ll warm you up.”

You took the glass, slowly, staring at it. You’d already had tequila and vodka so far. Adding a third spirit to that mix felt like a bad idea.

However, looking weak in front of Ghost was always a worse one.

You took a gulp. The whiskey burned, the liquid flowing like fire down your oesophagus. This was strong stuff. It made you want to screw you face up in shock, and displeasure. But with your best efforts, you fought the reaction and kept it down without a grimace.

Ghost raised an eyebrow, taking the glass back. For once, he looked impressed.

“Good girl.” He murmured, softly.

Your eyes flew open in shock. Just like last time he said those words. The familiar burn of a tell-tale blush was invading your cheeks, giving away the rush of heat that flowed through you. You turned your head away, trying to hide how flustered you were. The cigarette was your only comfort, the act of taking a drag preventing you from blurting out something stupid.

“Oh.” Ghost said, his voice thick with amusement.

By the time you’d calmed down enough to look at him again, you were anxious to see that he was already watching you, eyes following your every move.

“You like that, don’t you?”

Your mouth went dry. You tried to swallow, but there wasn’t enough saliva for that.

“What?” You asked, startled. Ghost took a step closer, closing the distance between you.

“You like it. Your little face lights up every time I say it.” He took a drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke over your head again, before leaning down towards you. “You like when I call you a good girl, don’t you?”

The repetition of the word took you by surprise. It made your stomach churn.

“… I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You stammered, breaking the intense eye contact to glance at the ground. You heard Ghost chuckle. It was a smug, satisfied sound.

“Ah, not so good at keeping your cool, are you?” He goaded, the smirk evident in his tone. “And you did so well during the drinking game.”

You clamped your mouth shut, before taking a drag of your cigarette. The burn was comforting, the sensation keeping you grounded. His teasing was making a wave of arousal flow through your body, travelling down towards –

“What’s wrong, Private?” Ghost asked. Mischief danced in his eyes, daring you to tell him the truth. He took a step closer. “Thought you were good at keeping secrets.”

“Nothing is wrong!” You insisted. “I – ”

A sudden voice cut across your thoughts.

“Well, hello there, gorgeous.”

You turned, following the source of the sound, to see a man next to you. He was standing surprisingly close. You didn’t recognise him – he must be a resident of the town, a random civilian drinking in the same bar that night. He looked to be quite a few years older than you, judging by the lines around his eyes and his receding hairline.  The way he was leering at you made your skin crawl. You took a step back, instinctively.

“Oh.” You said, slightly dumbfounded. There was too much going on at once to know how to react. “Uh, hello.”

The man didn’t seem deterred by your hesitation, and he leant against the wall, cocking his head curiously at you.

“You got a boyfriend, sweetheart?” He asked, eyes flicking down, taking in your scantily clad frame. It made your stomach turn.

“Yes.” Your response was immediate – almost instinctive. This wasn’t the first time some creep had hit on you on a night out. Usually, the threat of another man’s wrath would get them to leave you alone.

Although, unfortunately, not always.

The man shook his head, reaching to take your hand. The second he made contact you yanked your own hand away in disgust. His skin felt clammy, and cold.

“Well, he doesn’t have to know, does he?” He continued, moving even closer. He was only inches away now, his foul breath hitting your face. This was starting to make you a little nervous. “Wanna have some fun with me? I can show you a good night.”

“I’m really not interested.” You said, trying to keep the nervous wobble out of your tone. The man rolled his eyes.

“Come on, don’t be a prude.” He scoffed, reaching a hand towards you.

You heard movement behind you before you saw anything. The rustle of fabric and a sharp hiss as a lit cigarette fell into the man’s pint, extinguishing immediately. He looked down at it, mouth open in shock.

An arm was suddenly around your stomach, pulling you backwards. The cigarette flew out of your hand, sizzling out as it landed in a puddle.

“Hey. Dickhead.” Ghost’s voice was barely above a growl as he moved between you, blocking the man from getting any closer. “She said no. So, fuck off.”

Ghost was squaring up to him, hackles raised, hands clenched into fists. He was a good few inches taller than the other man, who was staring up at him with wide eyes.

“Alright mate, calm down.” The creep said, his voice raising an octave.

Ghost shook his head, folding his arms tightly across his chest. You were peering around him from behind, desperate to see what was going on behind his broad torso.

“I’m not your fucking mate.” Ghost spat. “Piss off.”

“And what are you going to do, huh?” The man retorted.

Stupid move. Without a word, Ghost grabbed him by his collar, slamming him into the wall. Several of the other smokers on the patio gasped. He was getting in the creep’s face now, roughing him up a little. You were frozen. You knew you should step in. Say something. Get him to stop.

But when had Ghost ever listened to you?

“Hey!” A familiar voice called, from somewhere behind you. Price was at the door to the smoking area, cigar in hand. Behind him were the rest of the task force, who looked just as shocked as he did. “Stop it!”

In a second, you were caught in a flurry of bodies. Soap got there first, moving to Ghost’s side instantly, trying to pull him off. Then, Price and Gaz were around you, helping Soap separate them. Soap was yelling at Ghost. Ghost was protesting, trying to get them off him. Everyone was shouting at each other. Limbs were flying. It was an interlocking mass of grabbing hands. No one was paying any attention to you, caught in the middle of the mess.

“Hey, L.t, it’s not worth it!”

“ – seriously, how are you so stron – ”

“Will you pricks just fuck – ”

Then, you heard Price’s voice rise above everybody else’s, calling a single name.

“Simon!”

There was a pause. Ghost must’ve let go, because suddenly, everyone was moving apart. It gave you space to breathe, finally. You tried to crane your head around to see, but you couldn’t see the guy anymore. Clearly, he wasn’t planning on sticking around.

Suddenly, a hand was on your arm, pulling you away from the group. You turned. The sight that met your eyes was the chest of a very tall man.

“Are you alright?” König asked, clearly concerned.

You breathed a little sigh of relief, before nodding.

“Yeah. Just shaken.” You replied, your voice a little wobbly.

“Come on.” He eventually said, as he started to lead you away. By now, the smoking area was completely empty, except for the members of your squad that you left behind. The stench that wafted into your nose told you that Price had lit his cigar.

“Let’s find a quiet corner.” König said, giving your shoulder a squeeze. The two of you walked back into the bar, down the corridor with the toilets.

His grip on your arm was firm, but still careful. He was trying to be gentle with you. You ended up back to the table you’d been sat at originally. Your drink was still there, half full, but you didn’t touch it. Every girl knew better than to leave a drink unattended and then come back to it.

“I’ll get you a new drink.” König said, taking the old one off the table. In his hand, the half-pint glass looked more like a shot. It was almost comical. “What would you like?”

You shot him a grateful smile. He was so observant.

“Thanks.” You said. It took you a second to decide what you wanted. “Another vodka and lemonade is fine.”

After a moment, you held up a hand, causing König to pause.

“Make that a double.” You added, exasperatedly. The events of the night so far were already enough to to exhaust you. Alcohol would take the edge off, that’s what you needed right about now.

He let out a chuckle, and then disappeared off towards the bar. The crowd parted like the Red Sea around him, faces upturned to gawp at his size. It was easy to keep track of him, since his head was about half a foot higher than anyone else in the room.

It didn’t take long before he was making his way back, drinks in hand. He placed a tall glass in front of you. Unlike your last drink, this one came with a straw, and a little cocktail umbrella.

“Thank you.” You breathed, taking a swig immediately. After everything that happened outside, you needed it. The extra vodka gave a sour edge to the lemonade, but you embraced it.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” König asked, his brows furrowed in concern.

“Yeah. That guy was just a drunk creep. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.” You sighed, taking a sip. The hot air inside the bar was warming you back up, allowing you to relax a little.

“He deserved everything he got.” König replied, his voice surprisingly harsh. It was strange to see him angry. Not frightening, though, since it wasn’t directed at you. In a way, it was almost comforting. It felt… protective.

“Usually when I tell them I have a boyfriend, then they leave me alone.” You explained. “Not this time, I guess.”

Your words made König pause. Suddenly, he wouldn’t make eye contact, instead staring down into his beer. It only lasted for a second before he spoke, his tone noticeably subdued.

“Well, I can see how that should be a deterrent.” He responded, before taking a hearty swig of his beer. You shook your head.

“Unfortunately, men usually only respect the authority of another man.” You said. The image of angry Ghost slamming the creep into the wall crossed your mind. “I guess some aren’t smart enough to see the threat to begin with.”

König nodded, head still hung low. You frowned as you watched him, trying to work out what brought about such a sudden change in demeanour. After a second, he looked back up. His eyes were full of questions.

“And do you?” He asked, quietly. You frowned, confused.

“Do I what?”

“Have a… a boyfriend.”

Oh.

This big dumb idiot was freaking out because he thought you might have a boyfriend.

Now that was interesting.

“No.” You assured him, concentrating on keeping your tone flat, and even. You couldn’t let your thoughts show. “I just say that. As I said, it usually makes them leave me alone.”

The change in König’s demeanour was like night and day. His eyes lit up, intent and alive. He stopped slumping his shoulders and straightened up, rising to full height once more. Even though you were both sat down, you still had to look up to see his face.

“Oh. Okay. I see.” He said, his voice a little brighter. You took note of everything, like you were analysing a test subject in a study.

And the answers you were finding were… interesting. Very, very interesting.

“Would that have been a problem?” You asked, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. The alcohol was pumping through your veins now, making you feel bolder than usual.

Across the table from you, König regarded you silently for a second. As if considering what to say. Then, after a beat, he shrugged.

“We are soldiers in a war, Private.” He said, quietly. You checked around – no one was near enough the table to hear. “Your relationship choices are none of my business.”

A diplomatic answer. One that objectively gave you nothing – and yet still spoke volumes. He was avoiding the question. You knew you shouldn’t push it.

“So, why ask?” You teased, taking a sip of your drink. The vodka left a sour taste in your mouth. It should’ve been unpleasant, but the reminder that it would help you loosen up was more than enough to counteract the bitterness.

König gave you a little shrug. It was a gesture that was clearly designed to look nonchalant.

“Curiosity.” He replied, fingers tapping the side of his pint glass.

The smile on your face grew wider. You opened your mouth, ready to give him a witty response, when a sight out the corner of your eye stopped you in your tracks.

Ghost had entered the bar, coming back from the smoking area.

It didn’t take long for him to spot you. The time probably amounted to less than two seconds. As soon as he had you in his sights, he was storming over, arms tightly folded across his chest.

The shock you were feeling must’ve shown on your face, because König was leaning forwards, eyeing you up with concern.

“Oi.” Ghost suddenly said. König whipped his head around, finally following your gaze to spot your commanding officer behind him. Nerves crept up your spine. That wasn’t exactly a term of endearment. “Why’d you run off?”

You scrambled for an answer. Your mind was fast, but, as it turned out, König was faster.

“She needed space to breathe.” He spat back, matching Ghost’s tone with a similarly agitated growl. Once again, it was a little shocking to see him anything but calm or quiet.

Ghost narrowed his eyes at the Austrian, glaring like he was only just noticing his presence.

“I had everything under control. She was fine.”

“You left her in the middle of a skirmish. I wouldn’t call that control.”

This only riled up Ghost more. He unfolded his tightly crossed arms to jab a finger at the taller man. You leaned forwards to cut in, but neither of them paid any attention to you.

“She’s a soldier. She can handle herself.” Ghost retorted. König scoffed.

“You don’t even know if she was okay. You’re just guessing. Because you weren’t even looking out for her.”

Ghost leaned forwards, planting a hand on the table. His shoulders were raised and tense, like the hackles of an angry dog. König didn’t budge an inch. He stayed exactly where he was, staring Ghost down.

You cleared your throat, trying once more to get their attention. This was getting too heated. Annoyingly, neither of them seemed to notice.

“I was defending her. She didn’t need your bloody ‘help’.” Ghost said, his voice low and gravelly. König shook his head, and got to his feet. He towered over the other man, at least a head taller.

“You know what she needs?” He demanded, raising his eyebrows. “She needs – ”

You slammed your fists on the table.

Finally, they shut up and looked at you.

“Well, she is sitting right here!” You spat, letting all of the frustrating into your tone. “And she is capable of making her own fucking decisions.”

Neither of them spoke. They were both just staring at you, wide eyed.

After a second, you let out a huff, grabbing your drink. Enough of this. You came out to have fun. This was definitely not fun. If they were going to talk about you like you weren’t there, then why be there? The alcohol was starting to really hit you, and this was not the vibe you needed right now.

The bar, the bar. Your eyes scanned the room, taking in as much information as possible. Namely, looking for friendly faces. Where was… where was Soap?

Then, you spotted him. One elbow rest on the bar, a half-drunk pint raised to his lips. He was getting shots.

Perfect.

You tipped your glass, emptying the rest of it down your throat. It went down surprisingly easily. The mixture of lukewarm flat lemonade and bitter vodka wasn’t exactly pleasant, but considering everything that was going on, it felt necessary.

The way you slammed your glass back down on the table was rougher than you were expecting, but fuck it.  It seemed to keep the two giant men in front of you in stunned silence as you slid out of the booth.

Okay. Maybe you were a little drunker than you’d thought. Every movement you made felt clunky, like your limbs weren’t quite obeying you properly. As you got to your feet, you made sure to pull your dress down, self-consciously.

“I’m going to find Soap.” You declared, glancing between them. Ghost gave you no reaction at all. After a second, König nodded.

“Have fun.” He told you, quietly. Something about it felt soft. Like your outburst had dissipated his anger entirely. It made you feel a little bad, but you couldn’t back down now.

You turned on your heel and started walking, albeit a little clumsily. Soap wasn’t far away.

“I hope so.” You mumbled, mostly to yourself.

Too many thoughts were swirling around your head. You didn’t want to think about any of it anymore. You just wanted to get drunk.

Chapter Text

The music was pumping. Shitty LED party lights were spinning around the dance floor, turning the throng of dancers into a confusing mess of limbs and colours. You had a drink in one hand, and the other resting on the bar, keeping you balanced on the rickety barstool you were currently sat on. Staying upright was getting harder as time went on.

And, obviously, as Soap kept buying you both more shots.

“Look at ‘im.” Soap was saying, swaying slightly as he raised his pint to his lips. “What an eejit.”

You followed his gaze to spot Gaz stealing Price’s hat. The two of you laughed, watching the way Price turned around in confusion.

“So weird seeing Price without his hat.” You replied, still chuckling. “He looks naked.”

Soap suddenly turned back around, pointing a finger in your face.

“Are you obsessed with seeing all of us naked, or somethin’?” He jibed, amusement in his eyes. “First Ghost and the big man, now Price?”

You slapped a hand over your face, feeling the blush explode onto your cheeks. Your face felt hot. Like it was burning. Even when you closed your eyes, you could still see Soap’s mocking smirk. Dickhead.

“Stop!” You cried, shaking your head. “That wasn’t my fault.”

Soap kept laughing, slapping a hand onto the bar.

“And I don’t want to see Price naked.” You groaned.

Soap cocked an eyebrow at you, curiously. His hand ran along the sticky surface of the bar towards you, allowing him to lean a little closer.

“Oh? Not Price?” He said. “Nobody else to complain about? Who’s next, Gaz? Me?”

You reached across and slapped him on the chest, lightly. He flinched as he giggled, holding his hands up to protect himself.

“Hey! Hey!” He cried, deflecting your assault. “No fair, lass! Your tiny hands are like knives.”

“I don’t wanna see anyone naked!” You retorted, folding your arms haughtily.

“Maybe you should tell that to – ”

“No! Shut up!” You yelped, cutting over him. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

Soap clamped his mouth shut, but it didn’t wipe the shit eating grin on his face. He stared at you for a second, before his eyes wandered behind you, over your shoulder. It was incredibly tempting to turn around and see who he was looking at, but you resisted the urge. Partially because you really didn’t want to know, and mostly because you felt like you knew the answer already.

You groaned, holding your face in your hands. Carefully though, so as to not ruin your makeup. Across from you, Soap was chuckling under his breath.

“What a mess.” You mumbled, despairingly.

If the whole situation with Ghost and König was obvious enough for Soap to notice, then what about the rest of the team? Did Gaz and Price know, too? Were they all laughing about it behind your back? Hell, did the whole fucking base know? Rumour and scandal spread through that place like wildfire.

“Hey.” Soap was holding his hand out to you, peering at you carefully. You peeked out from behind your fingers. He shot you a warm smile. “D’you wanna just dance?”

You considered that, for a moment. The song that was currently blasting out of the speakers wasn’t exactly your favourite song, but it wasn’t terrible. If you could make your brain just shut up for two seconds, then a dance might not be such a terrible idea. Your eyes were fixated on the dance floor, on the people currently on it. Jumping, swaying, laughing. It was a little hypnotising, just watching how the crowd moved. The colours all seemed swirl around into one big mess.

“Come on, lass.” Soap urged. He was shaking his hand, trying to get you to take it. “Don’t make me dance by myself.”

You looked at his hand. He looked straight into your eyes.

“I mean, I’ll do it, but it’ll be sad.” He said, faking a pitiful expression.

You laughed. Then, you rolled your eyes. Finally, you let out a sigh, and took his hand.

“Fine.” You said. “But only so that you stop whining.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Soap replied, helping you off the stool. It was a good thing he did, because it was more than a little wobbly. You let him lead you to the dance floor, stumbling along behind him as he tugged you along by the hand. The floor felt like jelly under your feet, undulating and rippling with every step. Soap’s grip was firm, but not too tight. Just right. “Whatever you say.”

As the two of you reached the floor, he spun around and let go of you, starting to move. The beat was pumping through the air, running like a current under your feet in the electric atmosphere. You let yourself get absorbed in the rhythm, moving your body to the music.

It felt good. It felt freeing. You were too drunk to give a fuck what you looked like anymore, you just wanted to move. Opposite you, Soap seemed to feel the same. He was throwing his body around, limbs flying wildly around. It had the unintentional effect of clearing out a fair amount of space in the crowd for the two of you to dance in. That worked just fine for you. Fewer creeps to watch out for.

The DJ kept the hits coming, songs flowing into one another as you lost yourself in the moment. By now, the lights and the crowd were all starting to become one big background blur. Everything was getting a little warped at the edges. You kept dancing, swaying your hips and working your feet in time with the rhythm.

Soap’s face suddenly fell.

He wasn’t dancing anymore. Now he was still, and focused. He was looking down. Down at your neck.

“Woah, fuckin’ hell.” He breathed, eyes glued to your throat. “That’s a big fuckin’ bruise.”

Shit. Your choker must’ve slipped down as you danced. Your hand went up to it instantly, putting it carefully back into place.

“It’s nothing.” You insisted, shaking your head. The sooner it would heal and you could finally stop answering questions about it, the better. Soap didn’t seem convinced.

“Oh, it’s somethin’, alright.” He replied, looking at you with concern. “How come I haven’t seen that before? Where did you get that?”

You shook your head in protest. Perhaps a little too eagerly. “Nowhere!”

Soap folded his arms, staring you down. Desperate to avoid the attention, you cast your eyes across the room.

Your eyes landed on Ghost. He was talking to Price and Gaz, not far from the bar. The second you looked at him, you looked away again.

But it was too late.

Soap followed your gaze, turning around to catch sight of the lieutenant. His eyes widened. “Did… did Ghost do this to you? Is that what he did during your… sparring match?”

Panic was rising in your gut. The feeling was gripping your insides, making your chest tight. It almost made you feel nauseous. This wasn’t good. Soap shouldn’t know about this. You shouldn’t tell him anything. Your brain was running a mile a minute, but not one good excuse came to mind.

“Uh…” You said, glancing around for an escape. “Sure, yeah. Sparring match. It’s fine, really.”

Soap stayed silent for a second, raising an eyebrow. The atmosphere between you was suddenly frosty and unbearable. He didn’t believe you and you were too fucking drunk to think of the right words.

“I’m going to the toilet.” You said, turning on your heel. Soap didn’t protest, or make any attempt to catch you, as you stormed off towards the bathrooms.

The ground felt shaky underfoot. The sheer pace of your escape was making it very hard to balance. People and faces blurred by at the corners of your vision as you ducked and weaved through the swarm of drunkards in your path.

But before you knew it, you’d made it into the girl’s bathroom and slammed the door shut behind you.

Fuck.

The air inside the toilet was stale, but quiet. Sounds of the bar and the music were muffled in here, which only highlighted your heavy, panting breaths. Graffiti coated almost every surface, with messages written in all sorts of languages, written with all sorts of implements. Most common were phone numbers, which were written, burnt, and scratched into every cubicle door. You made a beeline to the sinks, which were tiny metal bowls set into sticky white countertops. Only one of them had a mirror that wasn’t either broken, vandalised, or removed entirely.

You went straight to that one, your hands gripping the sides of the sink. The cold metal provided a much-needed shock to the system, helping to keep you grounded. Nervousness still gripped your chest, constricting your airways.

The girl in the mirror looked stressed. And pretty. And drunk. For a second, it felt like you were looking at a different person entirely. You smiled at her, and she smiled back. But her smile looked fake, and absent-minded. Her eyes looked dead and unemotional, like the smile didn’t quite reach them. Her hair was a little unkempt, frizzy from the moisture in the air.

At first, you went to turn the tap on - but a noise stopped you. The music was muffled here, allowing you to hear more sounds than usual. A door opened and closed. Then, the sound of footsteps, ringing out through the corridor behind the toilet door.

“It’s you.” A Scottish voice said. Soap.

It made you jump. From the sounds of it, he was right there, on the other side of the door.

“Alright, Johnny.” Came the reply. That was Ghost. He was probably heading out for a cigarette.

“What are you doing?”

“Goin’ for a smoke.”

“No, you daft bastard.” Soap groaned. There was a shuffling of feet. “I’ve seen the bruise you made on her neck.”

Your heart leapt into your throat. For a moment, they were silent. Then came the shuffling of feet once more.

“Oh.”

“That’s all you have to say?” Soap demanded, his voice raising a little. “Come on, mate. I know you like to mess with the new recruits, but have you lost your mind?”

There was another pause. You inched closer to the door, desperate for any and every detail you might hear. It was a little shocking, to hear Soap getting angry at Ghost like this. You’d never heard it before. Usually, they were thick as thieves.

“Alright. I lost my temper a little.” Ghost replied. His voice was softer than before. That was surprising, too. You’d expected him to be angry about Soap speaking to him like that, but he didn’t sound it. He sounded… subdued. “But she’s tough. She’ll be fine.”

There was that word again. ‘Fine’. It felt weird, hearing it coming out of someone else’s mouth. Like it was somehow easier to see how fake it sounded.

“You need to screw your head back on.” Soap snapped. After a second, you heard him let out a tired sigh. “Come on. I’ll join you for your fag.”

A little wave of relief washed over you, as you heard the sound of footsteps getting quieter. They were leaving. It didn’t take long for the door to the smoking area to let out a tell-tale creak, letting you know that they’d left.

You collapsed against the door, panting heavily. It hadn’t been clear until now how you’d been on red alert for that entire conversation. All your muscles seemed to relax at once, your shoulders slumping back down to a normal height.

The room spun around you as you put your weight on the door. Fuck, you were drunk. It had been a while. The last month of being a part of 141 hadn’t left any time for partying, and now you were suffering for it. As it turned out, going shot-for-shot with someone twice your size was, in fact, a bad idea.

In the end, you were in there for a couple of minutes, just catching your breath and trying to calm your mind. Before you left you used the toilet. It felt wrong to leave without actually using it.

When you did leave, a sight to your left caught your eye. Someone was leaving the men’s at the same time.

A moment of confused scrutiny revealed it to be König. Not that it was hard to recognise him, however. His head nearly hit the doorframe on his way through.

König noticed you instantly. His eyes gleamed with recognition, before a wave of sorrow washed over them. “Hey. Private.”

You stumbled a little, as you spun to look at him. He held a hand out, as if ready to catch you at any moment.

“König!” You smiled. “Hey, big boy.”

The words came out your stupid mouth before you could stop them. He seemed a little taken aback, but regarded you with curiosity regardless.

“Big boy?” He repeated, folding his arms.

You frowned. How could he possibly not understand that? You gestured to his huge body, as if it was obviously.

“Well, you’re so big.” You explained, gesturing wildly with your arm. “And you’re… a boy.”

There was a second of silence.

“I think most people would describe me as a man.”

For some reason, you were suddenly incredibly embarrassed. Like you’d drawn attention to something you shouldn’t have.

“Probably.” You mumbled. Instantly, you were scrambling for a reason to change the conversation. “Sorry, by the way. For earlier. Yelling at you.”

The memories flooded back. How angry you were. Slamming your fists on the table. Ghost and König’s shocked expressions.

It still made you a little mad, how they’d behaved, but that didn’t feel important right now. Right now, König was standing right in front of you. And he looked… different. He was amused by your behaviour, yes, but his eyes just felt sad.

“I’m sorry for talking about you like you weren’t there.” He said. After a moment, he reached out, gently patting your head. It felt nice. “You’re drunk, Private.”

“Pfffft.” You waved a hand, dismissing what he was saying.

There was another pause. For some reason, the emptiness made you think about what was coming next. Ghost was being a dick. Soap was only going to keep asking questions. You’d definitely had enough to drink.

“Okay, yeah. I’m a little drunk.” You admitted, rubbing the back of your neck sheepishly. After a moment, you looked up at König. “Will you take me home?”

Surprise flashed in his eyes. He seemed to look down over you, taking you in properly.

“Of course.” He said, slowly nodding. “I can do that.”

König put his arm around you, his big hand resting on your shoulder. It felt a little heavy, but you weren’t about to complain. If anything, it helped you balance. That, and his touch sent little jolts of electricity running through you. Just like earlier, when he touched your thigh in the car. Only now the feeling was tenfold, your body overly sensitive to every stimuli provided to it.

He led you down the corridor, and out to the bar. The room was jumping, the revelry in full swing. Partygoers were drinking, laughing, and moving int time with the beat. To you, it looked like one big swirling mess. Your hand went to König’s chest, holding on for balance.

“Gaz.” You heard König say. Instantly, your head snapped up to look ahead. The pair of you had reached the bar, where Gaz seemed to be queuing to order another round.

“Alright, guys?” He asked. As he spoke, his expression was jovial, but his face fell when he looked down at you.

“Ah.” He said, shaking his head. He looked back up at König. “She had too much?”

“I’m taking her home.” Came the reply. Part of you knew you should be embarrassed to be holding onto König like this, but mostly you were still trying to stay on your feet. Preventing your wobbly body from colliding with the sticky floor was your biggest priority. “Tell the captain I’m taking the car.”

Gaz seemed to nod, taking in the information.

“No worries. Send it back when you’re done with it, yeah?”

There was a sound. The rustling of fabric. You hadn’t seen it, but you were pretty sure that Gaz just fist bumped König.

Then, before you even realised what was happened, König was leading you towards the door. As you neared the exit, you gave the room one last glance. It was obviously a bad idea, but you just wanted to see if you could catch sight of –

There. Across the room, in the same corner you’d sat in when you’d arrived. Price, Soap, and Ghost. He seemed to spot you at the same time.

Shit. Your heart pounded in your chest. It felt like you’d been caught with your hand in the cookie jar. He rose, as if moving to stand.

But then, without even looking at him, Soap reached out a hand and yanked him back down into the booth.

Chilly night air suddenly surrounded your body, freezing you to the bone. König had taken you out of the door, and into the night. It was time to go home.

-

“Thank you again.” König was saying, to the soldier driving the vehicle. You were already outside of it. Shivering your tits off, as you waited for König to get a bloody move on. He slapped the side of the car twice, before the engine rumbled to life and it moved, heading back out of the base.

“I’m f-f-freezing.” You stammered, the cold making your teeth chatter.

König wrapped an arm around you, leading the both of you towards the barracks. “Let’s get you inside.”

Having his arm around you felt sort of invigorating. Or maybe that was the cold. Regardless, there was a little pep in your step as you crossed the car park, and König pushed open the door for you.

“Thank you.” You smiled, slipping inside.

The air inside the barracks was warmer than outside, but not exactly toasty. The harsh fluorescent lights inside the sterile corridor were blinding, shining white light into your eyes. Thankfully, it was also empty, meaning no one was there to see you in this state.

Once you were both through the door, König’s arm was wrapped around your shoulder again, helping you to walk in a straight line. It only took a few steps before a memory came to mind, making you giggle.

“Are you wearing your Batman boxers again?” You asked, giving him a little nudge with your elbow.

König let out a noise that was somewhere between a sigh, and a chuckle.

“No. Sorry to disappoint you.” He replied, shaking his head.

Your mind lingered on the thought of König in his underwear. The image of his nearly naked frame was plastered all over your mind’s eye. The way his body flexed as he moved. How he had grabbed his crotch to adjust his seating position. His fucking arms. A small wave of heat ran down to your crotch.

“You’ll have to show me the ones with the Joker on sometime.” You jibed, casting him a side eye. He raised his eyebrows at you.

“You’re drunk, Private.”

“Only a little. Don’t you want to show me them?”

“What I want is to get you back to your room, safe and sound.”

Suddenly you stopped walking and spun, poking a finger to König’s chest.

“What you want is to know if I have a boyfriend.”

König stared down at you for a second, his arms tightly folded. The silence was so loud you could’ve heard a pin drop. It felt like years passed before he spoke. Part of you started to regret what your big stupid mouth had blabbed out.

“Yes, I did.” He said, his voice calm, and even. “My wife kept asking about it.”

Something in your stomach dropped. His what?

“Your… your wife?” You asked, shock and confusion leaking into your tone.

There was another beat. Then, König chuckled, his eyes looking smug.

“Does that bother you?”

“No.”

“Uh huh.”

Stunned, and embarrassed, you turned heel and started looking around for your room. Shame burned your cheeks, as images of König’s arm around you crossed through your mind. He had a wife? This whole time?

“Well, Private.” König said, clapping a hand on your shoulder. He was probably going to point out your room, and send you to bed. Leaving you reeling. Gobsmacked.

… Disappointed.

“Now you know how it feels.” König suddenly said.

Your heart skipped a beat.

“Wait.”

“Yes?”

“… You were messing with me, weren’t you?”

Now, König was laughing. His body was doubled over, a hand resting on his leg for balance. All the while you were staring at him, wide eyed, searching for answers.

“I’m so sorry.” He chuckled. “I just wanted to see how you’d react.”

Relief flooded your veins. It was like something flipped a switch to turn a storm into a sunny sky. You let out a long breath, staring at the ceiling. He really got you with that one. That bastard.

“Holy shit.” You breathed, your mouth twisting into a smile. König was only just recovering from bouts of laughter, slowly regaining his composure.

“It was worth it. Mein Gott, your little face.” He chuckled.

“Fuck you.” You shook your head, laughing with him a little, now. After a second, you finally caught sight of the door to your room, just a few feet away. You made your way over, holding onto the wall for support.

When you turned, König was stood right there. He raised an eyebrow, looking down at you.

There was a moment’s pause between you. The laughter faded into soft smiles. Your fingers went to your hair, nervously twiddling a strand.

“So, this is me.” You said, quietly.

He nodded. “You need to go to bed.”

Silence. You cocked an eyebrow, glancing between him, and the door.

“Do you want to come in?”

More silence.

Tense, excruciating silence.

For a second, he leant forwards. Looking at you. Looking at your door. Looking back down at you.

Then, something changed in his eyes, and he stepped back.

“You’re drunk, Private.” He said, finally. “You should sleep.”

You let out a breath. It took a long time for you to nod, turning away from him.

“Yeah. Probably.” You said, unlocking the door. Once you were inside the room, you glanced back at König, giving him a little wave.

“Alright. Goodnight, König.”

His eyes creased into a small smile.

“Goodnight, Schatz.”

Wait.

Had you heard that correctly? Did he just called you –

“Pardon?” You asked, desperate for him to repeat himself.

But instead, he looked startled by your question, and hurriedly turned around.

“I said goodnight, Private.” He was already walking away, his long strides allowing him to cover a great distance very quickly. “And drink some water!”

At first, you watched him go. Every line of the conversation replayed in your head at once, like a very loud movie that you couldn’t turn off. He didn’t look back, confidently turning a corner at the end of the hallway.

Eventually, you went back into your room.

Various memories flashed across your mind's eye. Playing never have I ever with the boys. Ghost flirting, as you shared a cigarette. The way that creep made you feel. Yelling at Ghost and König. Dancing with Soa –

Your foot slipped. The ground flew upwards. You caught yourself on your hands and knees, skin slapping the cold floor. Except for your left knee. That had landed on something… soft.

As soon as you looked down, it was immediately apparent as to why you’d fallen. Ghost’s scarf was wrapped around your leg.

“Oh, shit.” You murmured, spinning around to sit down. How had that gotten there? You were sure it had been tucked away somewhere.

Instinctually, you unwound the scarf from your leg and took it into your hands. It was just as soft and warm as you remembered, as you folded it neatly back up.

Then, you paused. Before you even knew what you were doing, the scarf was raised up to your face, your nose buried into the material.

You took a long, deep sniff, breathing in the smell. The scent of smoke and sandalwood and Ghost.

It smelt… so good.

Wait.

What?

In an instant, you reeled back, shaking your head. What were you doing?

You got to your feet. Paced a couple of steps. Looked back down at the scarf.

Finally, you threw it angrily onto your dresser, and collapsed into bed.

Chapter Text

It was the sound of a slamming door, somewhere down the corridor, that woke you up. The noise echoed through the hallway, bouncing off the concrete walls. It startled you back into consciousness, your eyes flying open.

For a second, you didn’t know where you were or what time it was. Why was it still dark? Had you even remembered to set an alarm?

A quick check of your phone told you that it was just after 1AM. Thank god. Part of you had been worried that you’d slept all the way through till the next evening. That would’ve been a disaster. After your phone, your hand went to the water bottle sitting on your bedside table, greedily slurping down half the bottle in one go. It was like heaven for your dry, scratchy throat.

Fuck, that was better. You kept drinking, until it was nearly empty. Even then, you still weren’t satisfied. Your body craved more. You’d have to refill it for that.

And so slowly, reluctantly, you dragged yourself out of bed. The sliders came on first. Then, a big hoodie. There was absolutely no way you were going to walk all the way down to the bathroom in nothing but your pyjamas shorts and t-shirt.

Water bottle? Check.

Room key? Check.

You unlocked your door and slowly pulled it open, bracing yourself for the cold air in the corridor.

But the second you opened it, you stopped.

Someone was right outside your door, their back facing you. As if in the moments before you opened it, they had only just turned around to walk away.

But even though you were looking at the back of this person’s head, you recognised them instantly. Black hoodie, with the hood drawn up. Cargo pants tucked into combat boots.

And as he turned around, your heart started pumping.

It was Ghost.

Fear shot through your veins like ice. The last time he had shown up at your door in the middle of the night, it had been a terrifying interaction.

Surprisingly though, his eyes were wide. He seemed to stare at you for a second, like he couldn’t believe you were there.

“Oh. Private.” He said, dumbly. Like he wasn’t just stood right outside your door. “Wasn’t expecting you to be awake.”

Your throat went dry.

“I wasn’t. A door just slammed and woke me up.” You replied, slowly. After a second, you looked up and down the corridor. It was empty, but half the squad were only a mere wall away. It felt risky to be talking to him at such a late hour, where someone might see.

There were a few seconds of pause. You’d been expecting Ghost to be angry. But he didn’t look angry. A single hand went to his face, rubbing his eyes. It made his eye-black smear a little, smudging into the lines around his eyes.

“You know, last time you showed up in the middle of the night like this, you really scared me.” You mumbled.

Ghost remained silent for another long moment. Eventually, he shook his head. His eyes seemed to be everywhere except on you.

“I didn’t think you would wake up.” He muttered, shaking his head. “Fuck, I’m drunk.”

That didn’t do anything to ease your nerves. If anything, it made them a little worse. You were still drunk too, and a drunk Ghost was an unpredictable Ghost.

Suddenly, Ghost’s head snapped up to look at you. His eyes wandered from your face, to the spot just over your shoulder. The only slither of your room that he could see, through the slightly open door.

“I just had to know.” He said, softly. His brows were creased into a sad frown. “I had to know that he wasn’t still here. That he didn’t… I mean, that you two didn’t…”

He trailed off.

What?

Your jaw practically fell open. Eyes widened. Disbelief filled every crevice of your brain. Did Ghost actually care about who you took to your bed? After all this time, might there actually be a human behind the mask?

“He’s not here.” You confirmed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Something that looked awfully similar to relief washed over Ghost. He visibly relaxed a little, his shoulders falling an inch or two. As he took a couple of deep breaths, he checked the corridor, making sure no one was around to witness. Still empty.

Then, he turned back around to you. “Look, can I just come in?”

You froze for a second. Unsure. Last time you let him in, he took advantage of the confined space.

Ghost sighed.

“I’m not gonna hurt you.” He said. “I just don’t want to get caught.”

For once, he seemed genuine. And he made a good point. This last thing you needed right now was for someone to see you talking to your commanding officer past midnight, whilst you were both drunk.

But his words made a question spring to mind.

“Does that mean you came here with the intention to hurt me, last time?” You hissed.

Ghost looked almost taken aback. Then, he softened.

“No.” He sighed. You waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. You supposed that his overheard conversation with Soap earlier told you all you needed to know.

After a second you nodded, stepping aside to let him in.

“Alright.” You said, slowly. “Come in.”

He entered your room, stepping behind you into the darkened space beyond. Turning around and seeing him standing there in your private space made your chest tighten. It was a sight you’d seen before, and it had dire consequences last time.

But, you ignored your instincts and closed the door. Flicked the lock. Turned around and leant against it, arms folded. Watching and waiting, for whatever was going to come next.

Ghost seemed to do a quick check of your room, his attention moving from dark corner to dark corner. An ingrained habit from decades of training, probably. He looked like a guard dog, checking that the coast was clear. His eyes seemed to linger for a moment on his scarf, still strewn across the top of your dresser, but he didn’t make a comment. Once he was satisfied, he turned back to you.

Another pause. More unbearable silence.

“I tried to stay away from you.” Ghost said, eventually. “After last time, I mean.”

You stared at him, trying to find answers in his eyes. His brows were knitted into a frown. It was hard to pick out any definitive emotions in the low lighting. He looked down at himself, and then your room.

He chuckled, half-heartedly. “I’m not very good at that, I guess.”

You had so many questions. He wasn’t behaving like himself, and it felt like maybe for once, you could finally get answers. Answers from the man that you knew almost nothing about.

“Why not?” You asked, finally finding your voice. The tension in the room felt thick, like a palpable thing you could feel.

Ghost shook his head.

“I need to keep you safe.” He replied, flatly. “That means keepin’ an eye on you.”

Things started to click into place. Ghost showing up wherever you were. Mentioning things about you that he had no way of knowing. Having access to your schedule, and the CCTV on his phone.

Your eyes darted to the upper corners of your room, searching for cameras. Nothing.

“How long have you been keeping an eye on me?”

Ghost paused. When he spoke, he didn’t look at you.

“Four weeks.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You’d been in 141 for four weeks. This had been going on the whole time?

“So, what, you’ve been stalking me?” You asked, your tone indignant and nervous. His boots made a scuffling sound as he recoiled.

“No.” He shook his head, seemingly exasperated. “I’ve been keeping you safe.”

In front of you, Ghost looked around the room once more. His gaze lingered on your bed for several seconds. You opened your mouth, trying to formulate a reply, but Ghost got there first.

“He’s not here.” He nodded, almost to himself.

“Uh, yeah.” You replied, raising an eyebrow. “I told you that already.”

The implication that he didn’t believe you – that he believed you might’ve lied to him and felt the need to look for himself, was infuriating. He didn’t need to baby you like this. You were an adult, for fucks sake.

“I know.” He groaned, rubbing his face again. “But I just had to see for myself.”

After a moment, he turned to you. In comparison to the furniture in your room, his size was more apparent than ever. The space fit you perfectly. Ghost looked out of place in it.

“Why, because you don’t trust him? Or because you don’t trust me?” You demanded, haughtily.

Ghost took a step towards you. Initially, it made you afraid. But after a second, you realised that he still didn’t look angry. Even though you were actively mouthing off. That was a little surprising – though you obviously weren’t going to question it.

“He let you get hurt. You were on crutches.” He said, his voice cracking slightly.

“It’s my responsibility to look after myself.”

“He knew where those mines were.”

“Enough, Ghost!” You waved a hand, frustrated. He sounded like a broken record, and you’d had enough of it. This was getting you nowhere. “I don’t want to talk about him. He’s not here. You are. I am.”

Ghost paused. It made you nervous, but not in the same way as before. The low amber light was glinting off the left side of his face, glinting off the tiny patch of his skin you could see. He took another step. By now, the two of you were mere feet away. Within reaching distance.

Something in his eyes fell. For a moment, he looked… sad, almost. It was not an emotion you’d ever seen on his face before. Part of you felt lucky, just to experience it.

“I didn’t mean…” He began a sentence that he cut off, sharply. Instead of jumping down his throat and demanded answers – like you wanted to – you waited. Leant against the door. Silent.

He let out a sharp breath. Eyes glued to the floor.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Something inside you softened. He didn’t look intimidating, or dangerous now. He looked like a dog with its tail between its legs.

You bit your lip, unsure of what to say.

“But you did.”

Ghost moved closer, putting his hand on the door behind you. Your faces were inches apart now, the two of you staring into each other's eyes. His gaze wandered downwards for a moment. Resting on your neck.

“I know.” Ghost sighed. “Look, I… I’m sorry. I lost myself.”

Your breathing was a little faster now, carefully drawn breaths turning into gasps for air. A single drop of sweat was making its way down your back, reminding you of the churning uncertainty that filled your core. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. Impossible to know what he might do next.

“Thank you for apologising.” You said, softly.

Ghost reached a hand up. You flinched, assuming that he was going for your neck. The second you reacted negatively, he yanked his hand away. A few moments passed. Then, he brought his hand up again – much slower, this time.

You took a deep breath, willing yourself to stay still. His hand went to your face, gently cupping your cheek. This kind of touch felt alien, coming from Ghost. He was a killing machine. He could win a staring match with death. You’d seen countless videos throughout your training of him ripping his enemies apart.

And now, his fingers cradled the side of your face, his thumb running gently over your chin.

“Look, I didn’t want to…” He glanced down. His eyes flicked to your lips, and then back up again. He let out a little breath. It felt hot on your face. “I didn’t want to do this without asking.”

You gazed up at him. Barely daring to breathe. Barely able to speak.

“Asking what?” You whispered.

He seemed to brace himself, swallowing hard.

“Can I kiss you?”

Your heart stopped. Everything clicked into place.

“Oh.” Was the only word you could say. The only sound your dry, parched throat could make. The only word left in your brain.

Ghost recoiled, alarm and disappointment plastered all over his face. “Forget it. Just forget it.”

“No, no.” You assured him, leaning forwards to close the distance. “I didn’t say no, Ghost.”

He stared at you. Alert. Wide eyed. Hopeful.

“Wait. You mean…?”

No more words. You grabbed the front of his hoodie, pulling him close. The last thing you saw before you closed your eyes was Ghost’s spare hand, pulling the bottom of his mask up.

Then, finally, the two of you collided in a kiss.

His lips against yours, arms around your waist, body pressed against you. One of your hands gripped his shoulder. The other went around the back of his neck, pulling him in close. His balaclava rode up a little, allowing you to feel the bottom of his hairline just a touch. Something about it drove you wild. Heat burned in your crotch, eager for more.

It was like a fairytale. Butterflies flittered inside your stomach and fireworks shot dazzling colours in your mind. Every touch felt electric. Addictive. Alive.

The moment could’ve lasted all night. His grip around your waist was tight, and needy. Like he might never let you go again. Part of you didn’t want him to. You could stay right here.

But, it wasn’t perfect forever. As he pressed his mouth firmly against yours, your mind was spinning. A million thoughts, a million worries. What about your job? He was your commanding officer. And he did hurt you.

But the last one was the most prominent of all. What about König?

His hand went from your cheek to your hair, gently gently running his fingers through it. It made your scalp tingle. You kissed him firmly, one last time, savouring the moment for another couple of seconds.

Then, you loosened your grip, leaning back. He got the message and pulled away. His mask was put back in place immediately, hiding the tiny visible sliver of his face.

Both of you were breathing, hard. Staring at each other in silence.

“You’re my commanding officer.” You eventually whispered, your chest rising and falling with every breath. He gave your cheek one last stroke, before retracting his hand. It separated the two of you once more.

“Yeah.” He nodded. His eyes kept flicking between yours, and your lips.

You shook your head, burying your face in your hands. What were you doing? König was right. You were drunk. You should be in bed, asleep. Not snogging your commanding officer in secret.

“You should go.” You breathed.

Ghost froze for a moment. Then, his eyes fell. He nodded, letting out a long sigh. Every movement he made was slow, careful. Hesitant.

“If that’s what you want.” He replied.

You shook your head.

“Not what I want.” You admitted, rubbing the back of your neck. Ghost’s attention snapped right back up to you, intrigue burning behind his expression. You resisted the urge to melt underneath his gaze. “But it’s what’s right.”

He nodded again, taking in the information. Calculating. Considering. Eventually, conceding.

He took a step back. It gave you room to breathe. Finally. You moved aside, giving him access to the door. His hand went to the handle, gripping it so hard his knuckles were white.

“I guess I’ll see you at breakfast.” He said, questions still burning in his eyes.

You gave him a single nod.

“Goodnight, Ghost.”

He reached out slowly, touching your chin lightly. Drawing your face up to look at him. You let him, staring up into his eyes.

“Goodnight, Private.”

Ghost closed the door softly as he left, leaving you standing there. Speechless, confused, and alone.

Chapter Text

The nausea hit you first. Then it was the light, streaming into bleary, sleepy eyes. You cringed, aching to crawl back into bed and fall back asleep. But sadly, you knew you couldn’t. If you missed breakfast, there would be questions, and you wouldn’t get any food until lunch.

And so, with heavy bones and a heavier heart, you heaved yourself upright. Your stomach turned as you did so, making you feel ill. Your hand went to the bottle of water in your bedside table, desperate for a sip.

It was then that the memories came. Playing never have I ever. Nearly revealing way too much. König taking you home. You inviting him into your room. And Ghost.

Oh, fuck.

You crumpled in response, holding your head in your hands. Every second of the urgent, needy kiss with Ghost blasted through your brain like a bullet through drywall. It filled every sense, like an imprint of his touch was etched into your brain. The way his lips felt on yours. The way his hands ran over you, through your hair. The way he tasted. The way he smelled.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Nope. The thoughts got shoved to the back of your mind as you practically sprang out of bed. You shouldn’t have done that. You knew as you were doing it that it was a bad idea.

And now you were going to have to go to breakfast and pretend everything was normal. You were going to have to look him in the eyes and act like nothing had happened.

… Fuck.

The towel was the first thing you grabbed. It was hung up on the radiator like always, ready for it’s next use. Your sliders came next. They were cheap, plastic things that didn’t fit your feet properly – but they did provide a layer of separation between your bare feet and the gross bathroom floor, so they did the trick. Finally, your bag of toiletries.

And so, you got ready. Showered first, desperately trying to scrub off the feeling of your commanding officer’s hands all over you. Glanced at the toilet a couple times, teetering on throwing up. But in the end, you managed to keep it all in. What a relief. After that, you got dressed. On days like this, you could get away with your most casual, comfiest fatigues. The ones with the little holes on the hemlines, the fabric worn down from overuse. Most of the officers had the decency to look the other way once in a while.

The corridors were empty as you made your way to the mess hall. It wasn’t unusual for a Sunday morning. People were eager to eat on weekends, because they were the only days the the kitchen made a proper fry up. The lads loved it. You knew that the second you entered, Soap and Gaz would already have plates piled high with as much meat and grease as their bodies could handle.

Today, you needed something plain. Easy for your stomach to handle. And water. Lots and lots of water.

When you entered the mess hall and joined the lunch queue, that’s exactly what you got. A couple slices of toast, and some fruit. Nothing too complex, since the nausea was still present in your stomach, keeping you on edge.

After grabbing your food, you got about three steps into the room before Soap was on his feet, calling you over. How did he not have a hangover?

“Hey, sleeping beauty!” He yelled. The sheer volume of his voice caused several new recruits to turn around. You gritted your teeth. “Finally got out of bed, eh?”

Embarrassment was already burning your cheeks as you went to sit with them. Soap, Gaz and Price were all gathered on a table near the centre of the room. Each of them had a full plate of food – just as you’d suspected they would. Though, unlike the other two, the captain’s plate had more fruit and pastries than fried food.

Your tray was placed roughly on the table with a clatter. The glass of water went to your lips instantly, the liquid running down your throat and re-hydrating your sickly insides.

Across the table, Soap was eyeing you with amusement.

“Looks like someone couldn’t handle all that tequila.” He jibed. You shook your head, taking a measly bite of the toast. Nausea reared its head inside you like a big ugly beast.

“Shut up.” You mumbled, weakly. A rumbling chorus of chuckles rang out around you.

Soap leaned across the table, ruffling your hair playfully. You shied away from his touch, the quick movement making your head spin.

“Ah, you’ll learn.” He nodded. “Next time I won’t go so easy on ‘ya.”

This only served to illicit an exasperated groan from you. “No way. They taught us about peer pressure in school, you know.”

“I’d thank you not to lead my soldiers astray, Sergeant.” Price suddenly cut in, taking a swig of his coffee. Though his words sounded like a reprimand, there was a twinkle of amusement in his eyes that gave away his lack of seriousness. “There’s still a war going on, you know.”

They continued chatting as you tried to force some food down. Most of it was jokes and banter about their various shenanigans from the night before. They let you fade into sickly silence, concentrating only on refuelling your body.

Suddenly, a hand touched your shoulder. You looked up, to see a huge figure towering over you. König.

“Good morning, Private.” He beamed. Now, your stomach wasn’t churning because you were hungover. It was churning with guilt.

You rose to your feet, standing up and pushing away from the table. Whatever he was going to say to you, it was clear that it was not a conversation for your squadmates and captain to listen in on. He seemed to follow your lead, and as you moved over to the corner of the room, he came with you.

“Morning, König.” You replied, your voice coming out haggard and tired. König let out a little chuckle.

“I told you that you were too drunk.” He laughed. “Is someone paying for it now?”

You held your face in your hands. Memories of gleefully asking to see his underwear came back to you. And inviting him into your room. Oh, god.

“I do not feel good.” You groaned. Maybe the ground would open you up and swallow you right here. Maybe.

“Awww.” He cooed, playfully. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

You shook your head, looking up at him through the cracks in your fingers. He had his arms folded, eyes full of mirth.

“How are you so chipper?”

“I am Austrian. Some of us know how to handle our alcohol.”

“Ugh.”

You took another couple of deep breaths. König simply waited patiently, watching you catch your breath. After a second, you knew you had to say something.

“Look, anything I said last night…”

König shook his head, holding a hand out to cut you off. It made you pause, stopping right in the middle of your sentence.

“Everything is fine. Don’t worry about it.”

You shook your head. Maybe a little too violently. He had no idea what he was saying. Flashes of the drunk, needy kiss with Ghost ran laps in your brain. Everything was definitely not fine.

“No, König, seriously, I – ”

He put a hand on your shoulder, bending down a little. From behind his sniper’s hood, his eyes were starting warmly into yours. You gulped, snapping your mouth shut.

“Private. Listen to me.” He said, his voice soft, and quiet. “Everything is fine.”

As he spoke, something behind him caught your eye. A tall, broad man with the hood of his hoodie drawn up, standing next to a table covered with kettles and coffee pots. A man wearing a balaclava, with a skull painted on it.

For fuck’s sake.

Ghost’s flat, emotionless eyes met yours, instantly. They flicked to König. Back to you. He gave a single, minuscule pump of his eyebrows.

Then, he turned away, looking back down at the kettle.

Your attention returned to König.

“… Right.” You nodded, trying hard to keep your emotions off your face. “Everything is… fine.”

König let out another laugh. His hand went to your head, ruffling your hair slightly. It felt huge, in comparison to your scalp.

“You need to recover quickly.” He said, a slight goading tone in his voice. “Or you’re going to be miserable on our patrol later.”

Your heart sunk. The patrol.

In your haste to let loose, you’d forgotten that you had actual responsibilities today. That included a late night patrol of the base’s perimeter, with König. Only with König. The two of you were going to be completely alone for hours. How the fuck were you going to manage to not tell him about what happened?

“Oh, fuck.” You groaned, slapping a hand to your forehead. “I forgot about that.”

König shook his head, tutting a little.

“Rookie mistake.”

At that comment, you folded your arms indignantly.

“Rookie? I’ve been in 141 longer than you have!”

König fixed you with a solid glare.

“I was a colonel before I came here. What were you?”

“… Whatever.”

With that, you waved a hand at him and turned on your heel to leave. Now that you were thinking about the patrol, your other responsibilities were coming to mind. You needed to go to the gym, and make sure that you had clean uniforms for the week ahead. You also needed to –

Fuck. What time was it?

You checked your phone. 9:26. Shit.

In exactly four minutes, you were due at the gun range for a practice session. A session that you’d booked in yourself, a few days ago. Since the gun range was across the base, if you didn’t set off now, then there was no way you’d make it.

And so, without a second thought to the remains of your breakfast, you made a beeline for the door.

Chapter Text

When you got there, the gun range was empty. Not that that was unusual, for a weekend. Most people booked their practice session during the week, in between training exercises. You’d fallen behind, after the injury had kept you bed-bound for the best part of a week. That meant playing catch up.

And so here you were, loading up an M4 assault rifle. Your favourite kind of assault rifle. It had less recoil than the guns that the boys used. That made it easier for you to control. Since you were usually holed up in a quiet spot, sniping from across the field, you had the least practice with guns like this. It wasn’t often that you founded yourself charging across the field.

But recent events had driven you to want that practice. Kortac were coming. You needed to be ready for them.

The range was a long concrete room. The side nearest the door had a few desks and racks in the wall, all laden with weaponry. Empty bullet casings were littered across the floor. Occasionally you’d kick one, and it would be sent skittering across the stone, sending up little sparks as it did so. Probably something you should report to the rangemaster. The last thing you needed to get in trouble for something you didn’t do.

There were three different bays to shoot from, each with a small platform to rest on. All at different heights. You chose the one furthest to the left. It had the lowest shelf, which was the only one you could comfortably rest on.

“Alright.” You murmured to yourself, readying the M4.

The small area you were stood in was probably less than a quarter of the room. The rest was nearly empty, save for three dummies with targets on their chests. Each was on a rail, a different distance away.

One deep breath. Safety switched off. Eye to the scope. A quick squeeze of the trigger.

BANG!

One more breath.

BANG BANG BANG!

All three dummies now had freshly burned holes in their fronts. You’d managed to hit the closest one right in the face. The mid-range dummy had a splattering of holes in the chest. The further one away had just couple of bullets in its shoulder.

Not bad. Not perfect, but not bad. You lowered the gun for a moment, catching your breath.

“You know, to hit a far away shot with a gun like that you need to stand up straighter.” A voice said.

“What the fuck?” You instantly cried, jumping out of your skin.

The voice came from behind you. To say that the suddenness of it scared the shit out of you would be an understatement. You spun around, gun raised instinctively.

After a moment, a figure stepped out of the shadows. They had their arms held up high.

“Woah, woah.” Ghost said, shaking his head. “Careful where you point that thing.”

Relief ran through you, relaxing your muscles all at once. Straight away, you put the gun down on a nearby bench. Then, you straightened up, arms tightly folded.

“You should know better than to sneak up on someone with a loaded gun in their hands.” You remarked, exasperatedly.

Ghost shrugged. “Didn’t sneak up on you. I was already here.”

That stopped you in your tracks for a moment. Then, fragments of memories from last night came back to you. Particularly, his comment that he felt like he had to keep an eye on you. Did he have access to your schedule?

Oh, yeah. He was the lieutenant. He probably did.

“You are stalking me.” You retorted. The words came out cattier than you were intending them to, but they slipped out before you could stop them.

For a moment, the room fell silent. At first, it felt like an admission of guilt. Then you saw the look in Ghost’s eyes. He was staring at you. Intensely.

“I thought we should talk.” He replied, coolly. “After… what happened.”

You felt yourself bristling. The way he danced around the subject made you a little mad. He was going to show up in the middle of the night, ask to kiss you, and then couldn’t even admit it the next morning? What a coward.

“After we kissed, you mean.” You corrected him, haughtily.

Ghost’s eyes went wide. He glanced left and right, his head moving to and fro.

“Fucking hell.” He grumbled. “Tell the whole base, why don’t you?”

You almost slapped a hand to your face. Of course. The cameras in this room might have microphones on them.

… Hopefully not, though.

“Oh.” You said, a little sheepishly. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“You cannot let anyone know.” He pressed, pointing a finger at you.

It was hard not to roll your eyes. As if you didn’t know that already. Weren’t you the one that pointed this out last night?

“Of course.” You nodded. “I mean, you’re my commanding officer.”

There was another pause.

The two of you stared at each other for a moment. In reality, he was fairly close to you. But in your head, it felt like he was miles away. You had no clue what was going on in his head. Or what he might say next.

After what felt like forever, he sighed.

“One of us would get reassigned. Maybe both.”

You swallowed hard, and nodded. He wasn’t wrong. For a superior officer to fraternise with a subordinate? You couldn’t think of a bigger scandal, or an easier way to get sent straight home. The gossip-starved busy-bodies in this place would have a field day.

The thought sent a shiver down your spine.

“Ugh.” You groaned, holding your head in your hands. “This was a mistake.”

The sound of shuffling feet made you look up, peeking out from behind your fingers. Ghost had a single eyebrow raised.

“That bad, am I?” He quipped.

“You hurt me.” You retorted, coldly. You knew you couldn’t let him get a rise out of you. Not right now. Just like last night, this felt like a rare moment that you might actually get the truth out of him, for once.

Ghost stared at you for a moment. Then, he looked down.

“It’s one of my regrets.” He said, softly. Something about his shrunken posture made you believe him – but that only made you angrier. He didn’t get to scare you like that and then play the victim.

“Well, you can add last night to that list, I’m sure.” You replied, snappily.

After a long moment, Ghost finally looked back up at you. His eyes looked weary.

“Last night will never be on that list.”

For a second, your heart fluttered. Then, you cursed yourself, silently. What were you thinking? He made you feel small. Weak. Afraid.

“Well, maybe I’ll add it to mine.”

“Christ, Private. What do you want me to say, that I’m sorry?”

“Yes!” You found yourself shouting, raising your voice at him. As you stomped forwards, he took a step back. For once, he actually seemed startled. “I’d like to hear you say it at least once.”

“Alright!” Ghost retorted, his voice slightly raised in response. In a flash, he was defensive – shoulders raised, hands gesturing wildly. Then, he seemed to soften. “Alright. I’m sorry.”

Seconds passed. You took a breath. Then another. Part of you felt satisfied. You’d finally gotten an apology out of him. Wasn’t that what you wanted?

So many different feelings bubbled up inside you. It wasn’t that easy to know what you wanted, anymore.

“I’m not going to talk about him. I know you don’t like it.” Ghost said, suddenly. The distance between you got smaller as he took a slowly step forwards. You were alone, but there were cameras in the room. And a big, loaded gun on the bench to your right. Ghost kept talking. “But I just want you to be careful. Okay?”

Something about that surprised you. He’d actually remembered what you’d said last night. But it wasn’t enough, and you didn’t let up. He didn’t deserve it yet.

“Is that an order, Lieutenant?”You spat back.

Ghost paused. Something in his eyes fell.

“No.” He replied, softly. “Not an order. I’m not speaking as your commanding officer right now.”

It was hard to stay angry when he wasn’t giving you anything to get riled up about. In a way, it almost felt like he was conceding. And you might’ve believed that – if Ghost wasn’t the one saying it.

“What are you speaking as, then?” You asked, breath catching in your throat. Ghost sighed, his eyes briefly glancing down at the floor.

“Just a man.” He replied, softly.

It felt weird to watch him behave like this. Ghost wasn’t just a man. He was a killing machine, a commander, a weapon. The notches in his bedpost were not for romantic conquests.

And he had way more notches than you’d ever hope to have.

“I can handle myself. I’m capable.” You said, jabbing a finger at him. He nodded, still not looking up at you.

“I believe you.” He said.

But… did he?

Could he really let go of control? This was the guy that had once gotten angry at you for being alone with König for eight minutes.

It was unclear. For now, it certainly looked like he believed what he was saying. But, as ever, it was impossible to tell.

“If König turns out to be some evil maniac, then you can say I told you so.” You suddenly said. Ghost’s ears seemed to prick up at the mention of the other man’s name, his head shooting upwards to look at you. “But until then, you’re just going to have to trust me.”

Ghost took a second. The silence was palpable. This was maybe too bold, maybe pushing a boundary that you weren’t meant to push. But, just like last night, he seemed to let you. It was an opportunity you couldn’t resist.

Eventually, he sighed.

“So it seems.” He muttered. His posture straightened again, putting him at full height. Something about the way his chest puffed up made him look awfully defensive. Protective, almost. “But the second he steps out of line, I’m putting him in his place. Got that?”

You nodded. You couldn’t say fairer than that. If Ghost was right about König, then you’d deal with that when you got to it.

Something inside, something deep down, told you that he wasn’t. He couldn’t be.

“Deal.”

Ghost nodded. His eyes returned to the gun.

“Remember, stand up straight.”

You gave him a single nod. With that, he turned around and left.

For a moment, you were still, silent. Processing. Images ran through your brain. The gloating look in his eyes when he had his hand around your throat. The feeling of his lips on yours. The rush. His fingers running through your hair. How his strong arms felt, wrapped tightly around you. Then, faces of the squad. Of your coworkers on base. What their reactions might be.

Then, eventually, you let out a long sigh, and picked up the gun again.

Chapter Text

The rest of the day consisted of doing your duties whilst fighting off nausea. It took until the evening before you were doing even slightly better. Even then, it wasn’t until you woke up from your nap that you felt normal again.

But, thankfully, once you did wake up from your nap, it had eased. Your stomach had finally settled, allowing you to scarf down a couple of snacks in the armoury without issue, before you’d set out for the meeting point for the patrol. It felt really good to finally have some proper food inside of you. Food that didn’t threaten to come back up again immediately, anyway.

The sustenance was a particular comfort given the heavy weight that you were carrying on your back. Full tac gear was no joke. The M4 assault rifle you were carrying was the exact same make that you’d practised with earlier – and yet now, in the middle of the night after a long nap, it felt ten times heavier.

König had already been waiting for you, leaning against the east gate of the perimeter fence. As you approached, he pushed away from the wall, rising to full height. His head practically brushed against the barbed wire that ran along the top of it.

“Good evening, Private.” He smiled, upon your approach. You gave him a weary nod.

“Evening.” You replied. As you spoke, you kept moving. After all – both of you were there now. No point wasting time. May as well start patrolling.

König seemed to pick up on this and fell into step beside you. The two of you walked, boots crunching on the frozen leaves underfoot. Winter had really settled in now, frost coating everything in a glinting, silver glow. As you breathed, your breath was visible, curling like smoke.

A mental map of the base was clear in your mind’s eye, as you began the patrol. It was simple, really – all you had to do was walk along this long length of fencing. It was the biggest unmanned stretch of fence in the whole base – no gates and no buildings for miles. Just trees, and the darkness behind the perimeter. Just you, and König.

After what felt like forever, he turned to you.

“Did you get to bed alright? After I left last night, I mean.”

“Uh…” You almost froze in place, confronted with the memories of Ghost showing up at your door. “… Yeah.”

The two of you walked the next few steps in more excruciating silence. Boots crushing leaves was the only sound to be heard.

Crunch, crunch, crunch.

Thoughts raced through your brain, a mile a minute. Should you tell him about Ghost? There was nothing between you, and yet it felt like you had betrayed him, somehow.

More memories assaulted your consciousness. Sitting at the table with König. Him sheepishly asking about your fictional boyfriend. The look in his eyes when you told him you didn’t have one. The visible relief.

“Well, I’m glad to hear it. You were very drunk.” König’s voice yanked you out of your thoughts, back down to Earth.

Shame burned your cheeks. You had been very drunk. Soap had fed you more than one too many shots. Hopefully your behaviour hadn’t been too embarrassing. At the very least, the hot blush kept you warm.

“That bloody Scotsman.” You grumbled, shaking your head. “I let him buy me too many drinks.”

“Ah, but he didn’t force you to drink them, did he?” König chuckled. He had a point. You shrugged, exasperatedly.

“I was upset! I needed a drink.” Your voice rose an octave as you responded. Next to you, König seemed to pause.

The words hung in the air. The two of you took some more steps. Crunch, crunch, crunch.

Eventually, you heard him intake a sharp breath.

“Yes. You were upset.” He said, quietly. “Which was partly my fault.”

It had been. He and Ghost had almost ruined your night by arguing right in the middle of it.  The wild, hot rage you’d felt as you slammed your fists on the table still lurked somewhere deep inside. But now, it was nowhere near the front of your subconscious. The guilt of kissing Ghost overshadowed it ten-fold.

More steps. Crunch crunch. You shifted the way you were holding the rifle, switching it to your other shoulder.

“It’s okay, König.” You sighed, softly. “You’ve already apologised.”

“I know, but I wanted you to know… I was only trying to help.” He said, guilt still thick in his tone. “I was only trying to protect you.”

A lump formed in your throat. He sounded just like Ghost. And Ghost had said those things right before he –

“It’s okay. Seriously.” You repeated, shaking your head like it might shake the thoughts away too. This line of conversation had to stop.

König stopped talking, turning his attention back to the path ahead.

Crunch, crunch, crunch.

Your mind wandered. Mainly panic, about how and when you were going to tell König about the kiss. Some trailing, still alarmed thoughts about your conversation with Ghost earlier.

“You know, Private, I feel like I should tell you…”

König’s voice was like a sharp yank on your attention, bringing you back to down reality. His tone sounded a little hesitant. Apprehensive, almost.

“If you weren’t drunk, I would have taken you up on your offer.” He said.

Your offer? What was he talking about?

Oh.

You’d invited him into your room. He was saying that he wanted to –

Oh.

Yeah.

Yeah. You’d known. You’d known from the second he’d asked you about having a boyfriend. Even before then, you’d felt… something.

But why now? Why right now, after last night? What were the chances of that?

“I kissed Ghost last night.” You blurted out.

The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them. Guilt was gnawing away at your insides. Like an angry beast taking revenge on your gut.

König stopped walking. His whole body seemed to tense up, like a switch had been flipped and put him into high alert. His head turned slowly, too slowly, to look down at you. It was too dark to see his eyes. Maybe that was a blessing.

“Was? You did… what?”

“He showed up at my door after you left. I let him in.”

“Did you two…? I mean, did he – ”

You shook your head, violently.

“No. God no. I was drunk and I just…” You trailed off, searching for an explanation. Why had you done it? You certainly couldn’t tell König about the heat, the raw hunger that Ghost drew from within you. “I kicked him out straight afterwards.”

Silence. Nothing but the sound of feet crunching on the frosty ground accompanied the two of you, as you kept walking. Here, the fence split the forest truly in half. Both sides, the view consisted of nothing but trees and darkness. It was clear that you were a long way from the base, and from civilisation.

This is where you were meant to pay the most attention to the patrol. To be the wariest. But you were completely distracted – instead of keeping watch, you were watching König. Trying to decipher every emotion that passed over his eyes. The sniper hood certainly didn’t help, the way it covered everything except his eyes. Part of you was grateful that it wasn’t quite dark enough to warrant using your night vision goggles, because then you’d get nothing at all from him.

Eventually, after what felt like an age, he spoke again. This time, his voice was quieter, subdued.

“Do you… do you have feelings for him?”

Oh, god. A million thoughts ran through your brain at a thousand miles an hour. Yes. No. Maybe. If he wasn’t such an asshole. If only he wasn’t so goddamn hot.

But Ghost wasn’t the only person on your mind. Ghost wasn’t the only person plaguing your thoughts, infecting your brain. When you were by yourself, and your mind was allowed to wander… Ghost was not the only person that came to you in daydreams.

Your heart was pounding, your chest tight and constricted. It was going to come out. You were going to open your mouth and the truth was all going to come out because it was the only thing you could think of that might thaw the icy air that surrounded the two of you. Icy air that had nothing to do with the temperature outside.

A breath caught in your throat. You were going to do it.

“I have… a lot of feelings.” You replied, slowly. After a moment, you cast a side eye at the huge man beside you. He didn’t return your gaze. “I feel confused.”

Now that caught his attention. His head snapped around, eyes finding you in the darkness. Something about it made your mouth go dry.

“Confused?” He asked, softly. Something in his eyes had lit up. There was a certain curiosity behind them that there hadn’t been before. You swallowed, hard.

“Uh… yeah.” You nodded, slowly. It felt like every movement took ten times the effort. “I have a lot of feelings, and I don’t know how to, uh, pick between them.”

Both of you had stopped. Now, not even the sound of leaves crunching underfoot could penetrate the defeating, screaming silence between the two of you. König seemed to look you up and down, his eyes constantly assessing, analysing.

“And what are they, Private?” König asked, softly. You swallowed hard.

“What are what?”

“What are your feelings?”

The question made your gut churn. To spill your innermost thoughts, everything you’d been holding inside of you, felt so exposing. Like you were about to bare your very soul in front of him.

“Well, you know.” You began, a little awkwardly. By now, your gaze was far away, unable to bear the embarrassment of meeting his eyes as you spoke. “Like I said, I’m conflicted. There’s, uh, more than one person I’m interested in kissing.”

“Uh huh.” König said, stepping towards you. The distance between you closed a little, making it a little harder to breathe. He had a single eyebrow raised, head cocked in curiosity.

Seconds passed. Whilst his face moved, his mouth didn’t. When no more words came from König, you folded your arms, nervousness gnawing away at your insides. You shook your head.

“This is ridiculous. We’re fighting a war.”

“Yes, we are. We could die tomorrow.”

“Exactly.” You let out a sigh. This wasn’t the time to focus on your feelings. You were serving in one of the most elite military task forces in the world. You had to be professiona-

A hand on your chin silenced your train of thought. König was standing right in front of you now, bodies barely a foot apart.

“Yes, Private.” König said, softly. His eyes were gazing down at you, filled with the same warmth he’d had when he said goodnight, last night. “We’re at war. Every day that we go out on missions, we risk our lives. We could die tomorrow.”

This sudden little speech took you by surprise. You stopped in your tracks, staring up at him. Shocked into silence. Desperately awaiting his next words. His hand moved from your chin to your cheek, stroking a gentle gloved thumb across your jawline.

“I, for one, don’t want to die with regrets.” König said, softly. His gaze was fixated intently on you now, watching your reaction carefully. It was hard to keep your face still. “Do you?”

You swallowed hard.

No. You didn’t.

König tilted his head, curiously.

“Private.” He said, placing his other hand on your shoulder. “Do you?”

Finally, you found the courage to move. You shook your head, slowly. His hand moved with the movement, still keeping a gentle grip on your face.

“No.” You whispered. “I guess I don’t.”

König’s eyes creased into a smile. He looked you up and down.

“Well then.” He said, stepping backwards again. His hand left your cheek, falling back into place on his rifle. “You shouldn’t hold in any thoughts that you’d regret not saying.”

Your heart was pounding now, beating a desperate rhythm inside your chest. This was it.

“Well, I… uh, I mean…” You began the sentence and abandoned it in the space of a moment. König didn’t say anything. He stood watching you, patiently waiting for you to finish. Your eyes averted to the ground. Looking up at him made it too hard to think of words.

Silence. Deep breaths. This was it.

“It’s you, König.” You sighed. “You’re the other person on my mind.”

At first, he didn’t say anything. It sent your head spinning. Alarm bells were screaming inside your mind, a cacophony of panic and embarrassment and heartbreak.

Then, he chuckled. His eyes creased into a smile, his head nodding ever so slightly.

“I knew you were a little too upset to hear about my fictional wife.” He goaded, softly. You felt your brows furrowing before you even realised how much that riled you up.

“You stole that trick from me!” You retorted, folding your arms indignantly.

König shrugged, clearly stifling more amusement. “It works so well.”

“Yeah, because you knew it worked on you.” You accused, jabbing a finger up at him. “Because you… you…”

König raised an eyebrow. As if he was taunting you to finish that sentence.

You paused. Part of you expected him to jump in and say something. Finish the sentence for you, maybe. But no. He remained silent, watching you flounder.

“Because I…?”

“König.” You whined. “Are you really going to make me say it?”

There was a pause. A beat of tension. Somewhere in the silence, you found courage.

“Or aren’t you brave enough?” You teased, shooting him a cheeky little grin.

His own eyes seemed to crease into a smile in turn, before he rolled them at you.

“Oh, Private. I am a grown man. I cannot be drawn into such games.” König chastised, shaking his head a little.

Then, all of a sudden, his demeanour changed. The smile dropped from his face, and he leaned down to look you right in the eye. His hand clapped around your shoulder. A grip tight enough to keep you in place, but not so tight that it hurt.

“Come on.” He said, rubbing his hand up and down. The contact made your whole body go on high alert. “Use your words.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Every inch of your skin felt like it was aflame - not least of all your hot, burning cheeks. This time when you replied, your voice was barely above a whisper.

“Because you… you want to kiss me too.”

A look of frenzied excitement passed over his eyes. It lasted less than a second before it was squashed, concealed behind that calm, composed mask he usually wore. But it lasted long enough for you to see it.

“Oh.” He said, voice thick with amused curiosity. “Do I, now?”

You folded your arms. He was trying to play it cool, but it was too late. He’d already given himself away.

“Are you saying I’m wrong?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

He paused for a moment. His eyes wandered down to your lips, and then back up.

“… No.” His voice was so soft, it was barely audible above the sound of the wind rustling through the trees.

That one word sent elation running through your entire body. You took a step forward, feeling bold.

“Then, what are you waiting for?”

A single second passed where neither of you moved. Then, everything happened at once.

König stepped forwards, his hand snaking around your waist. You tilted your head up to look at him. One of his hands went to the bottom of his sniper hood, pulling it up. Then it cupped your chin, gently cradling your face. Your eyes fluttered closed.

His lips met yours. Energy buzzed over every inch of your skin. Excitement stirred in your stomach, flittering and fluttering like butterflies. The taste of his mouth was electric, driving you closer, eager for more. He kissed you back hard, his touch needy, yet gentle. Hungry, but restrained.

A low groan escaped him and he pulled you closer, tightening his grip around you. God, that sound made your stomach churn. He almost lifted you right off the floor. Your hand was on his shoulder, grasped tightly onto his body armour. Keeping him in the kiss.

But after a moment, he stiffened. His head drew back, the hood falling over his chin once more. You looked up to see wide eyes staring down at you. Nervousness balled in your gut. Was he rejecting you?

“What are we doing?” König asked, shaking his head. The last time his voice was this panicked, you’d stepped on an anti-personnel mine.

“What?” You asked.

In truth, this sudden change of behaviour made your heart pound. Where was this going? The fear of embarrassment was like an angry storm cloud looming over your head. König glanced around, almost conspiratorially.

“I mean, what about Ghost?” König asked. The mention of that name almost made you flinch. Not now. You couldn’t think about Ghost right now. König didn’t seem to notice and carried right on. “I mean, I don’t know if you’re interested in sharing, or – ”

“König.” You said holding a finger to where you thought his lips might be. He fell silent, still gazing down at you like a deer in headlights.

His arms were still around your waist. Bodies pressed together. You couldn’t help yourself. “Just kiss me.”

König didn’t need telling twice. He kissed you again, more forcefully this time. You returned it eagerly, leaning into him as best you could. It made you feel so alive. Like your whole body was crying out for more.

After a few seconds, the heat between you burned hotter. His tongue slipped into your mouth and now he was really holding you tight, exploring your mouth and your body with his own. You were eager to return the favour, letting yourself melt into every little touch he was willing to give you. He felt so big, so strong, so focused now that he had your permission to take what he wanted.

“Oh, mein Liebling.” He purred, his breath hot on your face. The way his voice cracked slightly sent heat rushing to your crotch.

Fuck, you wanted him. You needed him. If only he would  –

BANG!

The sound ricocheted around your ears, blasting your eardrums. Instantly, shrill, sharp ringing was all you could hear, vibrating through your skull. You jumped away from König instinctively, nearly falling to the floor.

Shots fired. Shots fired!

“Scheiße!” You heard König cry. It sounded far away, the noise somewhere behind the intense ringing.

You had to focus. No matter how much your ears hurt, or how hard your heart pounded in your chest.

Head up. Eyes on your surroundings. Scanning for the enemy.

But there was no enemy.

There on the ground in front of you, with a horrifying mess of blood and brains splattered across its face, was a wolf. The sight was so horrifying it made you want to gag. It had been shot straight through the eye, but judging by the way its fangs were bared, it had been hunting you and König.

So there was no threat. You’d been saved.

But by who?

Your eyes followed the direction the shot must have come from. Trained to identify. Anxious to find out.

And that’s when you saw him.

Glaring at you from ten meters away. Smoking gun in hand. Face hidden behind a skull mask.

It was Ghost.

Chapter Text

You were still reeling from the sudden bang, the ungodly loud blast from the rifle. The ringing was only just starting to cease, allowing you to hear the world around you once more. The first thing that came back was the howling of the wind. Then, the crunching of leaves underfoot.

Ghost was walking up to the pair of you, closing the distance.

“Well, well, well.” He spoke before either of you could react, still holding his gun at the ready.

All of the hot, hungry excitement from the kiss had been replaced with nothing but cold, unbridled fear. How the fuck was Ghost here right now? You and König had stopped practically in the middle of nowhere, at the remotest part of the border fence. This place wasn’t visible on the CCTV. It was barely on the map.

“Lieutenant!” König said, already straightened up to full height. He’d recovered a lot faster than you had, clearly. His hands were held out wide in front of him, showing Ghost his innocence.

“I see how it is.” Ghost’s voice was a low rumble, barely above a growl. “That was bloody fast.”

Though König had addressed him first, you knew Ghost’s cutting words weren’t aimed at him. By the time you’d stood back up properly, ready to deal with the situation, you found Ghost’s angry glare was already fixated on you. As expected, he was talking to you, and you alone.

“Ghost!” You yelped, feeling the hot blush explode over your face. “I – ”

“I mean, I knew when I told you to be careful that this might happen.” He kept speaking, talking straight over you. You shut your mouth to listen, feeling your bottom lip quiver with anxiety. “But less than twenty-four hours later? What a greedy little girl.”

König stepped forwards then, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

“Hey!” He barked, moving to stand by your side. “Are we going to have a problem?”

At that, Ghost laughed. It sent a chill down your spine. There was no joy in that laugh.

“Oh, we have a problem alright.” He retorted, glancing between König in front of him, and at you, over König’s shoulder. He pointed down at the corpse of the wolf. “That is a huge problem.”

You swallowed, hard. As much as you hated to admit it, he kind of had a point. Never mind who you were kissing – the pair of you had been seconds from disaster and completely none the wiser. It was not a good look, for two highly trained military professionals.

“Ghost, I’m so sorry, listen, I – ”

He held out a hand and you ceased babbling, clamping your mouth shut.

“Ah ah ah.” He warned, wagging a finger. “Quiet.”

You watched as he carefully stowed away his rifle, slinging it over his back once more. It left his hands free as he stepped back from König, seemingly taking in the pair of you for a moment.

“I mean, are you both thick?” He suddenly demanded, annoyance leaning into his tone. He gestured to the corpse. “Look at this. You could’ve been seriously hurt, or killed.”

König shook his head, letting out a sigh. “I would’ve been able to protect – “

“You are going to shut the fuck up and listen.” Ghost suddenly snarled, cutting him off. He stepped forwards, closing the distance between him. Their faces, each hidden from the world, were inches apart. “You may have been a colonel back in KorTac, but here you’re nothin’. You know what that makes me?”

Neither of you spoke. In truth, nobody had ever bothered to explain the intricacies of König’s rank to you now that he had defected, so you didn’t actually know the answer to Ghost’s question. But, judging by the way König’s shoulders slumped a little in defeat, he knew exactly what was coming.

“That makes me the fucker in charge.” Ghost finished, coldly. “I’m her commanding officer, and I’m yours, too. Got that?”

König was silent for a few seconds. It felt like forever. Eventually, he let out a long, weary breath.

“Yes.” He grumbled, quietly. “Understood.”

Ghost leant forwards, cupping a hand to his ear. As if he hadn’t heard him properly.

“I’m sorry, yes what?” He goaded, beckoning König to keep going. “Unless you wanna get sent back to KorTac with your tail between your legs, that is.”

König mumbled something under his breath. It was definitely German, but far too quiet for you to even hear it properly, never mind translate it.

“… Yes, sir.” König eventually said, the reluctance and resentment thick in his tone.

Finally, Ghost’s eyes creased into a smile. A cruel, triumphant grin that spoke only of victory and not of remorse. When those terrible eyes finally fell upon you, you felt yourself shrinking underneath the pressure of his attention.

“And you.” He growled, stepped beyond König to face up with you. It was difficult, but you did your best to stand your ground. Chin up, mouth clamped shut, eyes as wide as dinner plates.

“Lieutenant, please.” You began, trying to use his title with reverence in the hopes that it might placate him. “We made a mistake. I made a mistake. I apologise.”

He continued to stare at you, as if waiting for more.

“I – I’m sorry, sir.” You stammered, unsure of how to proceed.

More silence. He looked at you. Then, down at the corpse of the wolf, a few feet away.

“No.” He said, shaking his head. “Not good enough. Drop.”

Shit.

When he’d done this to Soap, it was funny. Now that he was doing it to you, it was decidedly less so.

“Please, sir, I said that I’m – ”

“I don’t care that you’re sorry.” Ghost snapped, moving forwards to grab your shoulder roughly and force you to your knees. The impact on the cold, frozen ground sent a shockwave of pain through your legs. “I said, drop.”

You tried your best to hold in the whimper of pain and surprise that threatened to escape. It wouldn’t help to let it out. To Ghost, it would only make you look weak.

Instead, you did as you were told, and got down onto your hands and knees. The first press up was in many ways both the easiest and the hardest – the adrenaline coursing through you gave you the strength to perform with ease, but the gnawing anxiety tearing through your insides told you that it was probably the first of many.

“That’s it. Just like that.” Ghost’s voice drifting down to you, the smugness in it clear as day. You didn’t need to look up at him to know he was smirking. It was more than obvious from his tone.

“How many?” You grunted, slowly dipping down for your third press up.

From somewhere above you, you heard Ghost scoff. At first, you felt sweet relief as he grabbed the M4 rifle from your back and laid it on the ground next to you. But the relief was fleeting because suddenly, a weight was pressing down on your back, making the exercise ten times harder. A quick glance over your shoulder told you that he’d planted his boot on your back, leaning some of his weight down onto you.

“Fuck.” You groaned, unable to stop yourself.

“No askin’ questions.” Ghost ordered, giving you a little push with his boot. It made you strain just to stay off the floor. “I didn’t tell you to ask questions.”

You dipped for the sixth press up, blowing out a hard breath. “… Yes, sir. Roger that.”

It was then that you finally heard König, spotting his boots as he stepped towards the pair of you.

“What are you doing?” He demanded, his voice full of fire. “You can’t punish your soldiers like this.”

Ghost chuckled again. The movement made the weight of his boot slightly lighter for a second. Sweet but fleeting relief.

“We’re working in a spec-ops unit that’s so secret, you need four levels of security clearance just to know we exist.” He retorted, gruffly. “I can punish you however I like, if it means you’ll do your jobs properly.”

As he finished speaking, he suddenly lifted his boot from your back. Once more, it felt like an incredible gift – right up until you saw him squatting down beside you, getting on your eye level.

Part of you wanted to stop exercising and look at him properly, but that felt like a mistake. He hadn’t told you to stop yet. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him look you up and down, his face now completely blank.

“Alright, Private.” He said, his voice soft. “I’m going to give you a little task.”

You tried to speak, but all you could manage was a strained grunt. Was this your fifteenth press up, or your sixteenth? It was hard to remember.

“No, don’t say anythin’ yet.” Ghost murmured. He ran a gloved hand over your back. “I’m going stand back up in a second, and put my boot on your back again.”

Panic coursed through your veins. Not again. You wouldn’t be able to last.

“When I do, I want you to count your press ups.” His hand tightened on your shoulder, giving you a clear warning. “And don’t fuck up, or you’ll be restarting from one.”

With that, true to his word, he stood up. His boot returned to your back, the weight pushing you down once more. You let out a grunt, unable to stop yourself.

“Private!” König called, his voice a little far away. You didn’t look up at him. Your eyes stayed trained on the ground as you dipped down. 

“One.” You groaned, barely able to get the word out. The weight of Ghost’s boot was crushing. You dipped for a second. “… Two.”

“Why are you doing this?” König was asking, his voice getting a little louder. A glance to your right showed his boots to be much closer to Ghost’s than before. He was squaring up to the shorter man. “Why am I not doing press-ups, also?”

Part of you wanted to keep listening, but staying off the ground was your first priority. The weight on your back seemed to increase as you dipped for the third press up, the ache in your shoulders screaming at you already.

“… Three.” You gasped. Above you, Ghost chuckled again.

“There’s more than one way to cause pain, König.” Ghost answered, his tone thick with amusement. “Doing press ups would cause you no pain. But this…”

All of a sudden, the weight increased on your back ten-fold. Ghost was pressing his boot down even harder on your back. The strain was startling. You had to grit your teeth and tense every muscle in your upset body just to stay off the floor.

“Fuck!” You cried, unable to stop the word coming out.

“This causes you pain.” Ghost finished. After a second, you heard him snap his fingers. “Hey! I heard that! Start from one.”

You stayed with your arms locked, holding yourself up. Head over your shoulder, casting a desperate glance up at him.

“What?!” You cried. “From one?”

Ghost didn’t answer you, but jammed his boot firmly into your back. It hit you in the spine, painfully.

“Ah!” You yelped. “Okay, okay!”

You lowered yourself back down. Your muscles were aching now, your arms starting to shake from the sheer effort this was taking.

“One.” You grunted. “Two.”

“Ghost, stop!” König’s voice cut into your field of awareness again, reminding you of his presence. His voice was full of sorrow, full of pain. “I started it. This was my fault.”

Ghost made a sound that was halfway between a sneer, and a snarl.

“I know that.”

“So, don’t punish her. Punish me.”

“I am punishing you.”

A new sound. The scuffing of feet on the ground. The crunching of leaves. You turned your head to see König’s boots standing in front of Ghost’s. It looked like they were standing face to face, squaring off against each other. You kept pumping your arms, bringing your body up and down.

“Three.” You groaned. “Four.”

“She can’t do this. You’re being an arschloch, und – ”

“That’s it!” Ghost suddenly barked, cutting off König’s insult. “One more word and I’ll make it worse.”

Everything fell silent for a moment. Well, everything except your panting breaths, as you kept on doing press ups as best you could.

“Five.” You gasped.

Every fibre of your being was screaming at König to shut up, to just let Ghost just punish you so it could be over and done with. He was only riling him up, by continuing to protest. You’d learnt better than to argue with Ghost when he was in a mood like this. It had not ended well last time.

A gloved hand was suddenly on your hair, stroking through the strands. It could only be König, trying to comfort you by stroking your head. There was a slapping sound, coming from Ghost’s direction. The hand retracted.

“Yes, she can. She can do it. Don’t touch her.” Ghost snapped. “Go sit over there, shut your bloody mouth, and watch.”

Your heard footsteps growing quieter as you dipped down for another press up. Every movement was costing huge amounts of energy now, the unyielding force pressing down on your back feeling stronger than ever.

“Six.” You panted.

“That’s it.” Ghost suddenly said, his voice unexpectedly soft. “Good girl.”

You tried to ignore him, but felt a hot blush explode into your cheeks as you dipped down again. Really? He was going to try to pull a move like that at a time like this? What a pig.

“Seven.” You puffed, feeling your left shoulder click painfully.

“You’re nearly there.” Ghost’s voice wafted down to you from above.

Ahead of you, König plonked himself down on the floor around two meters in front of you. He had his legs crossed, hands on his knees. Eyes staring straight at you. You looked at him, smiling a little.

The weight on your back suddenly increased. Ghost was pushing his boot down harder. You flexed with all your might, only just keeping yourself off the ground.

“Remember what I said.” He goaded. “Don’t fuck up.”

“Eight!” You yelled, unable to control the force of the air expelling from your lungs.

Across from you, König visibly winced. He seemed to pick one of his hands up, as if ready to hold it out to you, but then hesitated, and put it back down. There was clear anguish in his expression, pitying your struggle.

“Awww, is it hard?” Ghost’s tone was dripping with condescension and glee. His heel dug into your spine a little more. “You can do it, Private, come on.”

There was a scream inside your throat, a raw primal cry that was itching to get out. But the fear of messing up now, being made to start counting from one again, was too great of a threat to ignore. God, you wanted to give up.

But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Ghost’s gloating tone rattled around your brain, sparking the flames of resentment just high enough to power you through another press up.

“Nine!” You cried, feeling increasingly desperate.

König’s eyes were on you, burning holes into the top of your head. Part of you felt guilty that he had to watch this, even though it wasn’t your fault. As if by entertaining Ghost’s advances, it somehow made you responsible for his behaviour. Every time you dipped down, he winced, holding his hands out. Like he could catch you from five feet away.

Your elbows were shaking, hard. A thin sheen of sweat coated your forehead, your chest, your arms. You were nearing your breaking point. You flexed your arms, dipping down one more time.

“Ten!” You yelled. It was an extremely loud sound, given the near complete silence that surrounded the three of you.

Ghost removed his boot from your back. You almost wept with the relief. Instantly, your body felt ten times lighter – weightless, almost.

“You can stop.” Ghost said, voice still unusually soft. He squatted down next to you, rubbing a hand down your hair. “You did well, Private. I’ll let you rest.”

He didn’t need to tell you twice. You collapsed to the ground, falling flat on your stomach. Every muscle was aching, twitching. The breaths came thick and fast, gulping in as much oxygen as your lungs could take. It burned almost, your throat feeling surprisingly raw. Whether that was the shouting or the straining, you didn’t know.

Ghost kept stroking your hair, his gloved hand running through the strands. It felt a little odd, but the feeling was far away in your mind – far behind the aching muscles and dead arms.

“Good girl. Such a good girl.” Ghost purred. Then, after a moment, you felt his hand tense up. “Ah ah – hey! Sit down!”

You used your last ounce of strength to glance up. König had risen to a squat, moving to come over to you. When Ghost spoke, he froze, eyes darting rapidly between you.

“But she – ” König began, but Ghost cut him off.

“I don’t care. Put your arse on the fucking ground.” He ordered, pointing at the patch of grass König had just vacated. “I didn’t say you could move, did I?”

Silently, and scowling deeper than you’d ever seen him before, König sat back down.

But you could feel the tension in Ghost’s muscles. He wasn’t happy yet. After a moment, he straightened up, pointing a finger at König.

“Hey.” He scowled. “I asked you a question. Did I say you could move?”

König sighed. It was a tired, defeated sound.

“No… sir.” He replied, the last word added on at the end like an afterthought. “You did not.”

“No. I didn’t.” Ghost’s chest was puffed out now, swelling with pride and triumph. Though you didn’t have the energy to actually look up at his eyes, you could hear the smirk in his tone.

His hand kept stroking your hair. After a few seconds, your body recovered a little. You pulled yourself into a kneeling position, eager to get yourself out of the dirt. Ghost’s hand went to your shoulder, helping you up. The movement was… surprisingly gentle.

“Alright, Private, alright. You did it. I knew you could.” He cooed, moving his hand to rub up and down your upper arm. Something about it was weirdly comforting. This was a different man to the one that had his boot on your back. “You good?”

“Pah.” You scoffed, still catching your breath. “I’m exhausted, thanks to you.”

Ghost nodded, a frown creasing the corners of his eyes. Though your tone was openly confrontational, he didn’t seem to get angry at you.

“I know. I know you are.” He continued, gently running his hand up and down your back. Occasionally he would press somewhere that his boot had dug into, and it would cause a jolt of pain to run down your spine. “But I can’t play favourites. You violated the code of conduct. You nearly got mauled, and…”

He trailed off then, not finishing the thought. The thought of what might’ve happened did he hadn’t saved you. A shudder ran through his body, causing the hand on your back to shake.

“You broke the rules.” He affirmed, finally removing his hand. After a second, he got to his feet, offering a hand down for you to take. “You said you’d be careful.”

You nodded. Annoyingly, he was right. Despite the cruel way he’d punished you, and the way he’d relished in it, he still had a point. You’d let yourself put your guard down and almost paid the price for it.

A long sigh escaped your lips. By now, your breathing was back to normal, and your heart had ceased its pounding - but the ache in your arms hadn’t subsided, still a burning reminder of the punishment he’d made you endure.

“You’re right, sir.” You mumbled, hoping that maybe by using his title you might mend the cold rift between you. “I’m sorry.”

He made a small sound as you took his hand, a little hum of triumph. You did your best to ignore it, and ignore the implications it held.

With no effort at all, he pulled you to your feet. The way he did it made you feel weightless, like your body was a rag doll in his hands. Once on your feet, he kept you close for a second, stroking your cheek. The touch felt foreign, when coming from him. You sure hadn’t seen him discipline Soap like this.

“That’s all I wanted to hear.” He drawled. “Good girl.”

Silence fell between the two of you. For a moment, you felt like he might try and pull you in for a kiss. You hoped that your instincts were wrong. He certainly didn’t deserve one right now. But something about the way he was gazing down at you, his eyes drawn to your –

Someone cleared their throat.

You turned to see König sat there, arms tightly folded.

Oh. Of course.

Your punishment had ended, but König’s hadn’t. You leapt away from Ghost like he’d burnt you, eager not to be a pawn in the emotional chess match that was clearly heating up between them. Though, a tiny voice in your mind told you that you were almost certainly one of the main instigators.

Ghost chuckled. It was a dark, smug sound. He seemed to relish in König being stuck on the floor for a final few moments before he rolled his eyes and clicked his fingers.

“Yeah, yeah.” He grumbled, begrudgingly. “Get up.”

König practically sprang to his feet, popping back up to full height once more. He made his way over to you instantly. Ghost slunk backwards from the pair of you, keeping distance between himself and König.

“Private.” König breathed, sweeping up to you. He placed a hand on your shoulder, stooping down to your eye level. His expression was full of concern. “Are you alright?”

On face value, his comfort was pleasant. But it was impossible to enjoy the way his sweet eyes gazed at you, and the way his hand rubbed up and down your arm, because Ghost’s presence was haunting the conversation. He was still in the corner of your vision, glaring at the both of you.

Internally, you knew, this was going to be a problem. Every time you let one of them get close, the other one wasn’t far away. Watching. Upset.

How the fuck were you going to do your job like this?

“Yeah.” You gulped. “I’m okay.”

“That was my fault.” He murmured, mournfully. His hand went from your arm to your hair, a gloved finger moved a strand away from your face. It made your stomach flutter. It made guilt stab you in the gut.

For a moment, you paused. How should you even respond to that? You felt like it was probably both of your faults.

Ghost cleared his throat. It cut across your thoughts, negating your need to think of a reply. He glanced pointedly down at the corpse of the wolf, a few feet away.

“That needs dealin’ with.” He remarked, coldly. “If we leave it, it’ll attract more shite.”

His eyes travelled back up to König for a moment.

“Go dump it.” He said, clicking his fingers at him. The gloves stifled the sound. “Off base, but not too far.”

König stayed still for a moment. The tiny, barely noticeable slump of his shoulders told you that he was not happy with having to perform such a task. But who would be? You stole a glance at the wolf, your eyes drawn the sight of its horrifying, mangled face. A shudder ran down your spine. It was revolting. It was… kind of sad. Though it was a predator that nearly bit your head off, now that it was dead, it just looked like a small, crumpled mass of fur.

“Alright.” König sighed, moving over to it. Ghost held out a hand, stopping him in his tracks.

“Hey. Commanding officer, remember?” He said, his tone dripping with devilish delight. “What do we say?”

The larger man stopped for a moment. His hands were balled tightly into fists.

“Yes… sir.” He growled, through gritted teeth.

With that, Ghost nodded. His eyes travelled from König to you.

“Come on, Private. We’ll finish the patrol.” He remarked, gesturing with his head that you should join him by his side.

But you hesitated for a second, watching König scoop up the corpse.

“What about – ”

“He’ll join us later.” Ghost cut you off, his voice hard and firm. He gestured for you to join him again, though this time it was decidedly less patient. “Come on.”

And so, with bated breath and raw anxiety granting away at your insides, you joined him. The two of you fell into step, leaving König far behind.

Chapter Text

Icy air burned your cheeks and stung your lungs as the two of you continued walking. Your breath came out as a white mist, the clouds flying in your face as you kept pace alongside your very silent commanding officer.

It was hard to put a pin in your emotions. So many things were flying around your mind all at once. Guilt, for kissing König. Anger, for the way Ghost punished you. Fear, that he might lose control like he did all those nights ago, and put his hand around your throat.

But whatever you were feeling, you didn’t voice it out loud. After all, making conversation with Ghost was difficult at the best of times. Right now? It felt absolutely impossible.

And so, you walked along in silence.

That is, until Ghost finally cleared his throat, and addressed you.

“You alright?” He asked. Your head snapped around to look at him, almost jumping from the suddenness of his attention.

“My back hurts.” You retorted pointedly, folding your arms. Ghost glared back down at you, his eyes flat and unfeeling.

“I bet that wolf’s face hurts.” He replied. His pace was unrelenting as he talked, unsympathetic to your aches and pains. “You’re damn lucky.”

Lucky? This didn’t feel like luck. You knew for a fact that when it came to Ghost shooting that wolf for you, luck didn’t even enter the equation.

“Yes. I’m so lucky that I can never get any privacy.” You remarked, cattily. It was probably a stupid move, but you didn’t care. He was annoying you too much to be able to keep all the thoughts in. As if having him lurking in the shadows whilst you were having an emotional moment with someone else could ever be seen as anything but a complete and utter invasion of privacy.

“No.” In an instant, Ghost had stopped, spinning around to stare daggers down at you. “You’re lucky it was me that caught you. Price would not be so forgiving. Ask Garrick.”

You swallowed, hard. The reminder that you had, in fact, broken the rules very much took the wind out of your sails. Mostly because it was an impossible argument to defend against. You had broken them. In no small manner, too. Lives had been endangered in the process. It was grounds for a far more serious punishment than a few press ups.

“… yeah. I’m, uh, I’m sorry. Sir.” You mumbled, feeling some of the indignant energy within you die. “I just wish you didn’t enjoy it so much.”

The statement hung in the air. Ghost seemed to look you up and down, eyes softening slightly. He reached out a hand. You felt your shoulder tensing instinctually, preparing for some kind of impact.

“Oh, Private.” He tutted, his hand gently cupping your cheek. His eyes were gazing down at you, a certain softness behind them. “That wasn’t about your pain. It was about showing him who’s boss.”

“Yeah, well.” You began walking then. It was probably some kind of minor infraction, to leave a conversation with your commanding officer without permission, but you didn’t care. “I’m not some game piece to move around the board.”

The sound of heavy footsteps approaching from behind caught your attention. A glance over your shoulder revealed Ghost to be pacing towards you with intent. As he reached you, a hand went to your shoulder, keeping the two of you close as you kept patrolling.

“Oh, no. No no.” He assured you, shaking his head. “You’re not.”

His hand tightened. It wasn’t quite tight enough to be painful. Yet.

“You’re the main prize.”

“I’m a person.” You replied, haughtily. “Not a prize.”

“Of course you are.” He stopped again, and the hand he held on your shoulder forced you to stop with him. His free hand went to your cheek, a single gloved finger slowly stroking your skin. “You’re not just a person. You’re a soldier. A woman. A sniper, and an interrogator.”

You didn’t move – barely dared to breathe – as he gently retracted his finger. This was weird. Not what you were expecting at all. His anger at what you’d done had faded into the possessiveness that only König could draw out of him. His eyes narrowed upon yours, focused with an intensity that was difficult to bear.

“You’re a person I want.” He murmured. Hunger rumbled in his throat. It caused a flutter in your stomach that was difficult to ignore.

“Then treat me with respect.” You retorted. Ghost raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe you should treat your job with some respect.” Ghost suddenly snarled, his hand moving to grab your arm, pulling you a little closer. The change in tone happened so fast, it was startling. “Maybe you should treat your position in this task force with a little more respect, huh? Rather than kissing a fellow squad member when you’re meant to be patrolling?”

Ugh.

Sure, the opportunity to kiss each man had been far too tempting to resist, but now that you’d done it, it had clearly been a bad idea. You’d were caught in the middle of a trap – a trap you’d set up for yourself. Every move you made only got you more stuck. Any closer to König, and Ghost was eagerly following behind. Any move towards Ghost, and König was stuck in your brain, infecting you with guilt.

You sighed, holding your tongue. He was never going to let that go. The fact that you’d nearly come to harm because you’d shirked off your duty to kiss a fellow squad mate? It didn’t even matter who it was. Damn him. He was right. You were damn lucky that it was Ghost that caught you. Anyone else would’ve sent you straight home.

“Listen.” You said, mind still reeling over the memory of pulling away from König to see Ghost staring at you. “About that. About… him. I wasn’t thinking, I jus – ”

“Oh no Private, I see how it is.” Ghost cut you off without even looking at you. “I want you. He wants you.”

He took another step in silence, before turning around to stare down at you.

“May the best man win.”

You mouth went dry. No. Things were tense enough as they were. There was still a war going on, for fuck’s sake. The last thing anybody needed – especially you – was more nonsense.

Though your guilt was quick to remind you that this time, it was definitely your fault.

“That’s not… come on, Ghost.”  You pleaded, scurrying a little to keep up with his long strides. He kept up his brutal pace, making you practically jog to stay in step. “That’s not what I want.”

Finally, Ghost stopped. He had a single eyebrow cocked, his eyes wandering up and down your body.

“Who was better?” He asked, bluntly.

Your eyebrows flew upwards in surprise. “What?”

Ghost was frozen in place. Stoic. “You heard me.”

The truth was, it was hard to pick between them. The kiss with Ghost was needy, and desperate, like it had been a long time coming. The kiss with König was passionate, and fiery, like neither of you could help yourselves. Ghost made you feel hot… and maybe a little bit scared. König made you feel secure, and protected. The feelings were different, but just as strong as each other.

It was only then that you registered Ghost’s eyes, still focused intently on you. In the end, you gave him a shrug.

“I liked both.” You answered, simply.

The resulting silence was difficult to endure. He looked down at you for a long time, his eyes intent and focused like he was considering something.

“That’s a coward’s answer.” Ghost chastised, shaking his head. “And it’s one I’ll change.”

After what felt like forever, he straightened up, tightening his grip on his rifle, and kept walking.

You had to jog a little to catch up. At first, you almost kept talking – thinking of something, anything that might break the tension. But eventually, you left it. It was probably best not to push a man like Ghost.

By now, dawn was starting to break over the treeline. The very first orange glow of the day was warming up the chilly blues in the night sky. It was a welcome change. Daytime meant more light, less creeping nocturnal beasts, and more importantly, after your nighttime patrol – sleep.

Though, as the pair of you rounded the final corner and the main entrance finally came back into view, something caught your attention.

Two large black SUVs, driving up to a small group of familiar looking men.

And it was only then that finally, Ghost spoke.

“Ah. They’re here.” He said, gruffly.

You squinted your eyes, trying to focus on what you were looking at. One of the figures stood waiting for the cars seemed to turn his head, spotting the pair of you. Then, he took a step forwards.

In seconds, he was bounding happily up to the pair of you. It was at that moment that you noticed his mohawk.

“Morning, you two!” Soap called, coming to a stop in front of the pair of you. His expression was awfully chipper, considering how early it was. He seemed to take in your sour expressions one at a time, confusion furrowing his brows. “Woah. Why the long faces?”

You glanced up at Ghost, searching for answers. He didn’t return your gaze. His eyes stayed focused on the arriving SUVs, watching as the doors opened and men started to get out.

“We’re tired.” You answered for the pair of you, coming up with a quick lie to cover the scandalous truth. “Patrol took all night, so it feels early and late all at the same time.”

Soap chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, you can’t go to bed yet, lass.”

His body turned slightly, pointing a thumb over his shoulder towards the arriving party at the entrance. Price and Gaz were shaking hands with two men that you didn’t recognise, whilst a group of soldiers piled out of the SUVs behind them.

“You have to introduce yourself, first.” Soap continued. He began striding back over to Price and Gaz, glancing at you over his shoulder. “Are you comin’, or what?”

Ghost was already at Soap’s side, his long strides almost outpacing the younger man. You scurried along behind them, keeping your curious eyes focused on the group of strangers. Though you were still so exhausted, something about this new situation was putting a little pep back in your step.

That, and a heavy sense of anxiety in your stomach. Considering what was going on with Kortac, getting a shipment on reinforcements was probably not a good thing. Did the higher ups believe the base wasn’t well protected enough? Was there an attack imminent?

“Alejandro!” Soap cried. He reached out an arm, taking this ‘Alejandro’s’ hand in his with a clap. Their grip tightened, pulling each other into a hug. Soap slapped Alejandro on the back and pulled back, looking him in the face. “Good to see you, hermano. You look tired.”

Alejandro laughed, dropping Soap’s hand. “You dragged me and my men halfway across the world to solve your problems for you. I’m allowed to look tired.”

The man in question was slightly taller than Soap. His body was a little wiry but still lean, his shoulders less broad but still obviously square and muscular. Alejandro’s black hair was slicked back to reveal a sharp widow’s peak. When he noticed you, he smiled and nodded once, before reaching forwards to offer an outstretched hand. Soap leant in, telling him your name and rank.

“Hola. Alejandro Vargas.” He said, stepping towards you. “It’s nice to meet you, Private.”

You took his hand and shook it, mustering a small smile. “Nice to meet you too.”

Though he seemed perfectly pleasant, that still didn’t answer any of your questions. Questions like, what the hell was going on? Why were these men here? Who were they? It was obvious from the way that they interacted with your squad that they knew each other, and yet they had never been mentioned.

“They’re here to help.” Ghost suddenly explained, cutting straight over the formalities. He had been standing off to the side until now, dropping out of the conversation. But clearly, he had seen the confusion that was plastered all over your face. “We’ve heard talk of an enemy that they’re… familiar with.”

At this, you nodded, slowly. You glanced over Alejandro’s uniform, noting the logo for the Mexican Special Forces. That made his accent make sense. However, it made his presence on base make less sense. They really had come halfway around the world.

As you were pondering this, a second man joined you. Judging by the logo on his arm, he was another Mexican Special Forces operator. He and Alejandro said a few words to each other in Spanish. You heard your name being exchanged, before he turned to you and offered a hand.

“Buenos días. I’m Rodolfo.” He said. You gave him a smile, taking his hand and shaking it firmly.

“Nice to meet you, Rodolfo.” You replied. He gave you a nod.

“Likewise.”

You all stood around for a moment, with nothing but the wind and the rumble of nearby conversations to break the silence. It felt… strange. Just like when you joined 141, not that long ago. The feeling of being an outsider to an already established group of friends was as uncomfortable as it had ever been.

It was at that moment that Alejandro and Rodolfo looked up at something over your shoulder, their eyes growing a little wide.

You followed their gaze to see König, approaching the group from the same direction that you and Ghost had just come from. He was just emerging from the treeline, the orange glow of the morning sun casting amber light across his sniper hood. It made his eyes completely invisible. An intimidating sight. That, coupled with his size, made him look not unlike some eldritch horror, striding confidently out of the forest towards you.

“Oh. Don’t worry.” Soap suddenly chuckled. Then came the slap of his hand connecting with Alejandro’s shoulder. “Big lad’s with us.”

The two Mexicans stood still for a moment. Eventually, they exchanged a look with each other. Each had a mixture of shock and doubt all over their faces. By now, the group of men that had piled out the SUVs behind them were also stopping to stare. It was easy to tell because the cacophony of boyish laughter and Mexican accents finally came to a hush.

“He… is with you?” Alejandro asked, slowly.

After a second, Rodolfo leant over and muttered something to him in Spanish. He nodded, letting out a gruff chuckle.

“Yes.” Alejandro replied, slowly. “The sniper hood.”

“Gentlemen,” Soap began, taking a step back to dramatically gesture towards the approaching man, “I’d like you to meet König.”

At this, König suddenly stopped. It was like he’d only just realised the sheer amount of attention on him. You found practically feel the discomfort rolling off him in waves as his head turned, examining the crowd of watching eyes. Something about it was incredibly endearing. It reminded you of his demeanour in the first briefing, the way he’d frozen up when suddenly asked to address a room full of strangers. Clearly, that same anxious man still lay inside him.

“Oh. Hallo.” He gave a little wave.

No one spoke.

Then, Soap moved towards him, grasping his shoulder with an amused look on his face. He directed König to the two newcomers, pointing at each of them in turn.

“Mate, over here. This is Alejandro, and Rodolfo.” Soap explained, grinning like he was suppressing a chuckle.

“König.” Alejandro said. The word sounded strange in his accent. He seemed to take in the larger man for a second, still staring him with the same sense of awe and disbelief that you’d held for him that first day. “You are… Colonel König of KorTac, no?”

König and Alejandro shook hands, both staring at the other intensely. After a second, a gruff chuckle escaped König, accompanied by a slight shake of his head.

“I was.” He responded, slowly. “Now I’m just König, of 141.”

At this admission, Alejandro’s head snapped back around, his eyes finding Rodolfo’s. The two men seems to have an entire conversation with only their eyes in the space of two seconds. Surprise. Recognition. Delight. Caution.

“We have heard of you.” Alejandro nodded, amusement and excitement in his eyes. Rodolfo stepped forwards, nodding his head.

“You are the… the human battering ram, yes?” He grinned, his eyes trailing up and down König’s sizeable frame.

This drew another chuckle from König. He shook his head, as if he had had this conversation many times before. There was a certain level of confidence behind his demeanour that you hadn’t really seen from him before.

“People have called me that.” He nodded, the tiny visible portion of his face you could see creasing into a smirk. Out the corner of your eye, stood a few feet from the group, you spotted Ghost rolling his eyes.

Alejandro and Rodolfo were lapping it up. Laughing with him, nodding and smiling as they put the pieces together in their minds. Something about the interaction made you see König in a new light. These guys operated in Mexico and they had heard of him.

“That was you in Berlin, right?” Rodolfo asked, eagerness still clear as day in his voice. He and Alejandro were leant towards the larger man with interest, hanging on his every word. “You took out twelve men by yourself, no hostage casualties.”

That stopped you for a moment. Vague memories of reading something about that in König’s file on that very first day suddenly came back. In truth, you’d never considered it before. It was pretty impressive. They were forgetting, however, that König’s appearance proved so intimidating that the hostages nearly refused to let him take them to safety.

“I was just doing my job.” He said, with a nonchalant tilt of his head. Soap let out a chuckle.

“Capable and humble.” Soap noted, mirth twinkling in his eyes. “Keep your pants on, everyone.”

“And yet he can’t draw an accurate map of his own mines.” A voice suddenly cut in. Ghost. He had moved closer and approached the group, hands firmly shoved into his pockets.

Everyone froze. The silence was nauseatingly tense. The only people who didn’t look uncomfortable were Alejandro and Rodolfo, whose eyes had turned questioning, glancing around for answers.

“Well.” Soap said, clapping his hands together. “That’s why we have each other, right? We’re a strong team.”

“Everyone at KorTac knows of the fearsome ‘Ghost’.” König suddenly said, casting an amused side eye at the shorter man. “Would it help to hear the stories they exchange about you?”

Ghost visibly bristled. It was clear that he wasn’t expecting the spotlight of the group’s attention to be cast upon him, and now that he had the floor, he had no desire for it at all.

“No.” He grumbled. “We’re not here for story time.”

“Have you ever single-handedly taken out 12 men in one house?” Soap retorted, folding his arms. Ghost caught his eye, giving him a frown.

“‘Course I have.” He replied. “I just don’t go around bragging about it.”

This seemed to shut everyone up for a second. Around the circle, faces were a mixture of tense, confusion, and uncomfortable. Everyone except König, who still had that entertained, amused look in his eyes.

“Right. I’m off to bed.” Ghost said, eventually. “I’ll see you all at the briefing, later.”

The briefing. Yes. He was talking about the briefing that was scheduled for later this afternoon. Presumably, being held so late to allow you and König some sleep after your late-night patrol.

Sleep that, now that you were thinking about it, you desperately wanted.

“Private!” A voice barked. You snapped your head around to see Ghost, staring at you expectantly. “Come on. Get some kip.”

You nodded, scurrying to join him as he made his way towards the barracks. The sound of voices faded behind you, cut off short by the door as it shut behind the two of you. Ghost didn’t say anything – hell, he didn’t even look at you. As soon as the pair of you passed the stairs that led upwards to the officer’s corridor, he disappeared. Leaving you to nothing but your thoughts.

Your confused, excited, apprehensive thoughts.

Chapter Text

The room was full when you entered. Not that it didn’t make sense – despite the many, many hours between you being relieved of your patrol, and showing up at the briefing, you’d still managed to cut it a little fine. The snooze button on your alarm was far too tempting, apparently.

But as the clock neared 4, you swept into the small conference room listed on your schedule. It was significantly smaller than the last room you’d been briefed in. That one was like a lecture hall, with a huge screen and rows upon rows of seating. This room had just one oval shaped table in the centre, and an interactive TV display that, despite it being so high tech, still kind of reminded you of being in school.

Just like last time, Price was stood at the front of the room. Ghost was nearby, standing just off to his side. He gave you the tiniest of nods as you entered. You nervously ignored him, casting your attention instead to the seating. The table had chairs all around it, most of which were already occupied. There was an open space in between Soap and König that you darted to immediately. Soap checked his watch as you sat down, raising an eyebrow.

“Risky.” He remarked. You shot him a pouty look.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” You retorted.

He let out a chuckle. “Only just.”

“Alright!” Price barked, clapping his hands together. It made you jump. “We’re all here.”

Shit. You were the last one to arrive. Probably not a good look.

“I know you’ve all met, so I won’t introduce our newcomers.” Price began, gesturing towards Alejandro and Rodolfo, who were sat in the seats closest to him. They turned, giving the group half-hearted waves. “But we don’t all know why they’re here.”

Price turned, raising his hand to click a button on the tiny remote he was holding. The screen changed, moving from the SpecGru and Task Force 141 Logos, to a picture of a woman. A beautiful woman.  One you didn’t recognise. She had flawless skin, sharp, angular features, and a jet black bob haircut. So strikingly attractive was her appearance, that you almost forgot where you were for a moment.

“This is El Sin Nombre. Better known to some of you as Valeria.” He said. Yes, you reminded yourself. You were in a briefing. She was your enemy. “Leader of Las Almas Cartel.”

The cartel? You felt your brows furrow together into a frown. KorTac mainly operated in Europe and Asia. Why was Captain Price talking about the cartel?

“Do not let looks deceive you.” Alejandro suddenly cut in, casting a side eye to the group. “She is cunning. And ruthless.”

“And this…” Price clicked the button on his remote, changing the slide. The picture changed to a photo of a lab. A lab filled with vials and vats of an icy-blue liquid. “This is a substance known as ‘chems’. It goes under many names, but that’s the primary one.”

Next to you, König visibly flinched. Like the picture was about to leapt out and get him. It was surprising, to say the least. This was a man that reportedly charged into battle headfirst. But now a picture of some random chemical was enough to get to him?

“Chems?” Soap repeated, as if he thought he had misheard. Price paused to give him a tired nod.

“Yes. Chems.” He said. “A mixture including, but not limited to, adrenaline, steroids, and stimulants. It’s use in civilian or military conflict is banned in every country that officially knows about them. So far, that’s thirteen.”

Price clicked the button again. Now you were looking at something you recognised. The lads called it “battle rage” – a device they sometimes carried into the battlefield that worked like an epi-pen. A hard plastic shell, with a vial of drugs and a needle hidden inside. To administer, simply press the button and slam it onto your skin, usually the thigh, to inject the contents like a shot. It did as the name described. Within seconds, the subject becomes stronger, faster. Angrier. More aggressive. Less coherent.

“Chems are used in a ‘battle rage’ injection.” Price explained. “In a small dose like that, it’s safe. In larger doses, well… I’ll let you see for yourselves.”

He clicked the button. The screen started playing a video.

Darkness. Rustling. A hand over the camera. Someone is setting up the angle.

Light. The camera focuses, to show a stark white lab. Tiled walls, tiled floors. The kind you would see in a TV show. Adjusting the camera is a lab tech, wearing a surprising amount of body armour.

At the centre of the room, a man is sat in a cheap looking metal chair. Or rather, he’s strapped down into it. You can’t see his face, but judging by the KorTac logos on the wall, you know you probably wouldn’t recognise him anyway. He is surrounded by a mass of monitors and machines. The only one amongst them that you can identify is a heart rate monitor.

Another lab tech moves on screen. He’s holding what looks like a weird mass of tangled clear plastic tubes. He moves over to the man in the chair, the subject, and begins to fit them around his body.

Some of the tubes stop dead. From the grainy pixelated view of the camera, they look like dead ends. But the way the lab tech jabs the ends into the subject’s skin – and the way the subject cries out in pain – means that you can only assume they have some kind of needle, or fastening attached.

The original lab tech starts writing notes on a clipboard. Neither of them react to the subject’s discomfort, nor do they make any attempt to lessen it. In no time at all, the bizarre tube-suit is fitted onto the subject, and a sizeable metal cylinder with a blue glowing light is secured with straps to his lower stomach.

The subject flexes, moving his arms as much as the restraints allow. The tubes move with him, trickles of blood leaking from various points on his body. He winces and grunts in pain, but once again, there is no reaction from the lab techs.

“Test three, with the chem powered suit.” The lab tech with the clipboard says. He writes something down. “Dosage at triple the level of the control.”

The other lab tech, the one standing beside the subject, turns to the monitoring devices. He flicks a few switches, seemingly making sure everything is switched on and set up. Eventually, he gives a nod of confirmation.

“Administer the dose.” The lab tech with the clipboard orders. The one next to the subject reaches for a device, pushing a few buttons. A low hum, like the whirring noise of a small machine, appears on the recording.

Slowly but surely, the tubes begin to fill with glowing blue light. The same icy blue of the chems. The light on the cylinder fades, draining like a battery.

No. Wait. Not a cylinder. A tank.

The tank drains of it’s contents – which you can surmise is an overdose of chems – emptying into the tubes strapped to the subjects body and finally, into his veins. You can see a strange blue lightning tint in his skin around each needle’s entry point. The substance is infecting his body like a blood disease.

The change is slow, at first. The subject falls still, head hanging low. Then, as the dosage begins to reach capacity inside him, he starts to fidget. His hands tense into fists, his neck bulging as his head twists left and right.

Then, he begins to struggle. A sound starts coming through the speakers. Initially, it is so uncanny and inhuman that you think it’s an error of the recording. But as the subject writhes and twists, his slack-jawed, open mouth tells you the sound is coming from him. He is moaning and groaning as he rocks back and forth, tugging harshly against the restraints.

The lab techs are still nearby, checking the monitoring equipment and scribbling furious notes. The tubes keep pumping more chems into the subject. The veins around each tube’s entry point are bright blue now, like bolts of lightning across his skin.

His moaning rises to a wail.

Then, it hardens into a growl. An animalistic howl of pure unbridled rage.

The subject tenses his arms, before ripping them free of the restraints. Both lab techs jump back, startled.

“Containment breach!” One of them says, mouth pressed urgently to a radio on his shoulder. “I repeat, subject is breaching containment!”

The subject leans down. His hands go to his ankles, fingers ripping through the leather straps like a child tearing through tissue paper. As he rises to his feet, he kicks the chair out from behind him.

It smacks into the wall behind him, the solid metal crumpling from the impact.

The display of sheer force is astounding. The lab techs react in turn, one of them rushing to the wall to press a button. An alarm sounds. The image becomes harder to make out as the room is bathed in flashing red light.

Another roar comes. This one is even more feral and fearsome than the last. Then, crashing. Smashing. Sparks fly, illuminating a floor scattered with broken machinery. Another crash. The heart rate monitor stops.

The blinking red lights illuminate what happens next like a sick slideshow that can’t be turned off. The subject is a hulking, veiny animal filled with nothing but hot, unbridled fury. The lab techs are panicking, smacking uselessly on the sealed shut exit. You can hear their screams. Shrieks of terror, the likes of which you have never heard before.

The subject turns. Sees them. They look back at him, horrified.

The screen goes black. More growling. More screaming.

Red light. The subject lunges for the lab techs, reaching them in seconds. They cling onto one another for dear life. He grabs one, hand gripped around his head. Then, he aims towards the wall.

Darkness. You hear a sickening crunch. The sound of screaming is cut in half.

Red light. The body of the lab tech lays crumpled on the ground. The other one, the one still standing, now has a dark stain down the front of his trousers. He pleads with the subject, his begging barely audible above the blaring noise of the klaxons.

The subject grabs his neck. The last thing you see before the lights go out is the way he begins to throw the lab tech towards the ground.

More darkness. It sounds like someone is throwing pots and pans around a messy kitchen. And screaming. Half-heartedly, now.

Light. The subject is throwing the lab tech around like a rag doll. It looks not unlike a toddler having a tantrum with a toy. He makes the adult man in his hands look weightless. The way the lab tech’s body is smacking and slamming against the broken equipment scattered around them reminds you that he is not.

By now, the screaming has stopped. The lab tech is as lifeless as his companion, limbs flailing at odd, sickening angles whilst the subject remains in a frenzy.

He turns to the camera. His eyes are wild, the whites having turned an eerie shade of blue. The same blue that snakes across his skin, in his veins, and in the tubes that still encase him.

The subject roars. It is so powerful that the camera shakes, and it continues to shake as he stomps towards it.

The last thing you see before the screen goes black is his outstretched hand, and those crazy, inhuman eyes.

And with that, the video ended. You had to blink a few times as you readjusted to the room. Inside your chest, your heart was still pounding away like there was a real threat nearby. Most of the other attendees clearly felt the same, as everyone physically leant back, letting out long sighs.

“Fuckin’ hell.”

Of course it was Soap that broke the silence. The contrast between the horrors you’d just been shown and the casual tone of voice he used kind of made you want to laugh.

But you couldn’t. Not when the freeze frame of the subject was still on screen. It felt like he was staring into your very soul with eerie blue eyes.

Next to you, König was notably silent, and still. Unlike everyone else at the table, he didn’t look shocked. Similarly to Price and Ghost at the head of the room, he just looked wary, and tired. Something about that made you feel… uneasy.

“KorTac doesn’t know we have this video.” Price said. “Our friend König was kind enough to make a copy of this for us when he defected.”

Right. Of course. König wasn’t shocked, because he’d already seen this before. He already knew what awful things you were all up against.

In fact, when you thought about, you realised that König had probably seen far more than just one video of this. This was test three – meaning there were two other tests that precluded it. And how many succeeded it? How many lives had been wasted in the name of research? How many of them had König watched die right before his eyes?

How many of those deaths had he authorised?

He was the colonel.

Price clicked a button. The picture changed. It was a relief to not be staring at those eyes anymore. Now you were looking at something familiar – a map. It showed an area of backcountry in a neighbouring country with almost nothing in it except long, winding roads, valleys, and sheer cliff faces.

“KorTac is importing a huge shipment of chems.” Price said. Something about the way he said it made you feel calmer, like you could put your brain back into soldier mode and forget about what you’d just seen. “And they’re doing it with the help of the cartel. That’s why we have our Mexican pals here.”

Suddenly, all the pieces clicked into place. Everything made sense. This was why he was showing you pictures of El Sin Nombre. This is why you’d just gotten an influx of men.

“Valeria knows smuggling. Her and the cartel are experts in smuggling illegal substances across borders.” Price continued, pacing back and forth. “But Alejandro, and Los Vaqueros? They know Valeria. They knew her techniques, her strategies, the way she thinks.”

With that, Alejandro stood up like he was being called into action. Price gave him a single tap on the shoulder, as if handing him the floor, before holding his hand out, offering the remote. Alejandro took it and pressed a button. The screen zoomed in slightly, as a long stretch of road was suddenly highlighted in white.

“Tomorrow, at 1600 hours, they are transporting the shipment in a convoy along this road. There will be two trunks carrying chems, with support vehicles in the front and back.” Alejandro began, pointing to the screen. “We are going to intercept them.”

“Private!” Price suddenly barked. You practically jumped out of your skin. He pointed to a cliff not far from the road. “You and Soap will be stationed here, for overwatch and demolitions.”

“Yes sir.” You nodded. Soap cast you an amused grin, folding his arms.

“Aye lass. Some quality time, eh?” He jibed. In a way, you were actually a little relieved to be posted with him. Spending that much time alone with Ghost or König right now felt like a receipt for disaster.

A hot, passionate, distracting kind of disaster.

“Gaz.” Price had already moved on, pointing to a different area of the map. “You’ll be here with me. We’re going to catch them up and fight them on the ground.”

And so it went on. Everyone got their orders, posted in different teams as part of a large scale operation to interrupt and destroy the convoy. As you realised the sheer scale of the resources SpecGru was pouring into this, one thing became very clear.

Price had started this briefing with that video for a reason. We needed to know the stakes. We needed to understand what we were up against, what our enemies were willing to do just to gain an edge over us.

It was an extremely sobering thought.

Once everyone was crystal clear on their orders and what was going to happen tomorrow, Price and Alejandro finally relaxed a little. They glanced at each other, as if silently asking, did we cover it all?

“Any questions?” Alejandro offered, gesturing openly to the room.

“Yeah.” Gaz said, tucking his hands under his arms. “Can’t you just shoot those chem-powered fuckers from across the field?”

“KorTac plan to armour them. Heavily.” König replied, speaking for the first time since you’d entered the room. Everyone stopped, turning in reverence to the only man who truly understood what we would be fighting. “Like a juggernaut. All you’ll be able to see is their eyes.”

“Wonder where they got that idea.” Gaz muttered.

“But they won’t be deploying them across the field like that. They’re deadliest at short range. If you’re in close quarters, and you see those tubes, the armour will be weakest at the joints. You have no other option except just grab tubes and pull.” König continued, his voice clinical and devoid of emotion. “It’ll rip the needles out and cause internal bleeding. Hopefully you can limit the dosage.”

The man’s cries of pain came back to you. The lab techs couldn’t look like they gave less of a fuck about them. Thoughts of how König might be trained crossed your mind again.

 “And people… volunteer, for this?” Gaz pressed.

König shrugged.

“No. They don’t volunteer.”

Silence.

The implication hung in the air. KorTac was experimenting on human subjects – not only that, but unwilling human subjects.

Your mind wandered back to the man in the video. Initially, you’d written off the value of his life, assuming that he was just some no good criminal who was eager to gain power and money. Now? Now you weren’t so sure. Who was he? Was he a criminal, or was he just an innocent man trapped in a bad situation? Worse still, could he be someone who once worked for SpecGru? He probably had a family. A mother and father at the very least, but possibly a wife and children too. You could only hope they would never see that video.

And the lab techs. Were they willing? After that revelation, they weren’t just ‘evil scientists’ anymore. You couldn’t shake the thought that they might just be good people in a bad situation.

“How old is the video?” You squeaked. The less you could think about all of it, the better. Humanising the enemy was a huge no-no in your line of work. Compassion made you hesitate. Hesitation was deadly.

“Six weeks.” Price replied. “It’s the most recent intel we have on their… research.”

“Is it flammable?” Soap cut in. You nearly rolled your eyes. Of course that’s what was in his mind right now.

“Highly.” Ghost nodded. “So be careful.”

“Aw, you know me, L.T.” Soap said, jokingly. “I’m always careful when I make things go boom.”

Ghost rolled his eyes. “You are never careful.”

“Alright!” Price clapped his hands together, ceasing what was quickly turning into a casual discussion. “You all have your orders. Get some rest. You’ll need it for tomorrow.”

Everyone started filing out of the room. You were one of the last to go. But eventually, with a heavy heart and a knotting ball of anxiety in your stomach, you made your way out of the briefing, trying to mentally prepare for the mission tomorrow.

Chapter Text

“Watcher-1 to Bravo 7-1. Come in.” Laswell’s voice crackled to life through the radio, sounding through your headset.

It was a nice change, hearing a woman’s voice come through the airwaves for once. She’d arrived early this morning, just for this mission. It only served to stress the gravity of your task today. Laswell’s presence was a sign that the brass were paying attention to this, and you did not want your name on their lips for the wrong reasons.

Next to you, Soap put a hand up to his headset, switching his mic on. “Copy that Watcher-1, this is 7-1.”

The radio buzzed again.

“Confirm position, Soap.”

“I’m approaching overwatch position with 7-2.”

“Copy that.”

With that, it fell silent again. The only sound around was the crunching of gravel under your boots as you and Soap kept trudging up the hill. Though it was late in the afternoon, the sun was still shining brightly down upon the both of you. It caused you to have to hold a hand up and shield your eyes as the summit came into view.

The helo had dropped the two of you off a few hundred feet down the hill, leaving you to reach your assigned position by yourselves. Which was right at the top of a steep, slippery hill. Fantastic. With every step, stones and pebbles slid around under your boots, threatening your usually keen sense of balance.

Though, at the very least, it was an easier climb than the last hull you’d climbed up. The wet, muddy, rain-logged hull during the cache mission. This one was at least dry. The gigantic sniper rifle strapped to your back certainly didn’t help though, despite the fact that it was a weight you were used to. One didn’t become a marksman specialist without lugging a few guns around.

To your right, Soap reached up to his headset, flicking his mic back onto mute.

“Come on, lass. Get a wriggle on.” He called, his long strides allowing him to pull ahead as the two of you pushed through the ascent. If you weren’t using all your energy to lug heavy equipment up what was quickly becoming your least favourite part of the walk so far, you might’ve let out a huff of annoyance.

Thankfully, your struggle was short lived. You made it to the top in no time at all, feeling your beating heart start to return back to a normal rate. Soap raised a hand, flicking his mic on again.

“Bravo 7-1 and 7-2 in position.” He said, his tone flat and clinical. It was always weird to hear him go into ‘soldier mode’. All the joy and jovial mirth he was always so full of got suppressed behind a calm, collected mask. It was like he stopped being himself.

The top of the hill had clearly once been a tourist’s hiking spot. Gravel pathways converged into a flat, open area, lined with rotting wooden benches. From up here, the view of the valley was magnificent. Rolling hills and bushy forests stretched out as far as the eyes could see. At the edge of the cliff, a small, heavily graffitied sign punctuated the view. Though you couldn’t read the language it was in, the map of the local area and pictures of wildlife made it clear that this place was once a popular spot for holiday-makers to stop and appreciate the day’s hike they’d just done.

And now you were laying down on your front, setting up your sniper rifle. It was an excellent position. From here, you could clearly see the miles of road that the convoy was going to be travelling down. From so high up, it looked tiny. Like a thin yellow ribbon cutting through the otherwise green and grey landscape.

You began to set up the rifle, pulling various parts off your back and out of your pack. Whilst you gripped the main body of the gun and started fixing the stock into place, more calls came through the radio as everyone reached their marks.

“Bravo 0-7 in position with Bravo 7-3.” That was Ghost, confirming that he and König were ready to go.

“Bravo 6-1 in position.” Gaz. You knew from the briefing that he wasn’t too far away from –

“Bravo 0-6, in position.” Price’s voice cut across your train of thought.

Next came the scope and the suppressor. The latter of which was partially to not give away your position, and partially to save yours and Soap’s eardrums. He was still standing, surveying the area as he grabbed various bits and pieces from his pack. One of which was the laser designator he was so fond of – the device linked to the tracking systems on the air support’s weaponry.

You checked the time. 16:03. Not long now.

“Victor 1-1 and 3-1, in pursuit.” Alejandro’s voice rang out in your ears. Things were heating up.

Soap was settling into place next to you, the two of you laying on your fronts on the gravel. Like you, he was putting on the finishing touches as he set up his sniper rifle, but you knew that wasn’t Soap’s main weapon today. As you checked the infra-red scope on your rifle, you could already see his laser sweeping back and forth across the landscape. As the demolitions expert, he was in charge of marking out targets for air support to hit.

The air support that, by the sounds of it, was nowhere nearby. Not that that was unusual – you couldn’t exactly ambush someone if they heard your choppers coming first.

“I’ve got eyes on the convoy.” Gaz’s voice crackled in your ears. “South east, three klicks.”

“Actions stations, people.” That was Price. The rumble of an engine came through the radio with his voice. He was already on the move, riding at the head of a series of trucks that were aiming to catch up with and run alongside the convoy.

“Alright, lass. Party time.” Soap murmured, sweeping his laser across your scope’s field of view again. “Eyes on the road.”

Though it sounded like his words were designed to comfort you, you knew better. Of everyone out here, Soap had one of the most important jobs. If the vehicles at the front of the convoy didn’t get blown up at the right time, the whole convoy might get away. He needed to create the wreck that would stop and trap the rest of them. He wasn’t really warning you to keep your eyes on target. He was telling himself, psyching himself up.

But you nodded anyway, keeping your eye pressed to the scope. “Copy that, Sergeant.”

Soap let out a snort of laughter.

“Ooh, listen to you. Yes, Sergeant! Yes, sir!” His voice rose a couple of octaves as he mocked you, doing a cruel impression of your voice. “Relax. L.T.’s not here.”

You scoffed at that, feeling a blush creep onto the edges of your cheeks. Good thing you had your face pressed right up to a firearm.

“Your mic better be on mute.” You retorted, flatly.

“Don’t worry.” He grunted, letting out a huff of breath as he switched position. “Your secrets are safe with me.”

At that, you finally took your eyes off the scope to scowl at him. He was already giving you a cheeky side-eye, an amused smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“I don’t have any secrets.”

His gaze flicked down to your collar, where the last yellowing marks of your bruise were finally fading away.

“Uh huh.”

“Oh, shut up.” Your eye returned to the scope. Still, nothing. Nothing but dirt road, bushes, and the occasional sparse evergreen.

“Convoy one klick out.” Gaz’s voice cut through your conversation, reminding you of the task at hand. The mission. “In close pursuit.”

The two of you quieted down for a moment. Watching. Waiting.

You heard them coming long before you saw them. In a remote place like this with no background noise and plenty of rocks for the sound to bounce off, loud noises would travel for miles. The rumbling engines of the upcoming vehicles were no exception.

After some time, you saw it. A black van, careening down the country lane below. It was chucking up clouds of dust as it went, billowing behind the vehicle like the streams from a jet engine.

Your hand went straight to your mic.

“Visual on the convoy.” You said. Something in your shoulders went rigid as you tracked the driver of the van with the scope. Like your body was locking itself into place.

“Copy.” Price’s voice answered instantly. “Soap! Fuck ‘em up.”

Something about that made a grin tug at the corners of your mouth. That was the first time you’d ever heard Price swear on mission.

Next to you came the sharp click of the laser designator. Though you weren’t looking at Soap, you knew he’d be doing the same thing you were. Carefully keeping sights on that front vehicle at all times. One slight squeeze of your finger and the driver’s head was going to pop like an egg in a microwave.

Then, a different sound. The whooshing and whirring of approaching air support.

“Ready, lass?” Soap murmured.

“Affirmative.”

“… Now!”

BANG!

You took the shot right as Soap marked his target.

Everything moved like it was in slow motion. The driver’s head went pop. Blood and grey matter smeared the insides of the windshield. With no driver, the vehicle sped along the road wildly, wavering and weaving until –

BOOM!

Air support soared overhead, the jet engines nearly blacking out the sound of the explosion as the front vehicle burst into a ball of flame. It began rolling, chunks of metal, plastic and rubber flying off and smashing against the rocks that lined the road.

Another click. Air support were already turning, heading back in your direction again.

BOOM! BANG!

Hellfire rained from the sky. The second and third vehicles in the convoy had finally caught up to the first as Soap’s designator marked them for death. They too exploded, smashing into the smoking wreckage at the front of the convoy. The resulting mess was chaos – metal and flesh splattering across the road and over the jagged landscape that surrounded it.

“Good hit, 7-1!” Came the call from air support, glee clear in the operator’s tone. “Target KIA.”

The rest of the convoy was slowing down, realising that they had nowhere to go. The road ahead was too obstructed by flaming wreckage for them to drive through, and the tall rocks lining the road meant that they couldn’t drive around.

That when you saw them. Motorcycles. Only two at first, snaking either side of the convoy to drive around the front. From where you were, they looked like ants. But a quick check through the scope confirmed what had been relayed to you in the briefing – it was Gaz and Price.

“Moving in on the target.” Price called through the radio. You could hear the crackle of the flames coming through his microphone.

After a second, another couple of motorcycles appeared. One of them was driven by Ghost, with König clinging to his back like an oversized backpack. The other had Alejandro and Rodolfo, sharing the ride in a similar fashion.

“Copy that, John.” Laswell’s voice rang out in your ears. “Go get ‘em, boys.”

As if on cue, the sound of gunfire rang out throughout the valley. KorTac soldiers were stepping out of the vehicles urgently, as more and more SpecGru operatives piled out of the vehicles pulling up behind the convoy.

You let out a sharp sigh of relief. Everything was going to plan.

“Convoy’s trapped.” Soap said, his voice both in your ear and in your radio. After a moment, he glanced over to you, flicking his mic off. “Get ready for chaos, lass.”

Chaos was right. Operators were dismounting from vehicles left and right, creating a flurry of moving bodies. Everyone was ducking behind cover, parting like the Red Sea to find a solid surface to hide behind.

But they couldn’t hide from you. Not at this angle. Since your view was perpendicular to the road, as they hid from SpecGru, they were leaving their sides open for you.

You took a couple looks through the scope.

The muscles in your shoulders relaxed. This felt right. Natural. Just like the training exercises you’d done a million times before.

BANG!

Picking them off was easy. It ran like clockwork. Find someone, focus in with the scope, a slightly squeeze of the finger, and –

BANG!

Gone. They crumpled to the ground like a puppet that got their strings cut. The puff of red mist was all you needed to see before you moved onto the next one.

Soap was using his rifle too, now. Now that everyone was starting to mix together, it was too risky to order an air strike. He could end up hitting one of your own.

“So, lass…” Soap was murmuring to you, eye pressed to the scope. “Speaking of secrets…”

Oh, god.

Somehow you knew what was coming and the thought made you sick. He didn’t seem to notice your discomfort, rolling sideways to nudge you with his elbow, before popping off a shot of his own.

“Come on.” Soap said. Something in his voice was warm and accepting, like he was greeting an old friend. “Tell me about the bruise.”

Your finger slipped. The shot sailed straight past the target’s head and bounced harmlessly off a car bumper.

“Fucking hell.” You groaned.

Though you were somehow managing to keep your face calm, you certainly didn’t feel it. Every single one of Ghost’s warnings not to tell anyone came flooding back all at once.

“And I know it wasn’t sparring.” Soap suddenly said, cutting across your train of thought. “So don’t give me that shite.”

Alright. So Ghost had told him something. After their conversation at the bar the other night, he must’ve given him more information - though exactly how much, you had no way of knowing. You focused in on the scope to see Captain Price vaulting over a rock, pistol aimed straight ahead.

You followed his line of sight. Found the target.

BANG!

Price stopped for a single second, watching the man fall, before continuing his push forwards. Soap cleared his throat. You sighed.

“Ghost doesn’t trust König.” You began, trying to keep your tone even as your sights swept elsewhere. “And I spent time with König, despite Ghost’s orders not to.”

You caught sight of Alejandro and Rodolfo. They were crouched alongside the tanker full of chems, each one taking turns to pop off shots as the other reloaded. Their teamwork was admirable to watch.

“He came to my room that night and he…” You paused, considering how to phrase the next part of the story. In the end, you gave him the same explanation that Ghost did. “Well, clearly, he lost his temper.”

Soap grumbled something under his breath. It was too low and too heavily accented for you to understand it.

“That’s what he told me. That’s completely out of order.” He said, eventually.

BANG! BANG!

The two of you let off shots simultaneously. Two enemy soldiers running side by side tumbled to the floor in tandem.

“He apologised, but…” You stopped talking for a moment to load a new mag into your rifle, “I don’t know if I believe him. He really seemed to enjoy it.”

Soap let out a noise that was somewhere between a huff and a grunt. You watched as the two Mexicans in your sights pushed forwards, stepping over the corpses of fallen enemies.

“Secure the tanker!” Price was yelling, the sound of shots being fired around him coming through the radio. “Someone get inside the cabin!”

You set your sights on the tanker. There were two men inside it, ducking down to avoid being hit. From this angle you could just about see one of their heads, glancing around to see the chaos surrounding the vehicle.

BANG!

Now there was one man left alive inside it. And a copious amount of red mist and viscera covering the inside of the windshield.

“Door’s locked!” Gaz was calling back. “I can’t get in!”

“Is that why you took König home, after the night out?” Soap suddenly asked, drawing your attention back to your conversation. “Little bit of revenge sex with his rival?”

The statement made your heart pound. You found yourself eagerly shaking your head, rejecting the idea.

“No!” You retorted, a little quickly. “I didn’t sleep with König that night. He just took me home.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Soap glancing at you. He had a single eyebrow raised, a tell-tale sign of his obvious disbelief. You sighed.

“That is, until Ghost showed up past midnight.” You grumbled, under your breath.

The second you said it, regret raged inside your head like a fire. Why were you telling Soap this? You’d explicitly agreed not to tell anyone, let alone the person that you could only assume was Ghost’s best friend. He made a noise, a little indication of surprise and curiosity.

“You fucked Ghost?” He demanded, incredulity thick in his tone.

“We’re on a mission, Sergeant!” You reminded him, trying to ignore the flurry of nerves in your stomach so you could take another shot.

BANG!

As if on cue, someone caught your eye. Your target fell, and when he crumpled to the ground you could suddenly see a man a few feet behind him, crouched behind cover. A broad, hulking man in a skull mask.

He stopped for a moment. Liked down at the corpse, then, looked up. Right up at you. As if, despite the vast distance between you, he could see exactly where you were.

Then, a KorTac solider ran past him and Ghost turned, firing a shot into the back of his head. He crumpled.

The hand left your shoulder. Soap was thankfully returning to the task at hand. But that didn’t stop his bloody mouth.

“I can’t believe it.” Soap was laughing now, popping off shots in between outbursts of glee. “I mean, he fuckin’ needed to get laid, but goddamn. I can’t believe you – ”

“I did not have sex with him!” You insisted, feeling all the exasperation leaking into your tone. “We kissed. I kicked him out. End of story.”

Silence.

Well, silence except the sounds of engines, gunfire, and yelling coming from the bottom of the valley. The way it echoed off the rocks and cliff faces made the sounds all blend together, like one massive cacophony of noise.

Your sights were still on Ghost. Watching as he leapt over a pile of scrap metal, blade raised high in the air. Despite his size, the way he moved made him look so weightless. As he landed, he tackled a Kortac soldier, sinking the blade into his neck. Blood spurted out of him like a fountain, splashing a streak of red across Ghost’s mask.

Someone a few feet behind him raised his rifle, pointing straight at Ghost.

BANG!

Not anymore.

You let off more shots in quick succession, keeping your eyes on your commanding officer as he tore through more KorTac operatives. The way he seemed to use his blade to rip through them was akin to a wild animal. Slashing skin, tearing flesh. Bodies dropped to the floor around him, like he had an aura of death that killed anyone in his vicinity.

“Oof. Don’t let me be there when the big man finds out.” Soap murmured. “You’re gonna break his heart, lass.”

“Big man?” You questioned. By your count, you were out of bullets. You reached for a new mag. “You mean König?”

“Aye.” Soap was nodding, pulling a mag out of his tac vest and handing it to you without even taking his eye away from the sights. “He’s sweet on you, y’know.”

That made your eyes nearly pop out of your head. Thank god Soap wasn’t looking at you. You needed to get better practice on your poker face.

“You think?” You said, trying your absolute hardest to sound casual as you loaded the fresh mag into your rifle. “What makes you say that?”

“Oh, come on.” Soap was chuckling, shaking his head. “Around us, he barely says a fuckin’ word. The second you show up, the man never shuts his mouth. He clearly – ”

Suddenly, Soap stopped talking. His eyes were on you, looking you up and down. A single, intrigued eyebrow raised.

“You’re not surprised.” He noted, thoughtfully. “Why aren’t you surprised?”

Shit. You had to think of something to say, and fast. If you left this awkward silence for too long, then he was probably going to assume –

“Oh my god.” Soap laughed, throwing his head back to let out a cackle. He seemed to regard you with a certain sense of awe, like you were a decorated soldier returning from a suicide mission. “You didn’t.”

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You mumbled, keeping your face pressed to the scope. It was your only hope of hiding how goddamn flustered this was making you.

Soap only laughed harder, shaking his head.

“You’re such a shite liar. God knows how you’re workin’ in a spec ops unit.” He said. “All hell is going to break loose when they find out you’ve been necking off with both of them.”

Another long pause.

You kept your eyes on the scenes below, avoiding answering Soap once more. By now, the number of KorTac soldiers had thinned out significantly. There were less than a dozen of them still fighting, their movements becoming erratic and careless as they clearly started to realise how fucked they were. Your boys were advancing on them, boxing them in. Surely, it was impossible for them not to notice.

“I can’t believe it.” Soap suddenly declared, drawing your attention back to your own slow panic. Ghost was going to be so furious when he found out what you’d done. “All the gossip I’ve been missin’ out on, all the secrets youse have been keepin’. Unbelievable.”

Finally, the two of you made eye contact. His expression was that of pure mischief. It made your stomach drop. He was not going to let this go any time soon.

“We are on a mission.” You reminded him, desperately trying to avoid confirming or denying anything. Soap took one glance down into the valley and waved a nonchalant hand.

“Please.” He sighed. “We’ve got this in the bag. I’m still paying attention.”

“You’re the Sergeant.” You reminded him, playfully. “You should be the one saying this to me!”

“Aye, alright, fine.” He grumbled, putting his eye one through scope. “But, one last question. I gotta know…”

“What?”

“… Who was better?”

There was that goddamn question again. The question that made the memories of both kisses rush through your mind’s eye, filling your body with heat. The question that even you yourself didn’t have an answer to.

But as you opened your mouth to answer, a noise caught your attention.

The starting up of an engine.

One of the KorTac operatives had climbed into an armoured truck. It was near the front of the convoy, the last vehicle that had managed to stop before the huge crash at the end of the valley. The second you spotted him behind the wheel, you started firing shots.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Soap was joining in too, having noticed him right when you did. But the shots did nothing, bouncing harmlessly off the bullet-proof windows of the truck.

The engine roared. The truck started to move.

“Vehicle on the move!” You called through the radio. “Watch out!”

Everything happened in slow motion.

First came the calls, the confirmations from your team that they’d heard you. Price and Gaz spun on their heels, turning to also open fire on the truck.

Nothing. The slow crawl it was moving at turned into a rumbling roll forwards. Operatives were turning around and jumping out of the way.

It got faster. And faster.

People were throwing themselves out of the path of the truck now. Alejandro only just made it. Rodolfo grabbed his gun for him, seconds before it got flattened.

By now the truck was dead set, groaning and growling as it careened full throttle towards the wreckage at the front of the convoy.

Your jaw dropped. What was he doing? It looked like a suicide mission.

BOOM!

The truck plowed through the wreck, blasting broken metal and torn plastic aside. Sparks flew and a shrill screech filled your ears as it took half a car with it, scraping the scrap heap along the road.

But he made it. He made it through.

And now, where a colossal wreckage had been trapping the KorTac soldiers in, was a huge gaping hole.

“Shit!” Price yelled. “Don’t let them escape!”

People scattered like insects about to be trampled. KorTac soldiers – what little was left of them – were rushing to vehicles, running to get away. Your boys were chasing them, trying to pick them off before they got to safety.

All except one.

One person caught your eye – the only one not moving.

König.

It was the first time you’d spotted him all mission. As you’d expected, there wasn’t a scratch on him.

He was standing off to the side of the road, completely still, gun pointed at a KorTac operative. An operative dressed in nothing noteworthy except a pair of sunglasses that looked awfully like knock-off ray bans.

The two of them were watching each other, not moving. Both had their guns pointed squarely at the other, as if they might let off a shot any second.

But… neither did.

After a second, König squared his shoulders, gesturing with his hand like he was telling him something.

What was he doing? This guy was clearly the enemy. You had your own sights on him, the scope pointed straight at his face. Part of you wanted to just shoot him and get it over with, but something stopped you. The desire to see what König would do to him, maybe.

But König didn’t do anything. He stayed still, staring at the soldier gormlessly.

Then, he lowered his gun.

The KorTac operative gave him a single nod, an acknowledgment of his mercy, and ran.

Your blood ran cold.

Every single one of Ghost’s warnings about König blasted through your mind at a thousand miles an hour. Was he right? Had he been right all this time? Could König not be trusted? Was König really a traitor, a spy working for the enemy? Was that the only reason he had gotten close to you in the first place? Was he leading you all to your deaths and laughing behind your backs all the while?

Who was he? Who was he really?

Everyone was rushing to vehicles now, your fellow soldiers scrambling to find something, anything they could use to chase KorTac down.

But it was too late. Far, far too late. More KorTac vehicles were following the first, careening through the gaping hole in the wreckage. The tanker full of chems included.

Those that had run back to fetch the vehicles were drawing a stop. Since they’d parked at the back of the pack, there was a hundred feet of parked or wrecked KorTac trucks between them and the now escaping tanker. Absolutely no way to drive around them, and breaking into an armoured vehicle belonging to the enemy was not exactly a task that could be done on the fly.

“Soap!” Price suddenly shouted. “Air strike, now!”

You heard a click. Soap had the laser designator in his hand in an instant.

“Air support is being refueled!” Laswell replied, her voice thick with worry. “They’re out of range.”

“Then shoot them!” Price yelled, his voice ringing in your ears. “Shout out their tyres, anything!”

They did.

Or rather, they tried.

Every person with boots still on the ground raised their guns, aiming at the tyres of the trucks now escaping out of the far end of the valley. Only one of them got hit, veering wildly right and left before crashing into the rocks at the side of the road.

But it was a truck. Not the tanker. The tanker full of dangerous chemicals that was now disappearing into the sunset, still guarded by a KorTac vehicle on either side.

You’d failed. At the last second, you’d managed to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory.

And you’d watched the man you trusted - the man you’d let hold you in his arms - betray everything you stood for.

Chapter Text

The journey coming back from the mission had a completely different tone that when you had left. Now, instead of nervous anticipation and the strange giddiness that usually accompanied a big mission, things felt… flat. No congratulations came through the radio. Soap was silent for the entire ride back in the helicopter. You didn’t bother to try and change that. There was too much going on in your own head.

Logically, you knew you should be upset about the mission’s failure. Watching the tanker full of chems drive off into the sunset had certainly been a gut-wrenching moment.

But seeing König refuse to shoot a KorTac soldier? That was a whole different kettle of fish.

No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t rationalise it. It felt obvious that at that moment, KorTac were getting away. There was no one around that distracted him, no one that called him over and left him unable to take the shot. He had every opportunity.

And he let that KorTac operator get away. He let your enemy get away.

Soap hadn’t mentioned it, so neither had you. It was such a chaotic moment that you didn’t even know if he had seen it. It was probable that no one on the ground did. After all, you’d watched them all scatter to try and stop the KorTac vehicles leaving.

Were you… were you the only person that knew?

It was impossible to know. All you knew was what you saw.

Your brain stayed that way, stewing and agonising over every little detail, for the entire journey back to base and all of dinner. Both had been solemn affairs. After the helo landed, Soap had led the both of you to the mess hall for a very much needed meal.

Today the cafeteria served pasta. Not quite as nice as a roast dinner or a fry up, but hey – this was the military. You’d take what you were given. Just like you were trained to.

Much like your eerily quiet helicopter ride, dinner was… subdued. After such a defeat, it seemed that no one was really in the mood to joke around anymore. It was kind of hard to laugh at your quickly incoming demise. Everyone sat together like usual, but mostly you all just ate your food quietly and headed off to bed. It was over now. You’d failed. There wasn’t much more to be said. The debrief in the morning was sure to outline all of your mistakes clear as day, anyway.

You were one of the last to finish eating. The only people you left behind as you finally got up from the table were Price and Gaz.

Whilst you deposited your tray onto the correct counter for dirty crockery, your brain was still whirring, still reeling from the events of the day. Still thinking over every shot you took, and agonising over the one that you didn’t. Should you have shot that KorTac operator? Would that have been enough to silence the issue in your mind?

One thing was clear. You were never going to get any sleep like this.

And so, instead of leaving the mess hall and heading straight to your room, your feet took you elsewhere. Down the hallway, past your door, and around the comer. Up the stairs – to the single row of empty rooms before the officer’s corridor. Well, all empty except one. Only one person slept in a room on this row. The one man they’d had no idea where to place, considering his unusual arrival.

König’s door felt almost as imposing as standing in front of him had, when you’d first met him. He’d been to your room several times, but the roles had never been reversed like this. In fact, now that you were thinking about it, you hadn’t seen the inside of anyone else’s room for the entire time you’d been serving on base.

One last deep breath. You had to get answers.

Knock knock!

For a moment, nothing. Silence.

Then, from somewhere behind the door, a sound caught your attention. The shuffling of feet. Or was it the rustling of fabric?

“Come in!” A tired, accented voice called.

The sudden rush of nervousness was startling. Though you’d spent hours emotionally preparing for this conversation, now that it was upon you, it felt different. What you were about to say was a serious accusation. Against one of the people you’d come to trust the most, no less.

You could only hope he would have a damn good excuse.

“Hello?” König’s voice made you jump out of your skin. Shit. You’d spent too long out here, thinking.

The sound of approaching footsteps jolted you into action, causing you to reach for the door handle. But it was too late. Before you even laid a finger on it, it flew away.

The door opened. König stepped out, looking around in confusion for a moment before he looked down, finally spotting you. His eyes creased into a smile.

“Oh, Private.” He said, softly. His tone was filled with so much warmth, it made your gut churn. You tried to ignore it. “It’s you. Come in, come on.”

Without a second thought, König was disappearing inside his room, waving a hand at you to follow. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. For you to be alone, in his room. Where he had all the control.

Where he might have hidden weaponry.

No. You told yourself, stepping through the threshold. That’s ridiculous. Don’t think things like that.

Even for a military living space, König’s quarters were plain. It felt like every soldier had at least one personal item with them – a photo of family, a religious symbol, something – but you now knew that fact to not be true. Because if König had any sentimental items or decorations at all, he was sure as shit doing a good job of hiding them. Every surface was completely clean and cleared. It almost looked like no one lived in this room.

Although, you were a little jealous to see that he’d been given a double bed. That was unheard of, for a soldier with basically no rank such as himself. Whether that was because these rooms were best for watching over him closely – due to their proximity to the officer’s corridor – or because of his size, you didn’t care. Either way, it felt unfair.

“So.” König clasped his hands together, taking a seat on the side of his bed. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come.

“I need to talk to you.” You began, your voice a little shaky. “About the mission, I mean.”

“Oh?” His brows knitted together in a frown. He gestured towards his desk chair, inviting you to sit down. “What about the mission?”

For a moment, you hesitated, staying standing. Part of you didn’t want to get comfortable. The shorter this conversation could be, the better. That was the idea, anyway. However, in practice, König’s soft expression and apparent want for you to be comfortable caught you off guard. You complied, awkwardly perching on the edge of the chair.

“Well, there’s really no easy way to say this.” You said, wringing your hands together in your lap. “But I saw something, and I had to talk to you about it.”

At this, König leant backwards. He had a single eyebrow raised in curiosity, though he didn’t interrupt. The task of filling the tense air in the room was left to you.

“Uh…” You trailed off for a moment, trying to work out how exactly to phrase it. Every rehearsal in your head on the way back to base suddenly flew out of your mind. “I saw you. I saw you refuse to shoot that KorTac operator.”

Silence.

Deafening, nauseating silence.

König’s brows furrowed. In the space of a moment, he had straightened up and was leaning forwards, staring you down with intent. You could hear the smack of his lips as his mouth clearly opened to answer, and closed again, dumbfounded.

In the end, he gave you a shrug.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He replied. His voice was flat. Emotionless.

Now it was your turn to frown. It felt impossible that he wouldn’t.

“The… the guy in the sunglasses.” You clarified, nervousness making you stumble over the words a little. “When everyone was scrambling for the vehicles. You didn’t shoot him. I saw you.”

Another pause. This was excruciating. König leant back, eyes watching you carefully.

“I killed sixteen people today.” He answered, calmly. “You are questioning me about one man?”

“Yes.” You answered, a little too quickly. He was clearly avoiding your real question and it was starting to grate on you a little. “Because you should’ve killed seventeen people today, and you didn’t.”

“Would you shoot Soap?”

That came out of nowhere. You blinked a couple of times, processing the statement.

“Well, no,” you slowly admitted, before adding, “but I would do anything to protect the squad.”

Something in König’s expression darkened. He seemed to look at you with new eyes, glaring at you with cold accusation. It sent a chill down your spine. He’d never looked at you like this before.

“So you’d kill your friend over a moral disagreement?” He retorted, agitation leaking into his tone.

“War is not about friends.” You replied, softly. “It doesn’t matter how much I like someone, if they’re fighting for the enemy, then – ”

“War is all about friends.” König cut you off, but his voice was still calm. Just. There was a hint of terseness behind it that you couldn’t ignore. “I have been fighting in them for two decades, Private. There is always a grey area. Things are not so black and white as ‘enemy’ and ‘friends.’”

That made you freeze for a moment. Since he kept his face hidden, you’d never really considered his age.  He was certainly older than you. But, you knew, not wiser.

“That operator, whoever he is, is fighting for KorTac.” You said, firmly. “KorTac, the organisation actively trying to kill us. That makes him our enemy, a threat. There’s nothing grey about that.”

König scoffed, as if what you were saying was ridiculous. It made your blood boil.

“You’re not my superior.” He snapped. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

“You’re putting me in danger! Me, and everyone else on this base!” You cried. All of this arguing and anger was making panic crawl up your throat, your muscles tensing up instinctively.

No one spoke. He didn’t back down, didn’t even look away. It was so weird, and unfamiliar. That’s what made it so scary. It felt like any second, he might laugh, revealing the whole thing was just a big prank.

But no such revelation came. Here he was, the man you cared for, the man who you thought cared for you, staring down at you with such cold fury.

Doubt was starting to gnaw away at your mind. If he cared for you like he said he did, how could he treat you this way? If he was so honest and loyal to SpecGru like he claimed, then how could he not understand your fear? Why wouldn’t he talk to you about this plainly? Why did he have to be so defensive?

Was Ghost right? Was that fucking bastard right all along?

All of a sudden, he stood up. It made you rise to your feet as well. The last thing you needed was for the height difference between you to be exaggerated. Now was not the time to feel small.

“I think you should go.” He declared, glancing pointedly at the door.

Everything about his demeanour felt alien. The way his fists were clenched, the way his eyes were narrowed, the way he seemed to loom over you menacingly. It made your insides curl.

Flashes of his warm gaze, the way he held your face as he kissed you, passed across your mind's eye. God, it fucking hurt.

“Wait, König, I – ”

“Oh, no.” He cut over you, dismissing any thoughts you were trying to express with a shake of his head. “It’s too late. I know how you feel now. How you really feel. I am your enemy, hm?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” You sighed, the urge to make him understand causing you to sound a little more impatient that you intended. All you needed was for him to prove his own innocence, to give you a single reason to trust him. “I just meant – ”

“I know what you meant.” He didn’t let you finish again, waving an angry hand in your face. “Allow me to help you understand me.”

He surged forwards, clapping a hand on your shoulder. It made you flinch. His grip was so tight that it hurt a little.

This wasn’t like him. This wasn’t like him at all.

Who was this man?

“I do not answer to you. You are not my superior.” He growled. His eyes wandered up and down your body. “You’re just a Private. You’re in charge of nothing, and no one. Certainly not me. Got that?”

Your heart was pounding in your chest. Beating against your rib cage, pumping adrenaline through your veins. His fingers were digging into the soft flesh of your shoulder. A lump formed in your throat.

No one had ever thrown your rank in your face like that before. Certainly not a man as seemingly as kind and gentle as König. It stung.

“Yeah, you used to be a colonel.” You spat back, your emotions taking control of your body for you. “We get it. We know.”

König recoiled. His hand left your shoulder like you’d burnt him. Somehow, that was what hurt the most.

“All your years of service, and what are you? What have you been, little girl?” He snarled.

In any other context, that nickname might’ve been something you liked. But not like this. The way he said it made it sound so… insulting. Like it was the worst crime he could imagine.

You were still scrambling for a defence, for any reply that would help you stand your ground, when he kept talking.

“See?” He said, folding his arms tightly. “You have no answer. Because the answer is nothing.”

Nothing.

The word seemed to slice across your skin, cutting deeper than any blade could. It was like every word coming out of his mouth was designed to hurt you. You tried to swallow, but the lump in your throat made it difficult. Tears stung at the corners of your eyes.

Tears that you were determined not to let fall.

“I have been defending you from day one.” You spat. “Who got you your job? Me. Who defended you, when everyone had their doubts? Me!”

He didn’t reply, didn’t even have time to, as you swept up towards him in a flurry, pointing a finger up at him.

“If turns out that you’re the traitor they thought you were, then that’s on me. If my friends die because you won’t shoot someone, then that’s on me.” You continued, the emotion thick in your voice. “They trust me. Like I trusted you.”

You paused for a moment. The air inside König’s room was very still. Part of you had expected him to say something to that.

When he remained silent, you let out a huff.

“If I have nothing, and you’re here because of my word, then you have even less.” You spat. “So, fuck you.”

And with that, you stormed out of his room, letting the door slam behind you. It was only when you took the first few steps down the corridor that the tears finally started flowing.

Chapter Text

The sound of the door slamming shut behind you echoed down the corridor. It was probably a bad idea, considering how close König’s room was to the officer’s rooms, but you were far too upset to care about that right now. Then, the only sound was the thumping of your boots as you stormed away, practically throwing yourself down the stairs.

Tears filled your eyes, falling down your cheeks and blurring your vision. It made the soldiers you flew past at the bottom of the stairs into faceless shapes, mere obstacles in your path back to privacy. A calmer, more rational version of yourself probably would’ve been embarrassed. A display of emotion like this, in front of your fellow soldiers, was unheard of.

But right now, you didn’t give a fuck. All you could care about was putting one foot in front of the other, getting back to your room as quick as humanly possible.

The second you reached your door, you flung it open, stomping inside. It closed firmly behind you.

At first, the silence was comforting. You were back. Back in your own space, back in privacy, back behind a closed door that hid your weakness from the world.

But as time went on, it grew more uncomfortable. Whilst you threw yourself onto your bed, burying your face in your pillow, thoughts were zipping through your head. Now you were alone, there was nothing to distract you from them.

Konig’s face as you came to his door. The way he smiled at you so warmly. The memory of watching that smile drop upon hearing your initial accusation. His defensiveness. Then, his quick rise to anger.

Did you go too far? Did you go far enough? Should you report him? Could he be trusted?

What a pig. What a fucking –

Knock knock!

Someone was knocking on – no, rapping their knuckles on – your door.

It spurred you into action. You leapt from the bed, hurriedly wiping your face as best you could. Whoever it was, you didn’t want them to know you’d been crying. That would only invite questions. Questions you couldn’t answer.

So great was the urge to appear normal, you forgot to even check through the peephole before you flung the door open.

“Hey, uh, this isn’t the best…” You began greeting, but stopped yourself when you saw who it was. “Oh. Uh. Good evening, sir.”

“You’re upset.” Ghost declared, his eyes wandering down to your tear-stained cheeks. You sniffed hard, shaking your head. A hand went to your eyes, wiping the last remnants of your emotional outburst away. Ghost stayed stoic, staring at you with an intensity that was difficult to bear. “Who was it?”

“What?” You asked, startled by the sudden interrogation. Of all the people to come to your door, why did it have to be Ghost? Why did it have to be the one person that you really didn’t want to see you like this? You had to blink a couple of times, processing what he was saying. “I’m, uh, I’m fine. How the hell did you…?”

He took a second, casting a meaningful glance up and down the corridor. The people you’d walked past were gone, but the low rumble of conversation echoing around the corners told you that they weren’t far away. This wasn’t exactly a private setting. The walls had ears around here.

“Let me in, Private.” Ghost said, his voice sounding a little strained. “We need to talk, and I won’t do it out here.”

You thought about that for a moment. Like you had any choice in the matter at all. Eventually, you nodded, standing aside to let him pass.

“Okay, sir.” You sighed. “Come on in.”

He didn’t need telling twice, striding confidently into your private space like he owned it. You shut the door, moving to sit down on the edge of your bed. Ghost was like a statue in the centre of the room. Unmoving. Observing. Just like every other time he’d come in, he seemed to do a mental check of the room. His eyes swept over your possessions one by one, as if he was making mental notes on their placements.

You were still in shock. Ghost was here. He must have come straight to your door. It felt like every time you left a conversation with König, you walked right into Ghost. How was he always right there?

Just how often did he check that bloody CCTV feed on his phone? The feeling of your privacy being violated was like a cold snake slithering down your spine.

“So.” He finally said, gazing down at you expectantly. “Now’s the part where you tell me why you were cryin’.”

That made anxiety grip your insides like a vice. Like the very thought of telling Ghost what just happened made your whole body recoil.

At that moment, you knew. You knew that no matter how suspicious you were, you couldn’t report König right now. He just… meant too much to you.

Ghost would not share your hesitance. He would be in Price’s office faster than you could say ‘wait’.

“I wasn’t crying, sir.” You protested, trying to get a hold of your breathing. “I’m fine.”

There was a moment of silence. Your eyes were glued to your lap, unable to withstand meeting Ghost’s intense glare. Your fingers were twisting together, fidgeting and picking at your skin.

A pair of gloved hands took hold of yours. Ghost was squatting down, stooping to your level so he could look you in the eyes.

God, he looked angry. It really wasn’t helping the overwhelming urge to break down into sobs that bubbled up inside you once more.

“Private. Let’s not lie, and let’s not pretend. Alright?” Ghost said, voice strained like he was holding himself back. “I know you were crying. I saw you. Just give me a name.”

Panic squeezed your insides tighter. Telling him could only be a recipe for disaster. Even the best case scenario would probably result in König’s immediate termination. Worst case… you didn’t dare to think what Ghost might do.

Plus, he’d told you to be careful. After everything that had already happened, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of saying he told you so.

“No.”

“… No?”

“No.” You sniffed, trying to work up the courage to say the next sentence. “Because if I do, then you’ll… leave.”

That seemed to take him by surprise. He froze for a moment, muscles locking in place like a robot being switched off.

The silence was excruciating. The urge to fill it, overpowering.

“And I… I don’t want you to leave.”

He remained in place, eyes glaring at you, wide and unblinking.

Finally, he sighed.

“Just let me fix it.” He said, flatly.

Your heart jumped into your mouth. No. You shook your head.

“You can’t.” You mumbled, sadly. “You can’t fix it.”

His hand gripped yours, tighter now. He seemed to process your words for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm himself.

“Yes, I can.” He declared, softly. “I can fix it. I can go turn a cadet into a cadaver.”

“No, Ghost.” You said, placing a hand on his shoulder. Part of you felt nervous about forgoing his rank, but you just needed to get through to him. To have him finally listen to you. To capture his attention tighter than the grip his rage had upon him. “That won’t help me. That’s not what I want.”

His eyes met yours. For a moment, you thought he might tell you off. But then, he reached up a gloved hand, his finger up brushing against your cheek. You felt the tear moisten the material even before he held it up for you to see.

“Someone hurt you.” He growled. “I won’t let them get away with it. I’ll rip their bloody face off.”

“Ghost, please.” You said, moving his hand aside. After all, you knew you were crying. His tear-stained finger was not a surprise to you, like it was to him. “Listen to me. I don’t want you to – ”

“Who was it? Why won’t you tell me?” He suddenly probed; his anger directed at you. It was startling, to say the least. He seemed to search your eyes for a moment, looking for answers. “Was it someone I know?”

Then, Ghost’s face dropped. Darkness fell over his eyes.

“Was it him?” He demanded. “Because I swear to fucking Christ, I will end hi – ”

“Simon!” You cried.

He froze. You froze.

Did you really just say that?

Did that really just come out of your mouth?

In front of you, Ghost was as still as a statue. Eyes wide and unblinking, like you’d just tried to reach up and rip the mask off his face. It made you sick with anxiety.

This felt like a trap. No matter what you said, he was barrelling straight over you, not listening to what you were trying to tell him. Nothing was working. And you’d heard Price use that name on the night out, when he couldn’t be calmed in the smoking area. You’d seen him respond, instantly.

You knew it was his ‘real’ name. Everyone in 141 had read each other’s files.

But you’d never heard anyone except Price use it.

“… What?” Ghost’s voice was thick with shock, barely audible even in the still air of your room.

“I’m sorry.” You stammered, only just getting over the surprise yourself. “I don’t know why I said that.”

Something passed over Ghost’s eyes. Something that looked awfully like sorrow.

“No one calls me that.” He murmured. You shook your head, cursing yourself for your own stupidity. Any second now, he would blow up. You just knew it.

“I know. I’m sorry.” You continued, keeping your eyes low and your body still. “I won’t call you that. I don’t know why I did. I just…”

You trailed off, expecting him to cut in and punish you for speaking out of line. But… he didn’t. He stayed still and silent, watching and waiting for you to finish that thought.

Another pause. A long sigh escaped you.

“I don’t want to be alone.” You admitted, emotion thick in your throat. “I want you to stay. I don’t want you to leave me here, alone.”

Ghost glanced over to the door. After a moment, he moved, rising to stand. You followed him up with your eyes, watching as he held a hand out towards you. When you took it, he pulled you up with him, bringing you to your feet.

Now, your bodies were inches away. Close enough to touch. It made your stomach churn, the combination of uncertainty and anxiety making you feel a little sick. What was he doing? Was he angry at you for using his name?

“No.” He finally grunted. “You won’t call me that.”

Your heart pounded harder. Like a war drum ordering the infantry to charge.

It took an age for him to finally sigh, his shoulders dropping ever so slightly.

“You’ll be the death of me, Private.” He murmured, keeping your hand in his. His thumb brushed gently over your fingers.

Your body stayed frozen. Tension across your shoulders and back. It ached a little. Could you have one, just one normal conversation today? One where you weren’t questioned, or goaded, or shouted at?

“I’m sorry.” You sighed, softly. After a moment, a little sob escaped you. “It’s been a shitty day. I need… I really need a hug.”

For a moment, you thought Ghost might reject you. He didn’t move at first, his eyes flicking from yours to your intertwined hands.

But after what felt like forever, his arms wrapped around you in a tight embrace. They snaked around your waist, interlocking at your back. It pulled you towards his chest. You had to turn your head to the side to avoid getting a face full of tactical gear. He felt… warm. And big. His body seemed to envelop yours, his rib cage broader than your shoulders.

His hand went to the back of your head, gently stroking his thumb over your hair. You stayed nestled into him, hands gripping onto whatever loop or pocket on his vest that you could hook your fingers around.

All you could hear was the sound of soft, slow breathing. Yours and Ghost’s. The two of you seemed to sync up for a while, chests rising and falling in time. After the strangeness of being held so close and so tight by Ghost of all people wore off, it felt… nice. Calm. Peaceful.

Eventually, he made a little grunt, shaking you. You picked your head up to see him already gazing down at you.

“You alright?” He asked. You realised that that was the first time he’d actually asked you how you were feeling. It was the first time you had to formulate an answer.

König’s words drifted back to you. You sniffed, hard.

“Do you think I’m nothing?” You mumbled. “All these years in the military, and I have nothing to show for it?”

Ghost’s eyes narrowed, an eyebrow raising in confusion.

“… what?”

“Y’know. I have no rank. Am I nothing?”

“Private.” Ghost murmured, his voice soft. One of his hands cupped the side of your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “That’s ridiculous. You were handpicked by Price to join us.”

“But I – ”

Ghost held a finger to your lips, silencing you.

“Private.” He said, voice slightly more terse. “Do you think they would put me on a team with some nobody? With some nothing that was no good at their job?”

You could see the argument he was trying to make – even if it was a little self-indulgent. But, annoyingly, he did have a point.

“No.” You replied, begrudgingly. “You’re a legend.”

“Okay, I wouldn’t go that far.” He said, dismissively.

You would. Ghost hadn’t been there in your training, when videos of him in battle were exchanged amongst the recruits like revered fables. He didn’t understand the reputation his name held. How his name was whispered through the halls in awe.

How it made his enemies shit their pants.

“Well…” You began, wondering if you should even bother trying to explain the concept to him. He waved a hand, distracting you from your thoughts.

“No. D’you see my point, though? You, Private, are a fully-fledged member of the infamous Task Force 141.” He announced, giving you a reassuring pat on the shoulder. After a second, he chuckled. “Hell, even the big Austrian bastard can’t say that.”

Thoughts of König cut through your mind like knives. It hurt to think of him, to try and untangle the web of mixed, confused feelings inside of you.

“He was a colonel.” You grumbled, softly.

“I don’t care what he was.” He retorted, confidently. “I care what he is. What he is, is under my command.”

This wasn’t a line of conversation you wanted to continue. Any mention of König only served to reopen the wound, causing a fresh ache in your chest. Emotions poured out of it like a torrent of pain. Did you really know him? Was he the man he claimed to be? How were you supposed to know?

“Private. Please.” Ghost took your head in his hands, tilting your face up to look at him. His eyes were screwed up in anger and in pain. The eye black around them was settling into the lines in his skin, showing his age a little. “Tell me what he did.”

You shook your head. “He didn’t do anything.”

That was the very problem. He had done nothing, when the only clear course of action you could see was to act.

Well…

Would you shoot Soap?

“Well, he’s said somethin’ then. Whatever.” Ghost grumbled, not seeming to notice your inner turmoil. “All I know is that it’s got you freaked out.”

He was just a small voice in the back of your mind now, as the cogs started turning. When you’d gone to get the cache, and you’d nearly blown up, König had helped you. Without hesitation. If he was planning on killing you, wouldn’t that have been an easy opportunity? Was he really innocent after all?

But innocent or not, he had reacted so… aggressively. He’d never treated you with such contempt before. The fact that the insults came so easily to him was difficult to ignore.

Gloved hands moved from your face to your shoulders. Ghost was pushing, gently guiding you to sit back down on the edge of your bed. He squatted in front of you, a hand resting on your knee.

“Alright.” He sighed. “Now you’re freaking me out.”

Telling him was not an option. You knew that already. No number of repeated questions or confused looks were going to change your mind. The second you told Ghost what happened, you would set off a chain of events that would lead to König’s termination from SpecGru.

And whilst there was even the tiniest hint of doubt in your mind, you couldn’t do that to him.

“I don’t want to talk to you about König.” You replied, eventually. At the very least, that was true. That was a true fact you could tell Ghost and not feel guilty about lying. “I don’t need you to fix my problems for me.”

His grip on your knee tightened, and then relaxed. He seemed to finally take a breath, finally let his shoulders drop. “What do you want, Private?”

Your eyes drifted downwards, to your bed. The sheets were fresh, clean and dry. So warm and inviting. The urge to climb inside it and never come back out was incredibly strong.

But the thought of being alone, alone with your thoughts, was unbearable.

“You wanna sleep?” Ghost asked, following your gaze. His movement seemed quick, almost energetic, like he was eagerly paying attention to your every move.

You bit your lip, feeling the wave of emotion roll onto shore, filling your eyes with fresh tears. “I’ll never get any sleep like this.”

“Well, ‘course not. You’re still sat up.” Ghost remarked, dryly. “Lay down, close your eyes, go all floppy. Works for me.”

Moisture ran down your cheeks. He tutted softly, bringing his hand up to wipe your face. Something about it made you a little self-conscious. Showing emotion like this wasn’t the norm around here. Hell, before today, you hadn’t let yourself cry in front of a fellow soldier in… years. Never mind your commanding officer.

Never mind Lieutenant Ghost, of Task Force 141.

It was difficult to breathe properly. The occasional sob still escaped you, causing your chest to heave and the air to get caught in your throat.

“Alright, fine.” He finally said, getting to his feet. You watched through bleary eyes as he moved over to your dresser, a hand resting on the top drawer. “Where are your pyjamas?”

You blinked, taken aback. “What?”

“You heard me.” His fingers were tapping impatiently on the wood. “Those big t-shirts you wear to sleep in. Which drawer?”

“Oh. Uh… third one down.”

Quick as lightning, his hand went to the drawer in question, pulling it open. It was the one you kept all your comfy clothes in. The kind of clothes that felt great to wear but weren’t exactly presentable. A lot of it was old, taken from deployment to deployment, worn from countless sleepless nights.

He tossed something to you. A quick check told you that it was an old training t-shirt, with the 141 logo on it. It had accidentally ended up in your laundry and since it had no name tag, you’d kept it. It was a couple of sizes too large for you – perfect for sleeping. Plus, there weren’t even any holes in it yet. This was one of your favourite shirts. It felt strange that out of all the clothes rammed into that drawer, Ghost would pick that particular t-shirt out.

“I wondered where that went.” He grunted.

You froze, glancing between him, and the shirt.

“You… what?”

“It’s mine. Went missin’ in the laundry a few weeks ago.”

“It’s yours?”

“You ever seen one of those t-shirts without a name on it before?”

In truth, you hadn’t. It was your favourite thing about the shirt. All of your training shirts were loudly emblazoned with your name and rank. Since Ghost never wore t-shirts like this in public, you had had no idea that that was the reason why.

“I guess not.” You mumbled. He chuckled in reply, before falling into silence. Notably, he didn’t ask for it back.

It was Ghost’s shirt. You’d been going to sleep practically every night wearing Ghost’s t-shirt.

…  Now it was definitely your favourite.

You had no time to consider this, however, because something out of the corner of your eye made you freeze. Clearly, Ghost had started picking through your pile of sweatpants, because he was now holding the one time in that drawer you didn’t want him to see. The thing you’d shoved into the bottom of it and tried not to think too hard about.

He was holding his scarf.

Your heart went into your mouth. You knew you should’ve returned the fucking thing to him. But something inside of you drove you to keep it.

As if by having it, you could own part of Ghost somehow. Part of him no one else got to see.

Thankfully, he didn’t say anything. You saw him stare at him for a few seconds, one of his eyebrows raised. Then, with an amused little grunt, he laid it back down into the drawer and pulled out a pair of sweatpants instead. Something inside you knotted your tight with emotion. He was saving you the embarrassment of having it pointed out. Why he would do such a thing for you, you didn’t know.

“Here.” Ghost said, tossing them over, as well. “Put them on. I’ll be back.”

You froze.

“Wait, what? No.” One of your hands hovered in mid-air, outstretched as if you had any hope of stopping him. “Where are you going?”

“Relax, Private.” Ghost assured you, his voice soft and just a little tired. “I’m just gonna get my kit off. I’ve been wearin’ this tactical shite all day.”

“You promise?” You pressed, leaning forwards. In order to get to his quarters, he would have to walk past König’s room. The image of him storming inside and demanding answers made you sick to your stomach. “Nothing else?”

Ghost folded his arms, leaning against your door. Amusement danced in his eyes, glinting at you behind his mask. “Straight there, straight back. Promise.”

You studied him for just a moment longer. To his credit, his demeanour was a drastic contrast to when he had originally come in. Now, instead of his hackles raised and his body stiff, his posture was relaxed, and open. It looked like he really had calmed down. For Ghost, it seemed unlikely, but the evidence was right there in front of you.

“Alright.” You nodded, slowly. Part of you couldn’t help noting that he was letting you have the power for once. He didn’t need your permission to leave. Yet, he was staying until he had it.

And once he had it, he didn’t waste any time. You got a single, silent nod from him before he disappeared through your door, letting it softly close behind him.

Chapter Text

Solitude.

Silence.

You did your best to focus on getting changed, your fingers fiddling with countless buckles strapped to your aching frame, but it was difficult. Without anything to distract you, your thoughts went straight to König. Replaying every line of conversation. Everything he said. Everything you did. Every insult, accusation, snide remark…

What a fucking mess.

Finally, the tac vest came off. It got laid on top of your dresser. Finally, you could work at unbuttoning the shirt of your fatigues, freeing your skin from the layers of sweat and dirt caked into the fabric. A few granules of sand fell to the ground as you disrobed, the remnants of the hours you’d spent laying in the dirt next to Soap. All in vain, in the end.

Everything went straight into the laundry. Once you started getting changed, it felt like you went into automatic mode. Your body moved for you like it did after every mission, taking you out of the old clothes and into the new.

It did feel damn good. To be covered in warm, soft fabric. Maybe by peeling off your soldier’s outfit, you were also peeling away the harsh words directed at you earlier. Was the girl that heard them was a different person, one you could step away from and stop being for a moment? God, you needed that.

A knocking sounded. Your attention snapped into reality.

“It’s unlocked!” You called, vaguely self-conscious about raising your voice. You didn’t share a wall with Gaz or Soap, but they weren’t exactly out of earshot. The entire corridor tended to carry loud sounds easily.

The door opened just a crack, hovering in place. A gruff voice drifted into the room. “You decent?”

You nodded, before realising he couldn’t see you and feeling a little silly. “Yeah!”

Ghost came in. He was dressed in the casual clothes you’d seen him wearing several times previously – hard skull mask swapped for a soft balaclava with a printed skull design, black hoodie, and dark sweatpants tucked into combat boots. Combat boots that he was currently taking off, leaving them placed neatly by the end of your bed.

Once he had done that, he straightened up, looking you up and down. Something about it felt a little exposing. Maybe it was the lack of a bra.

“Well? What are you waitin’ for?” He asked, expectantly. You had no idea what he was talking about. He turned, gesturing to your bed. “Get in.”

You furrowed your brows. As usual, he wasn’t explaining what was going on in his head and it left you in the dark. You frozen, eyes darting between him and the bed.

“What is happening right now?” You retorted, a little dumbfounded. “Are you tucking me in or something?”

Ghost cocked his head at you. For the first time today, amusement creased the corners of his eyes.

“Why? D’you want me to? You want a little kiss on the forehead, too?”

“What? No! I mean, I just – ”

“Private.” Ghost cut over you, stepping forwards to put a hand on your arm. “You need sleep. You need company. I will accompany you whilst you sleep. No funny business. That alright with you?”

Oh.

You gave him a single nod. Your throat was incredibly dry. “Yeah.”

He used his grip on you to gently start pulling, tugging you towards your bed. “Get. In.”

“Ooh.” A wry smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. “Is that an order, sir?”

“No. I’m not your commanding officer right now.” Ghost grunted, pointedly pulling the quilts back so you could get in easier. “Now for god’s sake, just get in.”

After a second, he seemed to slump a little, his shoulders falling an inch or so.

“… Please.”

Please?

Please?

Did Ghost just say that to you, or had you gone completely insane? You were pretty damn sure you’d never heard that word leave his mouth before. It was compelling, to say the least.

“Alright, alright.” You nodded, moving past him to do as he’d asked. You climbed in, pulling the quilts over you. It was warm, and soft. Heaven, after such a long and gruelling day.

But things were still weird. Ghost was standing right next to the side of your bed, looking down at you expectantly.

“Move over.”

“… What?”

“Did Johnny set off an explosion right in your ear today? There’s no room. Move over.”

The realisation that Ghost was planning on getting into bed with you made your heart start pounding. Where was this going? Did he think you were going to…?

You shuffled over as bed you could, until you were mere inches away from the wall. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a very big bed – it was only a single. And Ghost was, in fact, a very big man.

“This is the best I can do.” You mumbled, a little haughtily. “We can’t all have fancy officer’s quarters.”

Ghost raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment. He got in, the springs groaning and creaking under him as he did. The weight made the whole mattress dip, almost making you fall into him. You jumped back, and then yelped, as your back touched the freezing cold wall.

“Shit!” You squeaked, leaping away from the chilly surface. Unfortunately, there was nowhere to go except into Ghost. You ended up pressed against him, arching your back to avoid that happening again.

Very nice. Way to play it cool.

But then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, Ghost’s hand snaked around you. It reached around your back, coming to rest at your waist. He used it to hold you in place, keeping you at his side. It felt strong, and warm. Like a big protective blanket.

Your pulse quickened, heart beating like a drum.

“Cold, huh?”

“Why, no, that was just for fun.” You grumbled sarcastically. It was so difficult to quell the surge of nerves inside your body. “I thought I’d just wriggle around for the hell of it.”

At that, Ghost chuckled. It felt strange, to be able to make him laugh. Obviously displays of mirth weren’t exactly his bread and butter. His body lurched with every raspy breath, jostling you around a little. You placed a hand on his chest for stability, trying desperately not to think of the scars and tattoos his hoodie concealed. You were still far too upset about König. This really wasn’t the time for that.

“Alright, keep your knickers on.” Ghost replied, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “Don’t go cuddling the wall then.”

“I’m not!” You protested, perhaps a little too eagerly. His teasing was getting to you, and in your already anxious state, it was impossible not to rise to it just a little. Ghost laughed again, his grip tightening ever so slightly.

“No, you’re not.” He chortled. His thumb started gently stroking your waist, rubbing slowly back and forth. “My name’s not ‘the wall’.”

The statement made you hyper aware of every point of contact your body held against his. How your head rested on his shoulder, your hand grasped his chest, your torso pressed against his side and your feet brushed against his legs. His whole being seemed to radiate heat, warming you to the core.  It was a terribly intimate scenario for soldiers of your respective ranks to be in.

But, you supposed, it didn’t beat the kiss. The hot, hungry moment of passion where your bodies took over and you gave in to every dark, shameful thought you’d had about him over the past few weeks.

“You’re the one who told me to get in bed, and then wrapped your arm around me.” You pointed out.

At this, Ghost raised an eyebrow. After a moment, he lifted his arm, removing it from your person.

“Go on, then.” He challenged, eyes darting over to the cold patch of mattress you’d abandoned. “Escape me.”

… Fuck.

Your gaze joined his, glancing at the empty space. There were so many reasons you didn’t want to move into it. The cold wall was at the bottom of the list.

Upon noticing your hesitation, Ghost nodded.

“That’s what I thought.” He said smugly, wrapping his arm back around you and pulling you in close. His voice was right in your ear now, your head pulled into his chest at such an angle that you could no longer see his face. “I never know what you want, but I always know what you need.”

A second passed. He must’ve reached for the light, because as the bed creaked and his torso tilted, pulling you with him, the room suddenly went dark. Not completely pitch black, due to the light streaming in under the door from the corridor, but dark enough that you got the message.

“Now.” Ghost declared, settling into place. “Close your eyes. Fall unconscious.”

“Are you going to sleep like that? In your mask?” You suddenly asked, a little curious. There had been no rustling of fabric behind you to indicate that he might’ve taken it off.

“Yeah.” He replied. For a moment, there was silence. You could hear his heartbeat. “Well, not exactly like this.”

His hand suddenly left your side. As soon as his chest began to rise from beneath you, you quickly sat up. His hands went to the hem of his hoodie and, in a move that made your chest pound, he grabbed it and pulled it over his head. Even in the low light, his pale flesh was more than visible, flexing and stretching as he leaned over and dropped the item of clothing on the ground. When he settled back into bed, he pulled you back down with him, placing your head on his chest once more.

Fuck.

Now you could really hear his heartbeat. Not only that – now his whole body seemed to call out to you. The warmth of his skin, the way his muscles hardened when he moved. When he flexed, it was as if his form hardened to stone. Every point of contact made your insides clench. Partially with nerves, and partially with excitement. He was a dangerous man. It was like feeling the pricking heat of your skin starting to burn and knowing you should step away from the fire. Sleeping had never felt so unachievable.

Getting into bed with a man was like sleeping next to a hungry dog. Getting into bed with a man like Ghost was like sleeping next to a tiger.

Beautiful, but deadly.

You placed your hand back on his chest and they were met with an amalgamation of raised, white scars. The urge to run a finger along them, to trace their path along his skin, was strong.

“You good?” Ghost asked, his arm finding its place around your back. His hand settled in your hair, gently brushing his fingers through the strands. “This alright?”

You nodded, gently. Objectively, this was wrong – wrong to let your commanding officer hold you like this, wrong to entertain him and König at once, wrong to trust him – but you couldn’t help it. After all the tears, and all the emotion, it just felt nice to be held.

“Yes.” You breathed, stretching your legs out. They brushed against Ghost’s. He didn’t move away. “This is… yeah.”

He made a noise. A small grunt of satisfaction, or amusement. His hand kept playing with your hair, reaching to tuck a strand behind your ear.

Your eyes stayed trained on his flesh, looking down at the parts of his body not covered up by the quilt covers. Unable to resist any longer, you let your hand wander, moving to trace a finger over the lines of one of his tattoos. Down the barrel of the rifle, to the point where a raised white scar cut the piece in half. You let yourself start tracing over that next, running gently along it.

“Havin’ fun?” Ghost suddenly said. You lifted your head up to look at him, feeling a little sheepish. Was he going to tell you off? You probably should have kept your hands to yourself.

Your hand froze in place, halfway down the scar. “Sorry. Should I stop?”

To your surprise, he shook his head.

“It’s fine.” He leaned backwards once more, head back on the pillow. You stayed still for only a moment longer, before continuing your descent, tracing your finger down to the end of the scar. “I get it. I’d want to touch me too.”

You bit back a smile, shaking your head. The comment was a little funny, sure, but you were mostly relieved. Ghost was a private man and seeing his body like this felt… intrusive. Like he was letting you in on something that others weren’t.

“Whatever.” You retorted, trying to sound nonchalant. “I just think your tattoos are pretty.”

At that, he snorted. “… Pretty. That’s a new one.”

Your head rested back down on his shoulder, your hand moving back to his arm. Every inch of you longed to keep going, to get a good proper look at everything he was willing to show you, but you didn’t. Both of you had training in the morning. This wasn’t the right time.

His hand moved from your hair, back down to your waist. In some ways, the feeling of having his big arm wrapped so protectively around you was comforting. It didn’t matter who came through that door – they wouldn’t be able to harm a hair on your head.

However, they would sure as shit have a lot to say. Having Ghost here wasn’t totally relaxing because in reality, if someone did come in, you would be busted. There weren’t many explanations that would excuse a Private like yourself being cuddled up to her commanding officer. Her big, strong, muscular commanding officer…

But it didn’t matter. It was happening already. There was no way you were going to turn him away now, and face the thoughts of König alone.

You shuffled your legs again, trying to get comfortable. Ghost reached down with his free hand, and pulled your thigh forwards so that it rested over his legs. It was more intimate, but far more comfortable.

“Is that ok?” Now it was your turn to check. “My leg isn’t too heavy?”

Ghost let out a snort.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He said. “I can handle a short-arse like you.”

You frowned, even though he couldn’t see it. “I am not that short. You’re just ta – ”

“Go to sleep.” Ghost interrupted you, abruptly. “Just be a good girl and close your bloody eyes.”

That made your whole body tense up. Like those two words served as a call for action in the deprived part of your mind. You felt a wave of arousal wash down your body.

“You said no funny business.” You reminded him, pointedly.

“What’s wrong with calling you a good girl?” He retorted. You could fucking hear the smirk, even if you couldn’t see his eyes. “That’s a perfectly innocent phrase.”

No it wasn’t. It wasn’t and he knew it.

A few seconds passed, your mind desperately trying to come up with an answer to that. When nothing came, he gave you a little nudge.

“Your eyes closed yet?”

“… Yes.”

That was a lie. You closed them just after you said it.

But he didn’t have to know that.

“Good girl.” He purred, his deep voice rumbling over the words. Something about his voice saying that so close to your ear made your skin tingle. Like he’d plugged you in to charge. “Such a good girl. Now, goodnight.”

Christ. Maybe you’d never sleep. Maybe you’d just lay here and think about every line on his skin, every curve of his finely sculpted muscle -

“Fine.” You mumbled. “Goodnight.”

For a long time, you did lay awake. Listening to the sound of his breathing, still barely able to believe that he was here, here in your room, in your bed. His body was so warm. It was like the best electric blanket you’d ever used. You couldn’t help but lean into him, desperate to leech the heat right out of him. Maybe you could put your freezing cold feet on his nice warm leg.

Probably a bad idea. He’d already made it clear that the conversation was over.

Eventually though, your body relaxed and your mind finally managed to shut up. You greeted sleep like an old friend, falling willingly into its grasp. The last thing you remember was an idle worry that you might snore.

Chapter Text

Your eyes opened slowly, at first. Sleep was hard to shake, like a thick blanket that threatened to pull you back under. A warm inviting hand to drag you back into the comforting darkness of unconsciousness.

The first thing you noticed was that you were alone.

No longer was Ghost in your bed, your head on his chest, his muscular arm wrapped around you. Now you were laying alone in your sheets, your leg hanging out of the covers. You sucked it back into safety immediately.

On some level, you were a little disappointed that Ghost hadn’t stayed until you woke. However, you weren’t surprised. There were a million reasons for him to leave early. Most prominent was the risk of getting caught. The fear that someone would see you both leaving your room together and figure out what had happened was obviously too great to ignore. Plus, he was the Lieutenant. He almost certainly had better things to do on a morning than lay around in bed.

Thoughts of König suddenly came back to you, hitting you like a train. Guilt and shame and anger and sorrow.

Then, thoughts of Ghost. More guilt.

But not just that. There was something else there. Not as hot as passion, but not as cold as indifference.

Could it be… the warmth of affection?

No. That was ridiculous. A man like Ghost would never return such a feeling, and so there was no point entertaining it.

It was then that something caught your eye, keeping you from falling back asleep. There, on your bedside table, was a note. A note that you hadn’t put there.

Sleeping Beauty -

See you at training. 0800. Don’t be late.

Ghost

Even though it was so basic, something about it was a little touching. The thought of Ghost hesitating before he left, looking down on your sleeping form, deciding to scribble out a quick note…

It was very unlike him.

And yet, he had done it. For you.

Anyway. These were thoughts to entertain later. You had clothes to put on and training to get to. It was only 7:15. That left you plenty of time.

It didn’t take long to get your kit on. It was strange, though. You’d left it chucked carefully over your dresser and the floor last night, but this morning, it had all been folded and placed neatly on top of your dresser.

Another little thing that Ghost had done before leaving, presumably.

God, he was confusing.

You ended up arriving at the gym a little early, though you were still not the first. Soap, Gaz and Price were there already. Price was watching on the sidelines as Gaz and Soap threw each other around on a mat. He was the only one of the three of them that actually noticed you approaching.

“Private!” Price called, a grin spreading across his face. “Morning. Well rested and ready to go?”

Ice shot through your heart. It took everything within you not to react to that.

You certainly were well rested. Possible the most well rested that you’d been in a long time.

“Indeed, sir.” You nodded, trying to quell the sudden flurry of emotion within you. “Aren’t I always?”

At that, he barked out a laugh. One for his hands clapped against your back. It hurt a little, but you didn’t let it show. That was just a minor downside of being in a squad full of huge men. They had a tendency to forget your size.

“Good. You’ll need it.” He nodded. His lips pursed in thought. “You’re with König today.”

“What?” Your head snapped to him, heart in your mouth, beating like a drum. He had no way of knowing, of course. No way of knowing what had happened, or the sheer awkwardness of the situation he was putting you in.

“I want you to practice takedowns.” Price said, not noticing your reaction. Or at the very least, not reacting to it. “If you can handle him, you can handle anyone.”

Unfortunately, that made a lot of sense. You couldn’t really argue with it. Not you’d ever have the gall to argue with a direct order from your captain, of course.

But an interaction with König of all people, first thing in the morning, was definitely not part of your expectations for the day.

“Yes, sir.” You nodded, keeping your eyes low and your breathing measured. Price’s eyes suddenly flicked upwards, over your head.

“Ah. Good morning, Lieutenant.” Price beamed. “Wanna show her some moves until he gets here?”

“Can do, sir.” Ghost’s voice came from behind you. You spun to see him standing surprisingly close. He seemed to be glaring down at you with a glint in his eye. Shock jolted you awake. Where the hell had he been? Why did he always seem to arrive at places right as you did?

“Oh!” You squeaked. “Good morning, sir.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Let’s get you to a mat. Come on.”

You followed behind him as he led you to the corner of the room, to a mat that was relatively isolated from the others. It was only now that you realised what he was wearing. Black sweatpants, black hoodie, skull balaclava…

He was wearing the same clothes.

“Hey.” You hissed, getting close enough that no one else would hear you. “Didn’t feel like getting changed?”

“I changed the important bits.” He shrugged. As the two of you reached your destination he turned, standing squarely in the middle of the mat. His eyes were creased into a teasing grin. “What’s wrong? Worried I might smell like you?”

“No!” You quickly retorted, glancing around to make sure no one has heard that. To your relief, no one was paying attention. “I don’t have a smell.”

“You sure about that?” He asked, stepping aside to allow you enough room to join him on the mat. You did, instinctively putting your fists up in defence.

“Yes.”

“… Alright.”

Silence hung in the air between you. Something about it made you want to keep speaking, to keep defending yourself.

But you had no opportunity, because Ghost’s stance changed. He seemed to tense up a little and it made you snap to attention, your fists held diligently up in front of you.

“When taking down a bigger opponent, you’ve gotta play to your strengths.” He was back in commander mode now, as if the previous conversation had never happened. As if he hadn’t held you close all night. “You’re shorter. So, your centre of gravity is lower.”

You nodded along with him. This was information you already knew.

“Yeah. Go for the legs. Try and knock ‘em down.” You confirmed, predicting his next sentence for him. He raised an eyebrow.

Was that a little too bold? Maybe.

“Be careful how you take him down.” He warned. “‘Cause once you got him on the ground, you don’t want him on top of you.”

Your eye twitched.

He jabbed a finger at you. “Don’t.”

Something inside you lurched. The joke was right there, easily within reach. But thoughts of that nature about König were surprisingly painful, considering everything that was happening with him right now. Considering the way he’d spoken to you, the way he’d looked at you with so much contempt.

“You’ve got to take him down the right way.” Ghost explained, not paying a hint of attention to your internal debate. “Once he’s on the ground, he’s gotta be under your control. Let me show you.”

He seemed to brace himself, gesturing for you to swing at him. But the sound of someone clearing their throat caught your attention. You spun to see König, standing at the end of the mat.

“Guten Morgen.” He quipped, bidding you both a good morning. You felt your body tense, freezing up at just his presence. His eyes swept between the two of you. “Private. The captain said that the two of us are to do some sparring?”

Everyone remained silent for a moment. You glanced nervously at Ghost, to find he was already looking at you. After a moment, you gave him a single nod. He stepped backwards.

“Yes.” You nodded returning your attention to the Austrian still staring down at you. “That’s what he told me.”

“Alright, then.” König murmured. The hulking form of Ghost passed behind him, letting you know that the two of you had been left alone. König noticed him, and his body seemed to relax, his arms unfolding and his shoulders dropping an inch or so.

Your body, however, remained as stiff and taut as ever before. Seeing him brought so many feelings back up. Anger. Betrayal. Sadness. Guilt.

“Listen,” you began slowly, your voice kept low so no one else would hear, “about yesterday, I – ”

“You have been taught some moves already, yes?” König suddenly said, cutting straight over you. You shut your mouth.

Okay. So that’s how he was going to play it.

“Yeah.” You nodded, confidently. Sucking your emotions back inside was as instinctual as breathing. “Price just wants me to practice takedowns.”

“Okay.” He puts his fists up, moving to stand right in front of you. Fuck, he was tall. “Show me.”

This was it. All thoughts of the argument and how hurt you were flew right out of your brain. Now, there was only combat, only your training.

You threw two quick punches, advancing towards him. As you expected, he blocked them easily, taking a step back to keep himself steady.

That’s when you moved.

König’s retreat left his leg open for attack. You quickly moved forwards, hooking your foot around the back of his leg and planting it behind. Then, without thinking, you slammed yourself forwards, your shoulders ramming into his torso.

He stumbled back. His feet started moving, but you had them tangled. He wobbled, stumbled, and fell backwards. His body hit the mat with a thunk.

“Scheiße!” König cursed, tone thick with surprise. Something about it filled you with pride. Maybe he hadn’t expected a little thing like you to be able to take him on. It took him a second to get back to his feet.

“Alright.” He nodded, his breathing a little heavy. “Good. Good start.”

“Thanks.” You mumbled, not really meeting his eyes. It felt strange to talk to him like this, to try and ignore everything that had happened. He didn’t seem to be displaying any emotion, or giving you any indication of his feelings.

Was that in defence? Or was it a move designed to hurt you?

“Now.” He said, moving into the same defensive stance as before. “Try and do that without making me step back.”

You nodded, stopping for a moment to re-assess the situation and consider your next course of action.

Then, you moved. First, you threw your hands in his face. He flinched, his eyes squeezing shut for the slightest of moments.

You ducked. Grabbed his front leg. Lifted it up. He wobbled, clearly surprised by the sudden lack of stability. You adjusted your feet, spun around, and yanked him backwards.

He fell again. His big body crashed down into the mat behind you, releasing a blast of air in a sharp hiss.

But then, a hand clasped around your ankle. You weren’t expecting that. In a panic, you twisted your torso to watch what he was doing.

It was a mistake.

He used your uncertainty to his advantage and pulled, causing you to lose your footing. You tumbled down onto the mat.

“Oof!” You grunted, feeling the air get pushed out of your lungs.

Beside you, König was chuckling slightly, watching you with a hint of confidence in his eyes. You looked over at him, the two of you laying side by side.

“See?” He said, suddenly rising to his knees. “You put me behind you, you open your rear up for attack.”

You nodded, trying to catch your breath as you propped yourself up on your elbows. He gazed down at you for a moment.

In the silence, his eyes softened a little.

“His name is Horangi.” He suddenly said, his voice barely above a whisper.

That caught your attention straight away. Your eyes darted across the room. No one was around. Even Ghost wasn’t paying attention, his focus currently on Soap. When your gaze returned to König, he was still watching you carefully.

So, clearly, he was willing to talk about it.

“Horangi?” You repeated, confused. Obviously, he was talking about the man from the day before, the soldier that König hadn’t killed. It wasn’t a name you’d ever heard before.

“Yes. Kim ‘Horangi’ Hong-jin.” He clarified, offering a hand to help you up. You took it, letting him pull you to a seated position. He leaned in a little closer. “He’s not just anyone. He’s my friend.”

Ah. Now his comment about Soap the day before made sense.

Something inside your gut churned, uncomfortably.

“Well, your friend wants to kill me, and all of my friends.” You retorted, a little coldly. König sighed.

“I will kill every single one of my commanding officers.” He growled, a surprising harshness to his tone. “I will execute every subordinate. The ones I trained. The ones I didn’t. All of them.”

He paused. You waited.

“But I will not kill my friend, if I do not need to.”

That thought rattled around your brain for a moment. Next to you, König got to his feet again, brushing himself off. You did the same thing, but the height difference made you feel like you were still on the ground.

In fairness to him, you could kind of see where he was coming from. Horangi wasn’t the one driving the tanker. His death would not have stopped the mission from being a failure. He hadn’t killed any of your friends.

Yet.

“What if it was me or him?” You hissed, double checking that you were still alone. “What if he had a gun to my head?”

Once again, König seemed to really absorb that thought. He blew out a long breath, the front of his mask rustling slightly. After a long time, he reached a hand up, lifting the bottom of his sniper hood to reveal the Task Force 141 patch on his chest, sewn onto his tac vest. And, you supposed, the absence of any patch indicating his rank.

“I have made my decision.” He responded, flatly. “I gave everything up. I am here now.”

He let go, letting the mask fall back into place. He gestured with his head, indicating for you to make a move.

“Now. Do that again, but pull me the other way.” He offered. “This time, I will fight back.”

You did. This time, you swung a fake right hook. It caught his attention just enough for you to move in again, grabbing his leg and lifting it into the air.

Once more, he stumbled, unable to deal with balancing on one leg. His hand went to your arm, trying to loosen your grip. You wasted no time and pulled, this time wrenching him around to your front. He had been too focused on what your hand was doing to keep upright. When you pulled, he fell.

The second he hit the ground, you were on top of him. Grabbing at his arms and yanking them behind his back in the same hold that had been used on you so many times before. He wrestled against you for a moment, and you reacted instantly, getting him on his front so you could straddle him at the waist. Squeezing his hips between your thighs.

“Submit.” You told him, firmly. He gasped, letting out a raspy chuckle.

“Alright.” König nodded, a hint of amusement in his tone. “I submit.”

For a moment, you kept him there. His arm was locked in the hold. When you flexed, tightening your grip, he let out a little grunt.

“I’m not nothing.” You told him, the words leaving your mouth before you even fully considered them. This was a little wrong. He had already submitted. “Either that, or you really should’ve fought back harder just now.”

“You’re right.” He gasped, nodding a little. Though you had one of his arms in the hold, the rest of his body was relatively untethered, he could throw you straight off him if he wanted to.

And yet, he didn’t. He stayed in position, head twisted around so he could look up at you.

“You’re not nothing.” He continued, voice still strained.

Another second passed. It felt like an eternity. Eventually, you released him, letting go of his arm and slowly rising to your feet once more, watching him lay on the ground beneath you. He didn’t spend any time feeling sorry for himself. After such a takedown, you probably would’ve taken a second to catch your breath.

Not König. The second you were off him, he was back up, ready to go again.

This time, no discussion was needed. You threw yourself forwards again, aiming your shoulder straight for his hips. One of your arms curled behind him, aiming to knock out one of his legs.

But it was sloppy. You’d gone in so fast that you hadn’t taken the time to make sure you were in the right place.

And you weren’t. His calf was just out of reach. It cost you a second, as you had to reach further down than you expected.

A second too long.

You felt a pair of hands snaking around your sides. Then they clenched and pulled. In moments, you were lifted right off your feet.

“What the - !” You yelped, surprised by the sight of the ground rushing away from you.

König’s face came into view. His hands were manoeuvring you, pulling you to stand back in front of him. Pulling you awfully close.

“You’re right, Private.” König said, bending down to your level. The proximity of his eyes, locked so tightly to yours, was a little nerve wracking. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m very sorry.”

“Then why did you?” You demanded, folding your arms haughtily. The words still stung, and you couldn’t just let it go. He made you cry.

He flinched, his brows furrowing together. After a second of consideration, he shrugged.

“I was afraid you might tell the Captain, I suppose.” He admitted, the sorrow in his tone making his guilt apparent.

It was hard to know what to do. Part of you wanted to forgive and forget. Part of you wanted to keep pressing, keep digging into the issue.

But he just looked so damn sad.

“That’s why I came to you.” When you stepped away, he let you. “I came straight to your room to hear your side of the story, and you threw it back in my face.”

“I was rattled.” He nodded, absorbing what you were saying without complaint. “I apologise. I took out my emotions on you, and I shouldn’t have.”

“I have no rank, but neither do you.” You continued, the urge to defend yourself still in control. The two of you were face to face, not even pretending to keep sparring now. “In fact, I – ”

“Private. I didn’t mean what I said.” König said, cutting across your thoughts. He took your hands in his. It made your heart race. “You are a strong, capable woman. A fine soldier.”

“Not nothing.”

“No.”

You pulled your hands away. That was far too intimate for such a crowded room. An involuntary scan of the gym thankfully revealed that still, no one was watching. Everyone else seemed to be focused on Soap and Gaz, still going at each other hard in the middle of the room.

For a moment, you considered the man in front of you. There was still a tiny voice inside you that warned of his potential traitorousness.

But it was König. The man who had consistently made the effort to protect and comfort you, every opportunity he had. He was always thinking of you, empathising with your pain, checking that you were okay. You trusted him.

Yeah. A long sigh left you, a weight lifting off your chest.

You trusted him.

“Okay. I’m sorry too. I should’ve heard you out.” You nodded, holding out a hand for him to shake. “Let’s just move on.”

He eyed your hand for a moment, a single eyebrow raised. Finally, he took it, leaning forwards.

When he spoke, his voice was low. “If we were alone, I would take you in my arms this second.”

“König!” You hissed, desperately keeping an eye on your coworkers. He chuckled, giving your hand one quick pump, before releasing it.

“Just saying what’s on my mind.” He murmured, amusement thick in his tone. Something about it made your stomach flutter.

Though a small part of you was still suspicious, it felt undeniably good to have made things right with König. When you tried to look at the situation fairly, you could see where he was coming from.

Your eyes wandered to Soap. He currently held Gaz in a headlock, giving him a noogie. Ghost was staring smugly at a defeated Captain Price. The ring of recruits that had gathered around was slowly dispersing, people moving back to different stations and pieces of equipment dotted around the room. The show was over.

“That’s our team.” Konig’s voice drifted over to you. You turn to see him mirroring you, also stood watching the others. His arms were tightly folded, yet his shoulders seemed relaxed. After a moment, he chuckled. “For better or for worse.”

Your eyes creased into a gentle smile.

“Regretting your decision yet?”

He placed a hand in your shoulder. It made your heart pound inside your chest. “Never.”

With the breakup of Soap and Gaz’s sparring match, your training session seemed to be over. They were retreating to the showers now. König gave your shoulder a quick squeeze, before patting you on the back.

“It looks like training is done.” He remarked, softly. You nodded, turning to flash him a smile.

“Looks that way.”

“Alright. Go and get a shower. I’ll let Price know that we have finished.”

Washing your body of all the dirt and grime felt amazing. Mainly because it felt like the warm water washed away the stress, too. Part of you was still wary after what happened, but it still felt better to be on good terms with him again.

You managed about five steps towards the women’s changing rooms before a voice called your name.

You spun to see Ghost, staring at you from across the room. He beckoned you over with a single finger.

“To me, Private.” He grunted. “Let’s have a chat.”

Chapter Text

Ghost wasted no time. As you reached him, he turned and started walking. It felt like instinct to fall into step beside him.

“Come on.” He said, his voice a little low. This was clearly meant to be a private conversation. The prospect was intriguing. Were you an animal, your ears would’ve pricked up. “I’ll walk you to the armoury.”

“The armoury?” You stopped dead in your tracks. It took Ghost a couple paces before he also halted, glancing back at you with tired eyes. “I’m not meant to be going to the armoury. I’m meant to be going to the – ”

“Debrief’s cancelled.” Ghost retorted, cutting straight over you. “We’re heading out into the field.”

“We’re going on a new mission before the last one even gets debriefed?” You asked, a little dumbfounded.

Ghost’s mouth pressed into a firm line. “Duty calls.”

With that, he kept walking. You scurried after him, your legs working double time to close the gap between you. Once you were by his side, he seemed to move even faster. It was a little exhausting.

“So.” He finally said, after the two of you reached a completely empty corridor. “What was that about?”

“What?” You retorted, instantly feeling a little defensive. Ghost huffed.

“You were talking. You and König.” He replied, voice hushed. “What about?”

“Everything is fine.” You replied, quietly. Under your breath, you added, “… at least, it is now.”

In your heart, you knew that Ghost wouldn’t accept that as an answer. He seemed completely incapable of staying out of your business at the best of times, let alone after he’d seen you cry. Next to you, he bristled, shaking his head a little.

“Come on, Private.” He scoffed, quietly. “I’m not thick.”

Suddenly he stopped, his hand grasping your shoulder. Your heart skipped a beat. His eyes searched yours, his body bent slightly so he could stoop to your level. It was a piercing, intense gaze.

“He hurt you. I don’t know how, or why, but he did.” He said, venom creeping into his tone. “Talk to me about it.”

Silence. Your heart was throbbing, drumming a relentless beat inside your chest.

You couldn’t tell him. There was no level of detail you could offer, because it would only invite more questions. Though you didn’t really know whether or not you trusted König, you had decided to give him a second chance.

If he knew what you knew, Ghost would not decide the same. Of that, you were certain.

He suddenly shook you a little, drawing your attention back to the present.

“We talked. Everything is fine now.” You replied, curtly. Courage drove you to fold your arms, keeping your chin tilted high. “That’s all you need to know.”

Ghost let out a noise; a huff of frustration. His hand gripped a little harder, squeezing the flesh of your upper arm painfully.

“Private.” He said, curtly. “Tell me.”

You couldn’t.

“Do I not deserve privacy?” You retorted, careful to be firm, but not aggressive. “Do you not trust me when I tell you that I’m fine?”

That seemed to placate him for a moment. He stopped in his tracks, his hand releasing its grip. You took the opportunity to press a little harder.

“You can’t listen to every conversation I ever have.” You murmured, softly. “You won’t always be able to.”

Ghost cocked his head to the side. His brows drew into a frown.

“If he hurt you, then I want to hurt him.”

“But you can’t.”

“Yes I can.”

Ugh. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“No, you can’t. You’re his commanding officer. We’re all on the same team.”

Ghost made an angry noise, a deep rumbling in his throat.

“He’s not on our team, he’s a fucking KorTac – ”

“We are all on the same team.”

Did you even believe that yourself?

… sure.

However, in the end, it didn’t matter if you believed it, because it seemed to convince Ghost. He stopped in his tracks, glaring at you for just a few seconds longer before finally, he stood down. The few feet of distance he put between the two of you felt like miles.

“Fine.” He gave a single nod, jabbing a finger at you. “But if he makes you shed one more tear, I’ll have him. Got that?”

“Got it.” If Ghost was willing to be agreeable and rational even for just a moment, you weren’t going to question it. “Thanks for respecting my boundaries.”

“Don’t thank me.” He grunted, shaking his head. “Just… look after yourself. Now, come on. We’ve gotta get to the armoury.”

-

The seat was shaking underneath you, the engine rumbling as the truck careened over potholes and rounded twisting corners and curves in the road. You were staring at the tablet in your hands, trying to absorb the information in the document on the screen. The rambunctious leaps and dips of the vehicle certainly didn’t help.

“So, this informant used to be one of yours?” You asked König, glancing sideways at him.

“Yes. I have known him for many years.” He replied. He didn’t look at you as he spoke, his gaze fixated out of the window. Checking that the vehicle was headed in the right direction, perhaps.

“Apparently, being loyal to criminals counts for somethin’ in Price’s book.” Ghost quipped, dryly.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. As far as you were concerned, if it was good enough for Price’s approval, it was good enough for you. The man had seen enough liars and forgers to be able to tell them apart from the honest.

But such trust didn’t come to Ghost so easily. You knew him well enough by now to be able to say that with confidence.

“This is the first time I have heard from him since I defected.” König continued as if the interruption didn’t even happen. “He has vital information on KorTac’s recent operations.”

“Aye, that’d be useful.” Soap finally piped up from behind you. He’d been so quiet this far that you’d almost forgotten he was cooped up in the back. “We cannae let the fuckers get away with those chems.”

“Precisely.” König nodded, a hint of triumph in his voice. “So if he has something for me, we must find out what it is.”

The car shook as it lurched over a pothole. The driver was clearly confident, taking advantage of the empty roads to swing almost recklessly around a corner, joining a main road that led around the back of town. This area was less residential, and more industrial. Most places around here were either factories, or miserable business parks full of grey offices. More than a few places had decrepit signs with letters missing and spray paint in a Slavic language you didn’t recognise. Accompanying these were boarded up windows, smashed in doors, and – your least favourite – huge overgrown patches of weeds and shrubbery out front. The wheels crunched over layers of broken glass and loose rubble, dislodged by the vehicle’s intense weight on such a cheap road surface.

It took a while before anyone spoke again. By that time, you’d managed to give the whole document a read through. It included a section on yesterday’s mission, outlining exactly how the higher ups thought you had failed, and what the consequences of that were. Smug gits. Those bloody pencil pushers didn’t have feet on the ground. They didn’t have a clue what you were facing out there.

It also included details on the mission ahead. As König had said, your little group was to get in contact with an informant who had set up a small base of operations around here. You, König and Ghost were to go inside the building to meet the informant. Soap was to take a sniping position nearby, providing support from afar.

“I wouldn’t have thought a mission like this would need so many people.” You mused, quietly. It was almost a comment to yourself, not really meant to be heard by anyone else. However, with so little else to distract them, everyone’s ears seemed to prick up at once.

“Don’t worry lass, I’m no’ comin’ for your job.” Soap chuckled, slapping a hand on your shoulder from behind you. It made you jump slightly.

“Obviously König needs to go, because it’s his contact.” Ghost began, ignoring Soap’s comment entirely. “As the lieutenant, it’s my job to look after you lot.”

“Yeah, and Price seems to think you can keep these boys in check, lass.” Soap cut in, the smirk evident in his tone. After a moment, he made a noise that was somewhere between a snort and a chuckle. “I wonder why he thinks that.”

Your eyes immediately darted to the soldier driving the car. The one person in this vehicle that didn’t understand what that comment meant. You couldn’t risk him guessing. If a rumour like that started spreading around the base, your reputation was done for – and possibly, your job. Not only that, but you hadn’t exactly told Ghost or König that Soap knew your business, either. In all the drama that had happened, there hadn’t exactly been the time.

“I’m a people person.” You snapped back, a little defensively. At the very least, Price couldn’t possibly know. He would never assign the three of you to a mission like this if he did. “I’m trained to understand people. I can help them get along just fine.”

Soap’s chuckle slowly died down. Neither Ghost nor König had made a comment. It cranked up your nervousness a little.

“Aye, sure thing.” Soap replied, in that smug fucking tone of his. “I forgot that you’re trained to read our minds.”

“That’s not what psychology is, and you know it.”

Eventually, after passing several dishevelled and abandoned buildings, the vehicle slowly came to a stop. A quick glance out of the window revealed you to be in front of a rather large block of apartments. A few of the balconies on the lower floors had laundry hung out to dry over the railings, or various pieces of furniture or potted plants that gave them a ‘lived in’ look. This disappeared the higher up one looked, with the top floors having the same boarded-up windows and spray-paint coverage as the rest of this sorry place.

You took a deep breath. This was it. The document indicated that the informant had agreed to meet on the top floor. Hopefully the lift would be in working order, because you really didn’t fancy climbing all those stairs.

Hopefully.

“Alright.” Ghost grunted, throwing open the passenger side door. “See you later, Johnny.”

“Aye.” Soap called in response. As soon as your feet touched the tarmac outside the car, he was already clambering over the seat to take your place in the back. “Good luck, you lot.”

“Don’t need it.” Ghost retorted. As König began to lead the way over to the building, Ghost gave the side of the car a slap, indicating that they were free to move. “Never have.”

And with that, the vehicle began to move. It pulled away and around the first left then, taking Soap to the vantage point that would allow him to take overwatch and keep tabs on the mission from afar. He would be stationed in a building opposite the apartment block – close enough to see everything through the windows, but too far to run over in time to help if you really needed it.

Something in your ear crackled.

“Radio check.” Soap’s voice was as clear as it had been when he had been sat right behind you. This place was depressing but hell, it had great radio signal.

“Roger that.” You replied, turning your microphone on. Ghost and König responded in turn, everyone making sure they were on the same frequency.

The three of you made your way up to the entrance. The walkway up to the building was little more than cobbles on the ground, fighting to be seen amongst the overgrowth. The doors themselves were practically hanging off the hinges and put up absolutely no defence as König pressed against them, making his way inside. He stopped in the entryway, holding it open, glancing backwards.

It took a moment for his gaze to fall upon you. When it did, he beamed. “In we go. Let’s not keep him waiting.”

You joined him, ducking easily under his arm to enter the lobby. If it could even be called that. This space was barely wider than one of the hallways in the base, and it was just as sparsely decorated. Ghost let out a huff as he caught the door, only moments before it swung into his face.

“That’s my line.” He grumbled, before nodding towards the stairs. “Take point. I’ll follow.”

No one needed telling twice. Every door on this floor had belongings and decorations around it, indicating that they were very much lived in. The last thing you needed was to have to calm down a bunch of spooked locals who’d just found a foreign military on their doorstep.

The higher the three of you climbed, the less the issue mattered. Doors with polished numbers and hand-woven mats with boots resting upon them quickly began caved in wrecks, surrounded by trash and rubble and filth. It was clear that at one time, when the factories around here thrived, this apartment building was probably home to many, many people. All that was left now were the stragglers, those either too stubborn or too poor to move on.

You climbed even higher. Part of you started to worry about the structural integrity of the building, especially the floors this high up. Now the degradation of your surroundings was even more apparent, with the wind whistling and howling through gaps in the walls and boarded up windows.

Neither Ghost nor König seemed to react. The only thing that punctuated the silence was the sound of heavy boots, and the occasional radio check from Ghost, letting Soap know exactly how far you’d climbed.

Your legs ached a little. They made you work out a lot, but that still didn’t quite prepare you enough for carrying all the gear strapped to you. Particularly up quite so many flights of stairs. It was a relief when König finally stopped climbing and turned to walk along the corridor of the thirteenth floor.

There it was. Apartment 1302.

Thank fuck for that. Fuck those stairs.

“Bravo 0-7, at the RV point.” Ghost mumbled down the radio, his voice significantly quieter now. If there was someone on the other side of that door, he wouldn’t want them to overhear something they shouldn’t.

For a moment, the three of you simply stood there, staring at the door. König was closest, standing at its side and leaning on the frame. You and Ghost were opposite it, hands on your rifles.

König reached out a hand and knocked.

The door swung open.

That was unusual. Unusual meant bad.

Your hands tightened on your rifle, instantly pulling it to your front and aiming straight at the gap between the door and the frame. By your side, Ghost had done the same, his eye pressed to the sights. No one spoke. No one moved.

Slowly, König used his foot to kick open the door a little wider, he too aiming his gun into the hallway behind as he did so. When no reply came, he took a step inside.

The three of you filed in, slowly. The hallway turned out to be a very short entry way that led immediately into a mixed living room and kitchen area.

“… Scheiße.” König cursed.

Scheiße was right.

The place was empty. Empty and trashed.

The briefing had said that the informant had set up a small base of operations here. Judging by his apparent lack of a team, it was presumed to be some kind of recon base.

But this was no base. This place was a wreck. Plastic and metal and junk coated the floor and every surface. It was like a big computer had exploded. You could see keyboards and mice, shattered into mere shrapnel. Cut up wires and broken glass. The furniture was shredded, deep gouges carved into the sofa and chunks of solid wood taken out of the end tables and cupboards. Even the counters were scarred and filled with holes.

“Aleksander!” König called, glancing around as if the man might materialise out of thin air. “Are you here?”

“We have a problem, 7-1.” Ghost suddenly said, stepping towards the window to peer out of it. “Johnny. You read me?”

Crackling. Then, his voice. “Roger, L.T. What’s wrong?”

“Place is fucked. Informant nowhere to be seen.”

There was a pause.

“Shite.”

You took another look around. A quick look in the fridge revealed nothing – literally, nothing. There was no food inside it. Not even the rotten mess you’d expect from the place being lived in, then abandoned suddenly. If the informant was suddenly taken or killed, then he’d managed to either clear out his food before he did, or…

Or perhaps, no one was ever living here at all.

You were about to point this out, but got interrupted by König, somewhere behind you.

“There are still large chunks of tech here.” He noted, curiously. “We may be able to salvage some of – ”

“L.T!” Soap’s sudden cry caught everyone off guard. “You’ve set off an alarm. There’s a laser on the roof. Like a beacon.”

“What?” Ghost’s reply was harsh, hurried. “What are you talking about?”

“A few seconds after you entered, somethin’ on the roof activated. It’s firing a laser into the sky.”

His words sank in for a moment. The gravity of it hadn’t quite hit the three of you yet. Soap was right – you must’ve set off some kind of security system that was designed to alert someone to your presence inside the wrecked base.

The wrecked base that an old KorTac informant had led you to.

“It’s a signal.” You gulped. “It’s probably going to alert – ”

“What the fuck?” Ghost demanded, spinning in the spot. He walked right up to König, giving the taller man a shove on the chest. “What have you done?”

“Nothing!” König insisted, his voice rising an octave. He stayed firm, not rising to Ghost’s physical presence. “This has nothing do with – ”

“Movement!” Soap yelled, cutting straight over him. “Vehicles pulling in from the South.”

“From the South.” Ghost repeated, slowly. After a second, he nodded, glancing out the window one final time before making his way to the door. “Alright. We’ll have to go out back to avoid them.”

The three of you exchanged a glance, as if silently trying to prepare yourself for whatever was going to come next. Your heart was pounding in your chest. Ghost’s hand was gripping the doorknob, ready to fling it open.

“Vehicles comin’ in from the West!”

Ghost huffed. It took him only a moment to recalculate his plans, adjusting to the new information from Soap. “Okay, so we’ll head out and then back the way we cam – ”

“Vehicles comin’ in from all directions, L.T! Building is surrounded!”

What the fuck? That quickly?

“This is a bloody set up!” Ghost raged, throwing his hands up in the air.

Finally, König stepped forwards, shaking his head. “We can’t leave. It’s suicide.”

At his words, Ghost froze. The only part of his body that moved was his head, swivelling around to glare at the taller man.

“Well what do you suggest, genius? You want us to go say hi to your former friends?”

“I believe we should take cover and wait for them to leave.”

“You want us to fucking hide?”

There was another moment of tension. A pause between the three of you, as everyone simultaneously tried to come up with a plan. Hiding might save you, but that depended greatly on two things – how hard KorTac were going to look, and how long they were going to look for.

“Guys.” Soap’s voice cut through the silence like a knife. “They’re entering the building.”

You could hear it. As Ghost’s hand stayed resting on the door handle, you could hear the echoes of many boots chattering up the stairs from far below.

“Fine. Fuck.” Ghost carefully opened the door, head turning left and right as he clearly paused to try and hear the incoming threat. They still sounded far off. He gestured for the two of you to follow, as he stepped out into the hallway. “Come on.”

You and König didn’t need telling twice. You shut the fridge, trying to leave everything as you found it, and joined them. Hopefully no one would even notice you’d been there.

Apart from the glaring, obvious warning signal you’d set off.

“Here.” Ghost was tugging open another door. This one didn’t lead to an apartment. It looked like some kind of utility closet. It was small and dark, the walls lined with shelves and clutter and tools hung up on hooks. “Everybody get in.”

König went in first. You followed suit, eyes blinking rapidly to try and adjust to the dark. Finally, Ghost crammed himself inside and shut the door behind him. Leaving you in the middle, pressed tightly between the two of them.

Alone in the darkness.

Chapter Text

Darkness.

Complete and total darkness.

Unfortunately, due to the lack of room and the order in which you’d entered, you’d ended up crammed between them. König was at your front, your face pressed into his chest. Ghost was behind you, the items strapped to his tac vest digging into your back. When you tried to wiggle sideways, desperate to avoid being caught between them, something blocked your path.

It was no use. The room was too small. There was simply nowhere else to go.

For a long time, no one spoke. Everyone was listening carefully, ears peeled for any signs of the incoming threat. Heavy, ragged breathing was the only sound that pierced the silence.

“This is… snug.” You eventually muttered. König grunted, arching his back. You got a face full of tactical gear.

“There is something pressing into my spine.” He whined, softly.

“Shut it, you two.” Ghost grumbled. “I’m tryin’ to listen.”

Like a couple of well-trained dogs, the two of you shut your traps. Everyone seemed to lean to the left a little, ears pressed to the door like it might allow just a few more decibels of hearing. Well, Ghost and König did. All you could manage was a slight tilt of the head.

Then, you heard them. Several pairs of boots, echoing down the corridor beyond. Voices were whispering in hushed tones. At first, you thought they might just be speaking too quietly to make out any words, but after a few seconds it became clear – they weren’t speaking in English. It wasn’t German, either.

Was that… Russian?

There was a crash, and a slam. Presumably, the sound of the safe house’s door being kicked in. It made you flinch. A hand rested on your shoulder from behind. Ghost’s hand.

“Easy, Private.” He muttered, his voice low and gruff in your ear. “Keep still.”

More boots stomped past. So many pairs of boots. It was impossible to count how many of them were out there, but one thing was for sure – it was too many for the three of you to fight through.

It was also too many to fit in a single truck. This had to be several vehicle’s worth of soldiers.

And why would KorTac just happen to have several vehicles of soldiers hanging around nearby?

Then, it dawned on you.

They wouldn’t.

This had to have been planned.

The sound of yelling stopped that thought in its tracks. You could feel Ghost tensing up, his chest pressing into your back as his body went rigid. The hand he still held on your shoulder tightened a little, fingers digging into your flesh.

Though you couldn’t understand the words they were saying to each other, you could understand their tone. Angry, and frustrated. They’d been expecting to catch you red-handed, presumably. Instead, they’d arrived to an empty, untouched safe house, and no one to be seen.

König had been right. Had you tried to escape, you wouldn’t have even made it down the stairs.

More seconds passed. No one moved.

Eventually, the world outside seemed to grow quiet. The sound of footsteps receded. Whoever was out there seemed to be leaving.

You let out a sigh of relief.

In an instant, a hand was clapped over your mouth.

You jumped out of your skin. Your hands went to your face instantly, trying to free yourself from the tight grasp. The way an arm curled around your shoulder from behind told you that it was Ghost’s hand. In the dim light, you could see König, staring at Ghost with heavy scrutiny.

“Lieutenant. Don’t treat her like – ”

“Soap.” Ghost’s voice was much more hushed than König’s, and right in your ear. The hairs on your neck stood on end. “They leavin’?”

It took a few seconds for Soap’s voice to play through your headset.

“Negative, L.T.” Came the response. “Bodies went in, and there’s more waiting at the door, but none have come out.”

“Copy. Neither will we.” Ghost nodded.

After a moment, he leant down a little, bringing his head in line with yours. You wanted to turn and look at him, but there was just no room.

“Now, Private.” His hand was still firmly over your mouth, keeping you from interrupting. “I need you to be quiet. Alright?”

You wanted to argue with him, and tell him to get the hell off, but his hold on you was far too firm.

“Ghost.” König interrupted, voice soft and low. “This is no way to treat a lady.”

A gruff chuckle sounded out from behind you. If anything, Ghost’s hand stayed firmly over your mouth, his gloved fingers rubbing against your lips. His other hand went to your hair, stroking through the strands.

“It’s the way to treat this lady.” Ghost retorted, smugness thick in his tone. His hand tightened on your face, shaking it gently from side to side. The back of your head was still pressed tightly to his chest, your chin held up into the air. Up above, Ghost was leaning down, looking at you with a sparkle in his eye. “You like it, don’t you, Private?”

“Mmm-mmf!”

“Lieutenant!” König chided.

Ghost’s hand flexed.

“You gonna behave, Princess?”

Princess?

It was so demeaning. And obviously sexist. A cruel play on your rank and your gender and your position between them. You had every reason to hate that nickname.

But… was your heart beating faster?

All you could manage was a frown and a nod in response.

“Good girl.” Finally, he released you from his grip, giving you a little pat on the shoulder as he did so.

“I didn’t breathe that loudly.” You hissed back, careful to keep your voice low. “And do not call me that.”

“Where are youse, anyway?” Soap chimed in. “I cannae see you through the windows.”

For a moment, no one spoke. It was eerily reminiscent of the car ride after that first mission – everyone shamefully sitting in their underwear, avoiding eye contact as you approached the base. That same heavy sense of guilt haunted the closet that was currently saving your lives.

“We’re… we’re hidin’.” Ghost replied, shame thick in his voice.

“I know that. Hidin’ where?”

Finally, König pressed a button, leaning forwards to speaking directly into his radio.

“We are in a cupboard, Sergeant.” König hissed. Unlike Ghost, he didn’t sound embarrassed at all. He said it as nonchalantly as he would sound reading out a shopping list.

There was a long pause.

“You’re… what?”

“I’m stuck in-between them, Soap.” You explained, dryly. It was no use being dishonest – he was going to find out sooner or later. You may as well try and control how it got out.

“You’re all squeezed into a little cupboard together?”

Ghost let out a huff.

“… Yes.” He grumbled, softly.

There was a sudden cut-off. It took a second before you realised that Soap had muted himself. When he finally got back on the air, you could still hear the dregs of laughter in his voice.

“Brilliant. That’s… that’s brilliant.”

“Shut it, Johnny.” Ghost’s voice was terse, barely holding back the frustration clearly building inside. “We need to get out of here.”

That much was certainly true. But how? The entire building was crawling with KorTac and there were only three of you. Soap didn’t have eyes everywhere.

“But there’s no way to know if we’re walking into an ambush.” You pointed out, softly. Ghost scoffed.

“Yeah, thanks to our big friend, here.”

He said the word ‘friend’ with so much contempt that it was obvious he didn’t mean it. König bristled at the accusation, narrowing his eyes at Ghost.

“This has nothing to do with me.”

“Oh yeah?” Ghost demanded, the frustration bubbling through into his tone. “We just happen to come across a whole fucking platoon of your mates?”

“For the last Gottverdammt time, they are not my frien – ”

“König.” Soap’s voice came through the radio, silencing their bickering. The taller man snapped to attention, head pricking up at the mention of his name.

“Briefing says you’re carrying the heartbeat sensor.”

“Ah. Ja.” Came the reply from König. His big hands patted around his tac vest, searching for it, before he froze. “Uh…”

“For fuck’s sake.” Ghost grumbled. “What is it now?”

König glanced down. He glanced back up. There was an expression in his eyes… he looked almost sheepish. It was a strange sight.

“It’s in my pocket.” He explained. Once more, his hands patted around, but didn’t manage to get any lower than his chest. There simply wasn’t the room in here for his arms to fit. “My trouser pocket. I can’t reach it.”

No one spoke.

Then, the radio crackled.

“If only you had someone with tiny hands there with you.” Soap suddenly chimed in, laughter in his voice.

Ah.

Now König’s expression made sense.

The only way anyone was going to use that heartbeat sensor was if you reached down there and got it for him. König wasn’t sheepish about not having the sensor. He was anticipating Ghost’s reaction to this.

“Fine, yeah, fine.” Though he was clearly trying to act nonchalant, you could hear in his tone that Ghost was bothered. He waved a hand above your head, signalling you to do it. “Make yourself useful, Princess.”

There was that nickname again. You almost recoiled, unable to keep all of your emotions inside.

“I said, don’t call me that.”

“The more you hate it, the more valuable a tool it becomes.”

“Fuck you.”

The surge of anger inside you made you act way too fast. You shoved your arm down, hands feeling around urgently for König’s pocket. When they initially found the front of his pants, you yanked your hand away. Your fingers had made contact with a part of him that they shouldn’t. He seemed to jump at your touch, his hand suddenly grasping your shoulder.

“Oh!” You yelped, feeling heat start to burn your cheeks. “Sorry!”

“It’s… alright, Private.” König groaned, gently rocking his hips to try and readjust himself. “Just be careful.”

“Yeah.” You nodded, pointedly avoiding his eyes. This was a little more embarrassing than you’d initially realised. “I will be.”

This time, the movement was slow. You kept a single finger on him, trailing it down from his stomach, to his belt, to his trouser pocket. It was the only way you could think of to make sure you didn’t grab anything… untoward. The closet was far too dark to be able to see what you were doing down there. He seemed to be reacting to your touch, his muscles tightening as you made contact with each one.

“Which pocket is it in?” You asked. Behind you, Ghost let out a huff.

“Just grab the bloody thing.”

“Go on Private, really dig around.” That was Soap. The grin on his face was fucking audible. Bastard. “Get your hands all around the area.”

“Johnny, I swear to Christ – ”

“Mein Gott, Private, you might be being too careful now…”

You checked his front right pocket first, ignoring everyone’s comments. All you felt was a small ring of keys, and the feeling of his thigh beneath the fabric. The urge to stroke his skin was strong, but you restrained yourself. This was definitely not the time for that. That might start a chain of events that couldn’t be stopped.

Your hand kept moving. Up to his belt, across and into the other pocket. Straight away, it was obvious. The sensor took up his entire pocket.

“Here it is.”

Ghost’s muscles relaxed, his body losing its tautness. “Finally.”

But when you went to pull your hand out, you got stuck. You were just pressed so damn tight against König that trying to get your hand up between your bodies with the bulky item was a little difficult.

After a few seconds of jostling, you finally just gave the bloody thing a sharp tug.

Rrrrip!

Fuck. What…?

Oh, fuck.

You realised – far too late – that your shirt was, or rather had been, caught on the front of König’s tac vest.

Only, it wasn’t caught anymore. Now it was hanging open, the button hanging by a thread. Your bra on full display.

Only one word came out of you.

“Shit.”

“Private, your shirt!” Konig’s eyes looked like they might pop out of his head, cartoon style. He looked down at you – not at your face – and then back up. Then back down. Then up again. It was like he was fighting a war with his eyes. Unable to control them.

Shock and shame ricocheted through you. It was exposing enough already – König’s gaze only added to that feeling. A gaze that you could only describe as… hungry.

“Well that’s not good.” You mumbled, a little unsure of what to say. A second of excruciating silence passed. “Maybe I should’ve worn a nicer bra.”

As soon as you said it, regret flowered in your brain. All attention was drawn to your chest, and to your underwear. It certainly wasn’t one of your nicer, lacier numbers – but who on Earth would wear a bra like that on a mission?

“Christ, Private.” Ghost’s tone was strained. “I mean, that might stop KorTac in their tracks, but…”

“You would look lovely in any bra, Private.” König hummed, softly. It made your stomach do flips. He had one hand resting on your waist, and the other steadying himself on the ceiling. Ghost’s hands were on your shoulders. Both men had their torsos pressed firmly against you, your head sandwiched between their chests. All of this body contact was making you feel hot.

“What the fuck is happening in there?” Soap’s voice slapped you back into reality. Right. The mission. KorTac. Imminent death.

“We’ve had a… a wardrobe malfunction, Johnny.” Ghost explained, dryly.

“A what?”

For fuck’s sake.

“My shirt’s torn open.”

“Fully open?”

“How much fucking detail do you need?”

A laugh came through the radio. A laugh that made you want to throttle a Scotsman.

“As much as it takes to rip you a new one later.”

You rolled your eyes at that, focusing instead on the heartbeat sensor in your hands. Pressing the buttons did nothing. All that showed on the screen was an unhappy looking symbol and the words, ‘SIGNAL LOST.’

“This thing is dead.” You sighed, cursing your continued bad luck. First the safe house was a trap, now this?

“Ah.” You heard the rustling of sheets. Was Soap searching through documents? “It may need calibrating. Give me a minute.”

After a second, he chuckled. It made the microphone pop a little.

“Not that you’ll mind, of course.”

You were about to make a catty retort, when something stopped you in your tracks. König seemed to freeze for a moment, his eyes suddenly shifting expression entirely. He moved to angle his hips to the side, but as he did, you felt… something.

Something hard.

Oh, fuck.

The second you realised, it was obvious. The way he had slowly become quieter and quieter, how he had stopped looking at you completely, the way he was barely daring to move. All of it pointed towards one thing.

A growing issue.

“König, are you – ”

“Private, I’m so sorry, I just – ”

Both of you spoke at once words jumbling over each other at rapid speed. Ghost barely had time to react, the muscles in his chest tightening as he tried to work out what the problem was.

“What the fuck are you two hens clucking about?” He demanded. You tried to help König by also angling yourself away, but there was just no room. Wherever you went, it pressed into you. Relatively soft at first, but all the jostling and attention seemed to exacerbate the matter.

“My trousers are just a little tight.” König mumbled, his voice a little strained.

“I’ll give you some room.” You muttered back, trying to back yourself up a little. The only way to do that was to press into Ghost, but it was unavoidable.

To stay where you were, rubbing up against König like that, was not an option. You were on a mission. There could be enemies just a few feet away.

The mags attached to Ghost’s front were digging into your back, but you endured it anyway. König was also moving again, still trying to find the right angle for his hips. It seemed that the both of you were desperately trying to avoid making the issue worse – and neither of you were eager to explain yourselves to Ghost.

“Tell me.” He demanded, shaking your shoulder a little. “Tell me right now.”

What the fuck were you meant to say? How on Earth were you supposed to tell him what was going on?

“Uh… König has a… a problem.”

Ghost scoffed. “What kind of problem?”

“A personal problem.” König cut in, his tone a little aggravated.

That seemed to be the final clue for Ghost. He stopped, stiffened, and straightened up.

Then, he started chuckling.

“… I see.” He laughed, gruffly. “What an effect you have, Private.”

Ghost’s hand wandered, moving to hold you by the waist. His touch made your skin sing. You pressed further back into him, still telling yourself that it was to give König space.

After all, rubbing up against him and the obvious bulge poking into your stomach was tempting – so tempting – but dangerous. This was not the right setting. Ghost would just have to deal with it. He would just have to ignore the way your ass was rubbing against him, pressing against his crotch.

Just like you were ignoring it.

Ignoring it… absolutely fine.

“Can’t help being so damn sexy, I suppose.” You countered.

It was meant to come off as a joke, but in the hot heavy air, the silence that hung between the three of you afterwards told you that it was probably bad timing. König tilted his head, guilt flashing over his eyes.

“I am sorry, Private.” He mumbled, shaking his head. His eyes wandered down and up again. “Its just, you’re rubbing up against me, and your cute little bra…”

“It’s fine, König.” You tried to calmly assure him, all the while feeling forbidden heat wash down your body. Your ass pressed back into Ghost again, willing yourself not to make König’s problem worse. “I don’t mind. Really.”

“Christ.” Ghost suddenly groaned. You felt him reach hand downwards, adjusting something around his belt area. “You have to stop doing that.”

“Stop what?” You asked, turning a little to try and look up at him. Your ass brushed over his crotch.

He let out a grunt.

“That.”

“I’m trying avoid grinding on König.”

“Yeah, you’re grinding on me instead.”

He adjusted his belt again, and that’s when you felt it. Something hard pressing into your rear.

Fuck, was Ghost…?

Oh, Christ.

Heat was pooling in your gut, arousal washing through you like a tidal wave. Their bodies were just so close, arms tensing and flexing every time they tried to adjust their position. You could really feel Ghost now. He was growing harder by the moment, pressing between the cleft of your cheeks.

Your heart was pounding harder than it did on the battlefield. Every sense was on high alert, every hair on the back of your neck stood on end. Everything about this was so wrong… and so right. König had a hand on your head now, his gloved fingers stroking through your hair. It tingled. His eyes still seemed to find it impossible to meet yours.

“Fuck.” You breathed, trying to formulate some kind of reaction. It was more of an exclamation of emotion than a real statement. It seemed to egg Ghost on though. His hand started to run down your side, moving towards your hip.

“Careful, Princess.” Ghost warned, the smirk clear in his tone. He rocked his hips forwards as he spoke, pushing himself against you a little harder. Oh, fuck. “I told you to be quiet.”

“You’re making that a little difficult.” You hissed back, the strain clear as day in your tone.

“Just be still for us, Private.” König whispered. His hand travelled from your hair to your face, gloved hand moving to your chin, tilting your face up to lock eyes with you. His stance changed again, moving to place one of his thighs between your legs. He was pressing into your hip now, instead of your stomach. “Just let us calm down.”

Even if you could move right now, that was not an option. There was nowhere on Earth you’d rather be, except in this closet with these two men. Even with enemies possibly outside the door. Ghost rocked his hips into you again and it pushed you forwards, your crotch rubbing against the thigh König had locked between your legs.

It sure as shit did not feel like Ghost was trying to calm down.

“Lucky you’re so small, Private.” Ghost’s hands were on your hips, anchoring you in place. His hands practically wrapped around your whole torso. “Otherwise we’d never all be able to fit in here.”

Ghost flexed his grip, rocking forwards again, pressing himself against you. It took everything within you not to let the moan out.

“Yeah.” You gasped. “I guess this wouldn’t work with Soap.”

Ghost grunted, a noise of disapproval. “Do not talk about Johnny right now.”

Hot. The air in here was getting fucking hot. Being trapped between their chests left you with very little air. König was moving now too, gently lifting his thigh to press against your crotch. God, it felt good.

“You sound breathless, Schatz.” König noted, the smile audible in his voice. “Maybe you like this more than you’re letting on.”

There were a few seconds of silence. Excruciating, obvious silence. Only breathing, and the gentle rustling of your uniforms rubbing together, penetrated the space.

“Maybe I do.” You replied, feeling a little bold. Perhaps too bold. Your heart was pumping a mile a minute, every inch of your skin singing for more. “In fact, maybe we should – ”

A beeping cut you off.

Everyone froze.

The heartbeat sensor was buzzing, vibrating in your hands.

“Let me see that.” The sensor was ripped from your grasp before a single word of protest could come out of your mouth. Ghost simply reached down and took it out of your hands, lifting it upwards above your head. “We’ll have to cut that delicious little sentence off.”

“Got it working!” Soap suddenly chimed in on the radio. He sounded like a puppy, returning to its owner with a big stick. “Should be calibrated now.”

For a moment, no one spoke. There was an unspoken tension in the air, a sense of disappointment.

“Fantastic timing as always, Johnny.” Ghost remarked, dryly.

“What?” Soap asked. “Did I miss somethin’?”

“Not a thing, Sergeant.” König quickly chimed in, his voice still a little terse.

Ghost was glaring at the sensor now, watching the radar in the screen for bodies nearby. That was it. Just like that, he was back into work mode. He was back to being Ghost. Both men seemed to adjust themselves, trying to put everything in the right place. Just as quickly as it had started, the moment was over.

“Alright. It’s just detectin’ us. That means the hallway’s empty. We can make a move.” He declared, his hand reaching down the door to find the handle. Before he turned it, he stopped, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Everyone ready?”

Chapter Text

One breath. Two. You nodded.

“Ready.”

“Affirmative!” König chimed in.

Ghost placed a hand on the door.

“Alright. Guns up. Here we go.”

König turned the door handle, allowing Ghost to push it slowly open. Just as he’d said, the corridor beyond was thankfully empty. The three of you spilled out of the closet, raising your rifles preemptively.

You had to blink a few times, eyes slowly adjusting to the light. It had been so damn dark in there that you could barely see. Even in the low light of the sunset, it took a while to adjust whilst you stretched your aching limbs. That, and a quick tug of the straps on your tac vest, covering your ripped shirt up. In some ways, it was good to be out of that tight space.

But in other ways…

Well, you certainly weren’t going to forget about that experience in a hurry.

“Bodies coming out the front door.” Soap suddenly said. Ghost turned, looking towards the other end of the building.

“Alright. We’ll take the other stairwell down.” He started making his way over and you followed, tailing behind him like an obedient pup. After a couple of steps, he stopped.

König was still behind you, staring pointedly at the stairwell you’d originally come up.

“What?” Ghost demanded, impatiently.

“If we go this way, then we know what threat we’re facing. Soap has a better view.” He mused, quietly.

“Yeah, a better view when we get shot by fifty men.”

“Do you not value having overwatch?”

“We are going this way, König.” Ghost suddenly barked, gesturing with his rifle to the nearby stairwell. “Do not make your lieutenant tell you again.”

König seemed to pause.

“Yes, sir.”

Even though you couldn’t see his face, you could tell König was pouting. But he nodded, begrudgingly taking up the rear.

“Good.” Ghost affirmed, the smugness rolling off him in waves. “After all, you’re the reason we’re in this mess.”

“I’m the reason that you won’t one day get blown up, completely unaware that you’re even at threat.”

“You vastly underestimate our intel.”

“Boys.” You suddenly cut in, glancing between them. They both seemed to stop, glancing down line they’d only just noticed your presence. “Can we please carry on?”

“We can, if we’re all gonna follow the chain of command.” Ghost retorted, pointedly. After a moment, he shrugged, before starting to move again. “Come on. Slowly.”

And so, the three of you started walking down the stairwell. Ghost took point, making sure to check the hallway of every level you passed. Each time, your heart was in your mouth. A great many boots had stomped past the door of the closet. Too many for you.

You were just a sniper, here to keep the peace. Getting up close and personal like this wasn’t your speciality. You should be where Soap was, safe and sound from afar.

But no. You had captured the interest of two powerful men and turned your own world upside down.

König was behind. It was impossible to forget he was there because he practically casted a shadow over you, his big body obstructing the amber glow of the setting sun. Every step you took, his foot took the space yours had. You were in shadow, but right now, he was your shadow. It helped a little. Made you feel safer.

Ghost kept leading you down. The lower you descended, the slower he walked. Until finally, the three you were moving barely faster than a crawl, everyone placing their feet quietly and carefully with each step. It felt like the crowd of men that had come looking for you could be around every corner you turned, inside every corridor that Ghost meticulously checked. The crumbling nature of the building made for pretty shitty cover. If someone jumped out, it wasn’t guaranteed that you’d find any in time.

“If we split up, we can get more eyes on the situation.” König hissed. Ghost didn’t even look at him.

“Negative.” His attention was fixed down the scope, pointing down towards the fourth floor below. “I wanna keep my eyes on everyone.”

“But Lieutenant, we could – ”

“I said no.”

A clatter suddenly rang out, echoing off the concrete walls. It came from below. Everyone froze, rifles focused on the source of the source. Ghost held up a hand, silently signalling for everyone to follow along behind him.

You moved as a unit, like working parts of one whole. You focused on covering his blind spots, pointing your attention – and your gun – everywhere that he wasn’t. Behind you, König did the same, his shiny metallic barrel occasionally sweeping over the tops of your vision.

Another floor down.

Nothing.

Stairs. A check out the window. More stairs.

Ghost glanced into the corridor behind and –

BANG BANG BANG!

Contact!

You leapt into cover, tucking yourself behind a badly stacked pile of wooden crates. König joined your side, keeping watch on the next stairwell down, making sure no one was coming up to meet you. Ghost was somewhere ahead, behind cover you couldn’t currently see.

“Shots fired!” Ghost yelled, voice echoing around the halls and playing double in your headset. “I repeat, shots fired! We have contact!”

BANG BANG! BANG!

Okay. A close quarters firefight. You could do this. Deep breath.

Shots were ringing all around, the blasting and banging so awfully loud that you knew you’d be hearing your ears ring all night. Soap was swearing, complaining about being unable to get a shot lined up.

You popped your head out of cover.

Five guys, other end of the corridor. All with assault rifles. Ducked into hallways and behind decorative furniture.

BANG BANG! BANG!

Sofas don’t make for good cover. One down.

BANG! BANG BANG BANG!

Even when you weren’t shooting, Ghost and König were. Your enemies were too. A couple of bullets pierced the pile of crates you were taking cover behind, flying nauseatingly close to your head. Empty casings were littering the floor, twinkling as they hit the ground like demented fairy chimes.

You took another peek out of cover. Blood and grey matter coated a nearby doorway. Ghost’s handiwork, no doubt. Three left.

A KorTac operative leaned around a corner, popping into view.

BANG BANG BANG!

Two left.

It was at that moment, as you ducked back behind cover to quickly reload, that you heard it. One of the KorTac operatives started speaking into a radio.

Speaking Russian.

Just like when you’d heard them outside the closet, it made you pause for a moment. KorTac operatives didn’t usually speak to each other in Russian. Their primary language was English. Just like SpecGru.

Next to you, König looked just as confused as you felt. The two of you locked eyes for a second.

“Russian?” He suddenly whispered, his voice barely audible above the firefight that was still very much in motion.

Silently, you nodded.

But you had no time to ponder it, because it was followed by a much less confusing sound – the sound of boots. They had called for backup.

“Retreat!” Ghost called. “We can’t stay here all day. They’ll surround us.”

“They will just follow us!” König argued, not moving an inch. The radio crackled.

“What the fuck has gotten into you today?” Ghost demanded, yelling over the sound of gunfire. “Fucking move!”

Clearly, that was enough to convince him. This time, König took point, nearly flying down the next set of stairs. You followed, careful not to trip over your feet as you barrelled down as fast as your legs could take you. The sound of gunfire seemed to cease for a moment, as your enemies upstairs lost sight of their shots.

Ghost was suddenly at your side, a hand on your back pushing you forwards, driving you to run even faster.

“Go, go!” He ordered, still at your side, shoving. “We need to get away before – ”

BOOM!

The whole building shook. Ears ringing. Debris crumbled around you. Glass shattered. For a second, part of you was worried that the floor was going to give way beneath you, it vibrated so hard. You found yourself gripping onto the banister for support, getting a nauseating view of how far up you still were.

“I said, go!” Ghost was still pushing, not giving you a second to catch your breath.

“What the fuck was that?” You cried, hands going to your sore ears as you gave in and kept running downwards.

“A grenade!”

“Are you serious?”

Ghost huffed, his hand tightening around your shoulder. “Well, what did it fucking sound like?”

“This whole building is falling apart already! People live here, Ghost!”

“And we are not going to die here. Go!”

Annoyingly, it had apparently worked. No one seemed to be following behind you.

You ran at full speed, practically flying down the final few steps. The open door was dead ahead, now, at the other end of the building. All you had to do now was run past all the apartments you’d passed on the way in.

Everyone ran like hell. König’s long legs allowed him to easily outrun you. You let him pull ahead, having absolutely no desire to take point in the first place. The close you got to the door, the harder your heart pounded. Freedom was so close.

“Comin’ out the exit, Soap!” Ghost yelled, his voice echoing around the concrete walls of the corridor.

The response was immediate. “No!”

“No?”

“Big group headed in that way. Looks like they’ve got a – ”

Oh, fuck.

True to Soap’s word, a large group of soldiers entered the very door you had all been barreling towards. Everything moved in slow motion.

König turned. Pushed you backwards. You nearly lost your footing. Ducked into a doorway. König did the same. The group ahead scattered, rifles aimed your way. Then, the bullets started flying.

BANG BANG BANG BANG! BANG BANG BANG! BANG!

One flew a little too close, grazing your arm. Pain shot up your shoulder, like agonising lightning. But you couldn’t focus on that. Distraction equalled death, in your line of work.

“We’re pinned down, Soap!” You yelled into the mic, not knowing how far back Ghost was. Things were moving too fast for you to even be able to check. “Help us out!”

“Am doin’ my best!” He yelled back. In the background of his mic, you could hear him popping off shots with his sniper rifle. Clearly, he was trying to thin out the herd from the back, catching them unawares.

He must’ve moved around or something, because Soap’s voice got suddenly muffled. You could hear the rustling of fabric brushing over the mic, making your headset crackle uncomfortably.

“… like I thought. Here he comes…!”

“What? Need a repeat, Soap!”

“… just like I said! They’ve brought a…!”

It was impossible to make out what he was trying to say. The frustration made you miss your next shot, the bullet sailing clean past a KorTac operative’s head. Your fingers fumbled for the next mag as it came time to reload. What the fuck was Soap trying to tell you?

You heard it before you saw it. It started as a low groan at first – the kind of noise that could’ve either been a man, or a machine. But as the groaning rose to wailing, and then finally hardened into a growl, you realised that it was definitely a man. A man hopped up on –

“BATTLE RAGE!” König yelled. He cried out in a tone of voice you’d never heard him use before – one of pure and unadulterated fear.

One guy came charging through the rest. He wasn’t wearing one of the weird tube-suits you’d seen in the video, but the icy blue mark on his arm coupled with the little injector device he threw to the ground told you all that you needed to know. Chems were flowing through his veins all the same. In just a few steps, he was approaching König’s cover, barrelling straight towards him.

BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG!

A splatter of bullets sprayed across the room. Some of them must have hit the rager, but if they did, he didn’t show it. He had that crazed look in his eyes- the same look you’d seen in the man from the video. It was a little chilling. You took aim again, watching Ghost’s careful shots as you lined up your own.

BANG! BANG BANG BANG! BANG!

The rager bent down, grabbed the desk that König had ducked behind, and threw it clear across the hallway. It didn’t just hit the opposite wall – it tore through it, crashing into the apartment beyond and spraying drywall and debris everywhere.

Everything happened at once.

Ghost landed a shot on the rager’s hand, causing him to drop his rifle. It clattered to the ground, shooting sparks along the concrete floor. The rager barely reacted to the pain, instead making a swipe for König with his remaining good hand.

König was ready for him. The moment he leant down, the Austrian shot forwards, rolling right into the rager’s legs. Swift, but powerful. He could move faster than you’d expected for someone so big. Not expecting it, the rager lost balance and fell forwards, slamming onto his face.

BANG!

Blood, grey matter, and shards of the rager’s skull sprayed across the floor as Ghost nailed a shot to the back of his head.

Battle rage or not, it didn’t matter. No one was surviving a shot like that.

You were careful to keep shooting at the unit of soldiers still posted by the door, even if you were paying close attention to what was going on. After all, someone needed to make sure König had enough time to get back into cover.

Once he was back behind a solid surface, the three of you opened fire again. It didn’t take long for you to thin down the herd, each of you managing to pick off the KorTac operatives one by one. They seemed pretty unprepared for what to do if the battle rage didn’t work. Maybe the rager was their captain, and without him, they had no orders.

It didn’t matter. By the time they were all dead, your whole body was shaking. Shaking with the stress, and the exhaustion, and the relief. Getting up was hard. Walking down the corridor, and stepping over all of those bodies, was harder.

Thankfully, you could already hear the vehicle approaching as soon as you got through the doors. Though the sunset was shadowed by grey – the day still miserable, and overcast – the light still seemed blinding in comparison to that drab interior. Your hand went to your face, shielding your vision from the harsh rays.

“Alright, boys!” You heard Soap’s voice, but this time, not through the radio. He was approaching from afar, calling out across the street. After a second, he called again. “… And girl!”

A little chuckle left your lips. Things were starting to feel normal again. That had been scary. A little too close at times, for your liking.

But you were unable to respond to Soap’s comment, or make a joke about him being sexist, because the conversation was interrupted.

Interrupted by Ghost, spinning around to square up to König.

“What the fuck was that?” He demanded. “You tryna lead us into a trap? Get us fucking killed?”

The taller man blinked. Clearly, he was not expecting such an immediate assault. Your stomach churned with anxiety.

“We didn’t check for lasers.” He replied, surprisingly calm. “That was my mistake, and yours.”

Part of you felt like maybe you should chime in and admit fault too. But one look at the fury in Ghost’s eyes was enough to kill the words in your throat. Not one part of you desired to be in that spotlight, to dare draw his attention. Even being just a couple of feet away from them felt like being in the danger zone.

“You put all of us in danger, today.” Ghost continued, barely paying attention to his retort. “You led us into a trap, and then you had the fuckin’ audacity to be insubordinate.”

“I only had thoughts on battle strateg – ”

“I don’t give a fuck about your thoughts.” Ghost barked back. “I am your commanding officer. You follow my orders.”

The rumbling of the vehicle grew louder. Everyone jumped back onto the pavement as it came into view, parking up outside. Ghost didn’t seem to pay much attention to it, his eyes not leaving the Austrian.

“I was right about taking cover and waiting.” König pointed out. His voice was still calm, but barely. There was a terse quality to it, like an elastic band being pulled to its limits. “You would have led us down those stairs to our deaths.”

“Guys.” Soap called, standing by the open door of the car. “Comin’?”

“Just a sec, Johnny.” Ghost stuck up a finger, warning him to wait, all without looking away from König. The two were very close now, their puffed out chests just inches apart. “You need to learn. You’re not a Colonel anymore.”

König leaned down, getting on Ghost’s level. They were both so tall and yet the height difference was still apparent.

“Lieutenant, I think you need to learn that I’m not a part of KorTac anymore.”

“You fucking – ”

“Ghost!” Soap was calling again, slapping the door of the car. “Come on, we shouldn’t hang around! They could send reinforcements!”

“Sergeant!” Ghost snapped back. His head finally turned, shooting daggers at the younger man. “I said, wait!”

Something inside you lurched. You shouldn’t be here, watching them fight up close. This was definitely the danger zone. You should be sat in that vehicle, chatting with Soap. But to move now would risk drawing attention – something you knew you had to desperately avoid.

Ghost clasped his hand around König’s shoulder, shoving him a little. “You and I are going to have a little chat when we get back.”

And with that, finally, they broke apart. You could feel your lungs deflating, the tension melting from your shoulders. Ghost slunk off to the car, throwing himself in the passenger seat and slamming the door shut behind him.

One thing was clear.

Danger zone or not, you had to be there for that chat.

Chapter Text

You were getting pretty sick of tense car rides home. Must every mission end in some kind of fight or scandal? Would you always end up riding home in silence, avoiding eye contact and glaring out of the window? Apparently, yes, because that was exactly the ride back that you experienced. It was both boring, and excruciating. Even with having a front row seat to Soap’s awkward, stilted small talk with the poor soldier driving.

Ghost and König were like two angry spirits, haunting the vehicle. The tension between them was so thick, it was practically choking. No one dared to break the icy chill between them. A couple of times, you’d catch one giving the other an angry glance, but they didn’t interact. Like two petulant children, sat in opposite corners until they could calm down.

By the time you pulled back into base, the sun had almost completely disappeared over the horizon. Soldiers were making their way across the central courtyard, returning to the barracks after a long day of duties. A little pang of jealousy ignited inside you. Those people could just do their jobs and go home, no drama, no fuss. A couple of them walked past the vehicle as the car slowed, approaching the car park. Their laughter penetrated the quiet, stirring your envy up even more.

The second the car parked up, Ghost and König practically flew out. You had to scramble to run after them, pumping your legs at twice the pace just to keep up with their long strides.

“Come on.” You heard Ghost saying to König, the anger evident in his voice. “Let’s have this fucking chat.”

“Where are we going?” König replied.

You knew the answer before Ghost even said it.

“The gym.”

Of course. They weren’t going to have a chat. Unless they’d suddenly grown mouths on their fists. It wasn’t exactly subtle. You scurried along faster, desperate to catch up with them.

“Hey, wait!” You called, reaching out to tug on Ghost’s jacket. He jerked his arm away, getting out of your grip with ease. “Guys, please!”

“Enough, Private.” Ghost grumbled, not even bothering to look at you. “Leave it.”

He crashed through the doors of the barracks, with König in tow. Neither of them bothered to hold it open for you. You were about to call out again, when a sudden hand appeared in front of you, silencing the words before they even came out.

“Don’t, lass.” Soap was at your side, holding the door open for you. “Not when he’s like this.”

The two of you kept walking in tandem, following the angry men in front as they turned a corner, disappearing from view for a moment.

“We can’t let them do this.” You hissed to Soap. Guilt was twisting inside you, like a snake trapped in your gut. It was impossible to ignore the voice inside your head, telling you that this was your fault. You were the constant battle between them. You were the issue keeping them apart. “I can’t.”

By the time that you and Soap reached the corner and turned it, the boys were gone again. The door of the gym swinging sharply shut was all you needed to know.

“Aye.” Soap nodded, solemnly. “Maybe one of us should get the old man.”

“Where is he?” You asked, whipping your head around to look at him. He seemed startled by your attention, holding his hands up in front of him.

“I don’t know. In his quarters?”

“Where’s that?”

A sudden voice cut across your conversation.

“Where is what?”

The accent told you who it was immediately. Alejandro had come out of one of the nearby rooms, and causally leaning in the doorway. Soap lit up in his presence.

“Hermano!” He called. “We’re lookin’ for Price.”

Alejandro opened his mouth again, as if to ask more questions, but the sound of raised voices nearby caught everyone’s attention.

You broke into a jog. This couldn’t happen. Not like this.

The door of the gym slammed open. The scene that greeted you made your stomach lurch. Ghost and König were inside, circling each other on one of the mats. Their tac vests and gear were discarded nearby, clearly shed and then forgotten about. Seeing them two of them without all of it – in just tightly fitting shirts – was a little distracting.

Ghost was mid-sentence when you entered. Stepping up to König, hackles raised. Like an animal trying to make itself look big.

“You lead us into a trap. You disobey my orders. You question my instructions.” He growled, spitting venom in his tone. “Tell me why I shouldn’t send you packing right now.”

König, in contrast, seemed much calmer. It was such a far cry from any other social situation you’d seen him in. There was no anxiety in him now. Only confidence. Pure, unadulterated confidence.

“Hey, hey!” You found yourself shouting, your feet taking you towards them before you even had time to think. “Stop!”

It fell on deaf ears.

“You do not have the power to send me anywhere.” König pointed out. “You are not the Captain. He hired me. Not you.”

“No. Not me.” Ghost barked back. “I wouldn’t have hired you.”

“And you have made that very clear.”

“I can make your life hell.”

König scoffed.

“Have you not already started?”

You sucked in a sharp breath. They weren’t mincing their words. There was no air of professionalism, no holding back. The two were practically inches away from each other. Alejandro was stood next to you now, both of you frozen by the door.

“Stop!” You yelled, louder.

And then, they did.

They both froze in place, their heads finally swivelling to look at you.

Fuck.

Now you had their attention, what were you supposed to do with it? What could you possibly say that would quell the crazy looks in their eyes?

“You’re better than this.” You began, looking between them. “Both of you.”

“He’s not.” König spat back. He glowered at Ghost, looking him up and down with contempt. “One instance of disobedience, and he clenches his fists.”

“One instance? One?” Ghost waved a hand, shaking his head. “You consistently endangered all of us today. You didn’t follow the chain of command.”

König stepped forwards, unmoved by the accusation. “Having ideas that might save lives does not equal endangerment.”

A low rumble came from Ghost’s throat. It was primal, animalistic. For a moment, it looked like he might be about to snap right then and there.

“That’s not how this company fuckin’ works.” Ghost retorted. “When we’re on mission, you do as I say. There’s no room for your arrogance.”

“Quite rich, coming from the man that barely has a hold over his own arrogance. Or pride.” König scoffed. “Or any emotion, for that matter.”

“Oh yeah? You wanna talk emotions?”

Ghost was right up in König’s face, holding his arms out wide. Neither of them were backing down. Neither of them looked very in control, either. Despite anything they said. Your heart was in your mouth watching it.

“At least I don’t fuckin’ play with other people’s emotions.” Ghost declared. “Making your teammates bawl their eyes out is a funny way of showing your loyalty.”

Your jaw dropped. Obviously, he was referring to you. For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Your heart was beating like a drum, your pulse rushing in your ears. Every second felt twice as long, every movement taking twice as much energy. They had to stop. They had to stop right now.

Suddenly, a voice appeared in your ear. Alejandro. You nearly pissed your pants.

“What are they talking about, chica?”

You shook your head. Now was not the time. Maybe it never would be.

“I’m not sure.”

It was a lie, sure, but it was the right thing to do. Standing here and explaining what König had said and why he had said it was definitely not an option. For multiple reasons.

“Why don’t we talk plainly, Ghost?” König suddenly said, folding his arms. “Stop hiding behind your rules and your ego and talk to me.”

Something in Ghost snapped.

“Alright. Never mind the rules - at least I’m not a fucking traitor.” He bit back. “Turns out you might have to die for your cause, and what do you do? You run off with your tail between your legs. Like a pussy.”

Every word, they got closer. Their fists clenched tighter. Chests puffed out further.

The tension in the room was so thick, it was like a smell in the air.

“You do not know what I went through.” König growled. “You do not understand the things I understand. All you know is hiding behind your commands, and your mask. If one of us is a coward here, it is not me.”

“Oh, a coward? Like a coward would decide to hide in a closet till the big bad men you trained go away? Like a coward would get a hard on and then blush about it like a schoolgirl?”

“That was an involuntary body reaction, and – ”

“Involuntary? What are you, a twelve year old boy?”

König laughed at that. It was a little strange – a moment of amusement and mirth, in an otherwise dark and stormy interaction. “You are resorting to name calling, because you have run out of things to say.”

Ghost’s fists clenched. “You think you’re so fucking smart.”

“I am smart.” König retorted. “You don’t become a colonel without – ”

“ENOUGH!” Ghost yelled. You jumped out of your skin. He pointed a finger in König’s face. His hand was shaking. “If you say that fuckin’ word one more time, I swear to Christ, you’ll fuckin’ regret it.”

König seemed to regard the shorter man for a moment. From this distance, you couldn’t see his eyes, but you didn’t need to. The smirk was visible in his goddamn posture.

“What, Colonel? Are you threatened by my previous power, Ghost?” He asked. “Jealous, that I rose higher in rank than you?”

“Oh, fuck off.” Ghost scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re so fuckin’ full of yourself.”

“Or maybe…” König straightened to full height. His head turned, as if he was looking over Ghost’s shoulder. In your direction. “Maybe you are jealous of something else, hm?”

The reaction was immediate.

Ghost swung a wild right hook. König dodged. Laughed. Returned with a swing of his own. Ghost caught it, using his grip to shove the taller man backwards.

König stumbled. Ghost hooked a leg behind him. He went down like a sack of bricks.

Ghost descended upon him, the two rolling into a ball. Grabbing and tugging. Grappling with each other. It was sickening to watch. At any time, one of them could punch just a little too hard and cause the other serious damage. These weren’t two drunk guys tussling outside a nightclub. This was two trained fighters losing control.

König gained the upper hand, managing to straddle Ghost’s waist and pin him down with his weight. His hand went to Ghost’s face, grabbing him by the mask. He lifted his head, and then slammed it back down, thunking his head back into the mat.

Ghost let out a howl. König jumped to his feet. Ghost followed suit, albeit slower. He swung again. This one made contact. It made a cracking sound as his fist hit König’s jaw. The noise made your toes curl.

König turned, lifted the bottom of his sniper hood up, spat blood onto the floor, and returned to fighting position.

König threw two jabs. One hit Ghost in the chest. He deflected the other. It glanced off his shoulder, causing König’s fist to fly off to the side. Ghost used König’s surprise to hit back. Then a second.

Then, a third. This one was aimed at König’s throat. When it made contact, the taller man stumbled backwards, gasping for air. Ghost didn’t let up for a moment, didn’t give him a single second to breathe. He just kept throwing fists, raining hell upon König as he tried to gather his bearings.

König threw a hand outwards – but this one wasn’t a fist. His fingers were pointed straight out. Ghost reeled, his hands going to his face. König had jabbed him in the eyes.

“Ow, fuck!” Ghost roared, still trying to get his bearings. “You fuckin’ wanker.”

He was still holding his eyes when König approached. Slowly, this time. Like he was trying to check up on him.

But the second he got too close, Ghost dropped the act and swung. Hit after hit, blow after blow. König deflected some, but he couldn’t protect himself from all of them. Several landed on his head, his chest, his shoulders.

There was no rhyme or reason to Ghost’s hits. You were all trained to go for the vitals, to fixate on pulse points. He wasn’t doing that. He was throwing his fists everywhere he could, flailing like an inflatable mascot outside a car dealership. No mercy. No control. Only rage.

This was too tense. Every passing moment, it looked like a different person was going to win.

You couldn’t even work out who you were rooting for.

König kicked a leg out. It caught Ghost off guard, for just a moment. He seized the opportunity, landing another kick straight into Ghost’s groin.

The shorter man doubled over, groaning and gasping. König wasted no time. He landed a sickening uppercut to Ghost’s jaw. It made an awful crunching sound.

Ghost fell to the ground. König lifted a leg, his foot above Ghost’s head.

No. No!

König brought his foot down, aiming right for Ghost’s hea –

“OI!”

Everyone froze. Both Ghost and König stopped paying attention each other. Their eyes were suddenly fixed on a point behind you. You spun to see.

Price was standing in the doorway. Soap was just behind him.

Oh, thank fuck.

The relief of knowing that the boys would have to stop fighting was short lived. Under the scrutiny of Price’s thunderous gaze, it curled up and died.

“What the fuck is going on?” Price demanded, stepping further into the room. His eyes travelled between each person, lingering for an uncomfortably long time on you.

No one spoke. It felt like being caught with your hand in the cookie jar.

And you didn’t even do anything wrong.

“Well?” He continued, eyes wild and furious. Only silence answered him. “No one got the balls to tell me?”

“I was trying to get them to stop, sir.” You found yourself explaining, holding your hands out in a gesture of innocence. “They were just – ”

“Everybody out.” He barked, clicking his fingers to the door. “Everyone except König.”

For a moment, no one moved.

“Now.” He commanded.

You weren’t waiting for a third instruction. Two was enough. With one last concerned glance at Ghost, who was currently getting up from the floor at a snail’s pace, you turned heel and scurried out of the door.

Chapter Text

The night air was cold. A thin trail of smoke wafted from your cigarette, curling upwards, dancing in the breeze. You took another drag. It burned. The burn felt good. Grounding.

Images of Ghost and König fighting were still flying through your brain. Watching them recoil in pain, hearing the cracks and crunches of fists hitting bones. Hopefully neither of them came away with lasting damage. That wouldn’t be surprising, considering their relative strengths. It was jarring to see König bring you into their fight. Worse still, how it made Ghost react.

Fuck. The whole thing was a huge mess. You took another drag, watching the embers at the end of the cig light up in burnt orange.

Suddenly, your whole body was enveloped in an amber glow. The sound of a door nearby informed you of its source – someone had come to join you. Your heart did a flip when you realised it was Ghost. His jacket and gloves were back on, but not his tactical gear. He took one look at your cigarette and held his hand out, expectantly.

“God, I need one of those.” He grunted, shaking his head. His eyes met yours. “Please?”

You handed him the pack wordlessly, letting him help himself. He took one, and the pack got slipped back into your pocket.

The two of you stood for a moment, smoking in silence. A thousand different sentences were right on the tip of your tongue. You wanted to give him a piece of your mind, let him know exactly how you were feeling.

… But, you didn’t.

Not only was he your commanding officer, but he was also a man that just a few minutes ago had been enraged enough to physically fight a colleague. A subordinate, no less. After a day like today, he wouldn’t exactly be open to criticism.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him turn. He seemed to look you over for a second, brows furrowed.

“You’re bleeding.” He noted. His hand went to your arm. It made you flinch, as a sudden sharp pain shot through it.

“What?” You asked, trying to spot what he was looking at. Then, you remembered. “Oh, shit. Yeah.”

During the firefight with the rager, a bullet had grazed past your arm. All of the adrenaline and distraction from the fight had caused you to forget what happened, pushing the pain into the background whilst you focused on not letting Ghost and König kill each other.

“Pull your sleeve up.” He said. “Let me see.”

You obliged, carefully pulling away the fabric to expose the wound. It looked worse that it felt, a dark angry gash weeping a gentle trickle of blood. You’d been lucky enough to not be seriously hurt, but his brows were furrowed tightly with concern.

“That needs patchin’ up.” He said, softly.

Before you could respond, he started glancing around. There was a little smoking shelter a few yards away. It looked a bit like a garden shed with the door missing. Without a word, or even a glance in your direction, he began walking over to it.

You followed in his wake. He was your commanding officer. It felt weird not to.

Ghost didn’t acknowledge your obedience, the way you’d followed unquestioningly. “Sit.”

He was pointing to the bench. You plonked your butt down on it, and he sat himself next to you.

“Shouldn’t I go to medical?” You asked, taking a draw from your cig. In here, despite the amount of breeze coming in from the open side of the shelter, the smoke still blew away slower. Some of it got trapped in the roof, intermingling with the smoke coming from Ghost.

He shook his head, tossing his own cig aside to begin digging through the pockets of his tac vest. “It’s just a scratch. I’m trained. I can handle it.”

Supplies started getting dropped on the bench between the both of you. Plasters, bandages, bottles of disinfectant. It was eerily similar to when König had patched you up, on that very first mission you’d all had together.

“Are you hurt?” You asked, trying to see if you could spot any damage on the small visible section of his face. König had gotten a few good hits in.

“I’m fine.” He shook his head, dismissing the notion. “Always am.”

You didn’t reply. It was doubtful that was true, but once again, arguing felt like the wrong move.

“Besides,” he continued, letting out a sigh, “I wanted to have a chat.”

“About what?” You questioned, a heavy sense of trepidation hanging over you.

“König.” He replied, his tone flat. “Now, give me your arm.”

Frustration bubbled up inside you.

“Really?” You retorted, whipping your head around to glare at him. “You’re going to double down?”

“Just hear me out. He – ”

“You could’ve gotten seriously injured!” You cried. “Or you could’ve injured him!”

Something in your voice cracked as you spoke. Ghost’s eyes were a little wide. He clearly hadn’t been expecting a reaction like this. You used it to your advantage and kept talking.

“I mean, that was so stupid, Ghost. You’re his commanding officer. You can’t just do whatever you want.”

“Private.” Ghost had his hand held out, waiting for you to let him start patching you up. There was no anger in his tone anymore. His voice was surprisingly soft. “Think about the facts. Hear me out. Please.”

Now, it was your turn to be taken aback. For once, he seemed to be being genuinely earnest.

You shrugged off your jacket to give him better access, leaving you in only a t-shirt, and gave him your arm. He took it in his hand, his touch incredibly gentle. This was confusing. He wasn’t being like himself.

“He shows up out of nowhere. Instantly warms to the newest, most inexperienced member of the squad. Takes you out on a mission and you nearly get blown up.” Ghost began, counting off each item one by one as he began wiping disinfectant on the wound. It stung a little. “We tell him our intel and go on a major operation against his former team. An operation that ends up bein’ a shit show.”

He was talking about the convoy mission. The image of König not shooting Horangi, letting him go, ran laps through your mind. You swallowed, hard. He wasn’t wrong.

“Then, he tells us he has a contact with intel.” Ghost continued, grabbing another wipe from the pack and washing the blood off your skin. “But when we get there, it’s almost a perfect set up. They had an invisible laser signal and a squad ready and waitin’, for fucks sake.”

You didn’t say anything. The facts were hard to deny, when laid out like this.

“I haven’t heard a fuckin’ thing about this supposed attack on us. I’ve seen no evidence that KorTac can or will plant bombs in our base.” He finished. “And that’s his whole bloody argument for his innocence.”

Again, you said nothing. Ghost squeezed your arm. Not hard. It didn’t hurt. It was just enough to grab your attention.

“I know he’s nice to you. I know I shouldn’t have fought ‘im. But don’t tell me you don’t see it.” He said. His eyes were searching yours, looking for validation. “Come on, Private.”

Ugh. Fuck.

“I suppose…” you let out a long, hard sigh. “I guess when you lay it all out like that…”

Usually, Ghost would butt in to reiterate his point. Not now. Now he was watching you, letting you finish that thought. Forcing you to say the words out loud. The words that you really didn’t want to say.

“Look, you can frame anything to make it sound suspicious.” You replied, carefully. “If you pick and choose your facts.”

“But you do think it sounds suspicious.”

“… Maybe. Fuck. I don’t know, Ghost.”

Something ignited in his eyes. He returned to the task at hand, wiping disinfectant over the wound. Sharp, tingling pain radiated across your skin.

“It’s okay. That’s all I needed to hear.”

“Hey.” You pointed a finger at him with your good hand, giving him a pointed glare. “I didn’t say anything definitive.”

Ghost shook his head. His eyes wandered, looking out to the dark forest at the edge of the base. “Your uncertainty is all I need.”

“Need for what?”

“To tell me I’m not crazy.” He said. “I don’t trust him, and I feel like the only motherfucker who sees it.”

Of course. He was only having this conversation so he could keep up this exhausting, never-ending conflict between the two of them. He pulled a sterile dressing from his supplies, carefully affixing it over your wound.

“I trust him.” You replied, curtly.

“Do you?”

Did you?

He didn’t shoot Horangi – and he threw you under the bus the second you questioned it. It had been so easy for him to find those insults, to choose just the right words to hurt you. The moment his job was threatened, he’d gone for the throat.

Ghost turned then, giving you a quick pump of the eyebrows as his mouth curled into a smirk. His jawline glinted in the low light, blonde stubble peppering his chin.

“You see? Now you’re questionin’ things.” He pointed out. “You’re lookin’ beyond the fuckin’ nice guy charade he puts on.”

This was uncomfortable. It was hard to know what to think. Hard to know what to say.

Ghost kept pressing.

“You’ve known ‘im barely three weeks.”

“I’ve only known you two months.” You retorted, carefully.

Surprisingly, Ghost nodded, taking that on board. You inhaled, feeling the last dregs of the smoky burn at the back of your throat. It probably needed putting out. There was an ashtray bolted to the wall. You stubbed your cig out on it and dropped it in.

“Yeah. Fair.” He said, slowly. “But you can look up my service history. I’ve been on this task force for years. You know that.”

He began packing away his supplies again. To say that he was such a force of violence, the trained soldier inside him still showed through as he clearly treated his things carefully and methodically.

“What’s he been doin’?” He asked. “What was he gettin’ up to at KorTac?”

Your mind wandered. The chems. The experiments. König’s uncomfortable reaction to the video shown in the briefing. The raw fear when faced with the soldier hopped up on battle rage.

How much of that was his fault? How many people had he sent to their deaths?

“I don’t know.” You concluded, shaking your head as you pulled your jacket back on. It wasn’t enough to straight up accuse him of anything.

… but it was enough to cause doubt.

Real doubt.

Ghost took your face in his hands. His gloved fingers rubbing gently along your jaw.

“Private.” He said, softly. “You’re not like me. You’re kind. Warm. You trust people.”

A soft, gentle breeze blew past. It picked up a couple of strands of your hair, floating in the wind. Ghost’s eyes were locked on yours. It made your stomach do flips.

“He knows that. Just like I know it.” He continued. A little sigh escaped him, accompanied by the slump of his shoulders. “I don’t want him to take advantage.”

“He won’t.” You told him, gently holding onto one of his wrists. One of your fingers had slipped under his sleeve, making contact with the bare skin underneath. “I’m too smart for that.”

Ghost’s eyes creased into a smile.

“I know. I know you are.” He nodded. Something in him seemed to ease up a little. “You’re a good girl.”

There it was again. That little term of endearment that made heat flow through you. Your gaze flicked down, glancing at his exposed mouth.

“I’ve only ever tried to protect you.” Ghost said, slowly. “Haven’t always gone about it the right way. I know that now.”

His face was so close to yours. His breath was hot, but not unpleasant. You swallowed, hard, trying to contain the surge of feelings inside you.

“I just want you to be safe.” He continued. “Safe and happy.”

You didn’t reply. His hand moved, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. His eyes flicked down, presumably looking at your mouth. You couldn’t keep your eyes off his, and his lips, and his jawline…

Before you even realised what was happening, the two of you were locked in a kiss. His lips pressed firmly against yours, stubble scratching your face a little. A strong hand wrapped around the back of your head, keeping you pulled in close.

Heat and passion surged through your body like wildfire. His mouth tasted of smoke. It didn’t brother you one bit. Every little touch made you crave more, need him more. Cupping his jaw just felt right. To touch what no one ever even got to see was thrilling. He was letting you in, letting you have a piece of him that no one else had.

Things escalated. With a noise that was somewhere between a growl and a moan, Ghost suddenly grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into his lap. Your thighs straddled his hips, crotches pressed tantalisingly close.

“Fuck, your mouth tastes so good.” He said, taking a break from the kiss to take heavy breaths. You felt just as excited as he seemed, your heart pounding like a drum. His eyes were staring down into yours. “It’s like fuckin’ heroin.”

“Then taste it.” You urged, pulling him in again. This time, as your lips met his, so too did your hands reach out. They started by gripping his shirt, but quickly moved downwards, one of them wandering down his bicep.

He leaned in again, kissing you deeply as he shrugged his jacket off his shoulders. The opportunity to run your hands over bare skin was right there and you took it. His skin was still coated in a light sheen of sweat. There was a certain masculine musk that emanated from him, and you craved it.

“Was he jealous?” Ghost suddenly asked, pulling away. His hand rested on your thigh. It drove you wild. “When he found out you slept with me, I mean.”

You gave him a playful slap across his chest.

“I let you sleep in my bed.” You replied. “Those are two very different things.”

His smugness was infuriating. He regarded you for a second, a wry smirk drawing up the corners of his mouth. It was still jarring to actually be able to see him do that, rather than infer it from his eyes.

“Well, if that made him jealous, then this’ll really make him blow his top.” He said, before leaning forward and planting a kiss on your neck.

Fuck.

Tingles shot through you. Down to your core. God, that felt fucking good.

You didn’t answer him. Partially because you didn’t know how. Partially because he was making your brain melt. He still had a firm grip on your thigh, holding you in place on his lap.

After a few seconds of hesitation, he started chuckling. The feeling of his warm breath on your neck tickled a little.

“You didn’t tell ‘im, did you?”

“I didn’t tell anyone. I haven’t had the opportunity.”

“Oh, really?” He asked, pulling back just enough to look up into your eyes. Questioning. Curious. “Didn’t even run off to Johnny?”

That caught you off guard for a moment. Of course. Soap hadn’t exactly been subtle whilst you were on mission.

You felt a flush spreading over your cheeks.

“Sorry about that. He just – ”

“It’s fine.” Ghost waved a hand, nonchalantly. He was taking it surprisingly well. “He’s a smart kid. Knows me too well. He was always gonna put two and two together eventually.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Ghost’s fingers moved, gently rubbing up and down your thigh. It felt electric. After a moment, he reached up with his other hand, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Look at you.” He murmured, under his breath. “Come here.”

With that, he used a hand on your chin to pull you back in, guiding your lips to his. Nothing else in the world mattered right now. Nothing but you and Ghost, interlocked in the physical contact you’d been craving since being stuck in that infernal closet. He was gripping your waist now, his hand rubbing up and down your side. It would stroke downwards, to just above your belt, and then rise up so that his fingers were millimetres away from the soft flesh of your breast.

It was clear what he wanted. But he wasn’t taking it.

“It’s okay.” You gasped. “Touch me.”

Ghost’s eyes lit up. “Greedy.”

But, despite his teasing, he didn’t need telling twice. No sooner had you given him permission than he had taken a firm grip of your breast, gentle kneading and rubbing. Even through your clothes, it felt electric.

His head lowered, his lips pressing into your neck. The moan that escaped you was unavoidable. He moved from your neck to your collarbone, kissing and sucking and nibbling at your skin. You leaned in closer, rocking your hips against his. His excitement grew apparent, his body pulsing between your legs.

“Go under.” You urged him, tilting your head up to relish in the feeling. His hand hesitated, and you moved it yourself, pulling it under your shirt. “It’s okay.”

“Wait.”

You froze, unsure if you’d made the wrong move. He carefully removed his gloved hand from your body, before holding it in front of your face.

“Bite.” He commanded.

Oh. God, yeah. You eagerly clamped your teeth around the fingertip of his glove. He pulled, peeling the material off his hand and dropping it on the bench.

“Good girl.” He nodded. “Such an obedient little thing.”

With that, he returned to what he was doing. His bare fingers slipped under your shirt, inside your bra. A little gasp left your lips as he grazed your nipple, the sensation making lightning shoot down to your crotch. His hand was icy cold, only amplifying the sensation.

You leant backwards, steadying your weight by holding his knee. The angle let your hips rock harder, pushing your crotch roughly against his. He was rock hard now. Grinding on the tent in his trousers was unavoidable, like your body was moving for you.

All of the heat was making you come undone. The neck of Ghost’s t-shirt had dropped slightly, showing a sliver of his chest. It was irresistible. You started touching before a second thought even came to mind. His pecs were firm under your grip, his muscle tensing and hardening as you made contact.

He finally pulled back, ending the delicious sensation of his lips against your skin. There was a wild look in his eyes. The kind of look you usually only saw him have on the battlefield.

“How far are we taking this?” He asked. “This isn’t the best location.”

“Not that far.” You breathed. He was right. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t exactly rip his clothes off and let him fuck you right here and now. This station was mere meters away from the door to the barracks. Out of sight from the cameras, but not exactly hidden away.

But you needed more than this. More than light groping, more than heavy petting. Your body was singing for his; calling out in the way only an animal can.

“But, maybe…” you took his hand and moved it south, until he was grazing the hemline of your underwear. “Maybe this far.”

Ghost raised an eyebrow, eyes searching yours. “You sure?”

You were very goddamn sure. There was a moist patch in your underwear already, your arousal rising to fever pitch.

“Yes.” You breathed, grinding your hips on his again. He let out a low growl in response. “Please.”

“Oh, I like that.” He grinned. “The sound of you begging for it.”

Still, he didn’t move. A frown came to your face, pure frustration and need.

“Don’t you want to?”

“I just want to hear you ask me one more time.”

You gritted your teeth. The incessant teasing was only driving you wilder. His fingertips were still resting on the hemline of your panties. So close, and yet so far.

“Touch me, Ghost.” You replied, too quickly to even give it a second thought. “Please, touch me.”

“That’s my good girl.” Ghost groaned, finally moving his hand. It brushed over the front of your underwear, cupping your mound. Something in his eyes sparked to life.

“Oh, would you look at that?” He said, fingers sliding across the moist patch. “You’re awfully wet, Princess.”

He was mocking you with that nickname, but you didn’t care. You were far too turned on to feel even the slightest hint of shame. Having his hand so close to your quivering arousal was making every rational thought fly straight out of your brain.

“Can’t help myself.” You gasped. “Fuck, Ghost, please.”

For a second, he looked like he might make another comment. His eyes were locked intently on yours, watching every little detail of your reaction. Every gasp, every shiver, they all made his grin wider.

Finally, without a word, he did as you asked. His hand slipped inside your underwear, one of his fingers running the length of your slit. He took less than a second of exploration before it slowly slipped inside you.

You threw your head back, relishing in the feeling. Finally being filled was a sensation comparable to the divine. His finger could reach further in than you ever could yourself. As he slowly began to pump it in and out, his thumb came into play, rubbing light circles on your clit.

“Oh, fuck.” You were whining and moaning with every movement, your body like putty in his hands. “Oh, yes. That’s it.”

“You like this, Princess? You like my finger inside you?”

Your eyes were squeezed shut, face pointed to heaven. As if his very touch had the power to make you ascend. Nodding was your only option, biting your lip to avoid making too much noise.

“Come on, Princess.” He removed his other hand from your breast to snap his fingers in front of your face, keeping you grounded. “Words.”

“Yes, Ghost.” You opened a single eye to look at him, feeling the pleasure furrow your features. “I love it.”

He thrusted his finger a little deeper, curling it to hit that sensitive spot inside you. It made your stomach do flips, your body writhing and tensing up.

“Want another?” He panted.

You nodded.

Ghost tutted, two sharp clicks of his tongue. The sound made your mind conjure up dirty thoughts.

“Come on, Princess. What did I tell you?”

“I… I want another finger inside me.” You gulped, rocking yourself against his hand. His thumb sped up a little, lazy circles on your clit becoming focused, intent. Forming coherent sentences was more and more difficult by the second.

“That’s it. Good girl.” He pulled his finger out to rub you a little, teasing your entrance, before sliding two fingers back into you. By now, you’d become so wet that there was no resistance.

“Fuck me, you’ve got a tight little pussy.” Ghost said, his tone thick with arousal. “I can feel you clenching around my fingers.”

He was making you feel so good. All you wanted right now was for him to feel the same. Every time you moaned, you could practically feel his cock twitching between your legs. It needed attention.

Your hand grazed the front of his trousers, hooking a fingertip underneath the thigh strap of his holster.

“You want me to return the favour?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

His zip was easy to deal with. Undoing his belt was a little harder. But once it was all undone, you could slide your hand underneath, feeling the bulge in his underwear. His whole body shook in reaction to it.

“Christ.” Ghost grunted, the strain in his voice clear as day. “Good girl. Get your hands on it.”

Not hand. Hands. Plural.

He used his free hand to pull the front of his pants down, letting himself spring free. Your eyes widened a little. He was bigger than you’d expected. Sizeable and thick, with a couple of veins spanning down the shaft. He had a drop of precum oozing from the tip already, giving away how worked up you’d gotten him.

Ghost seemed to notice your look of surprise, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “This ain’t standard issue equipment, Princess.”

“Damn.” The word left your mouth before you could stop it. The last thing you wanted was to stroke his ego, but you just couldn’t help it.

Ghost suddenly stopped pumping his fingers, watching and waiting for your next move. In the absence of the stimulus, you felt restless. Eager.

“Go on.” He urged you. “Make me feel good.”

“Yes, sir.” You bit back a wry smile, wrapping your hand around his length. Ghost let his head fall back, groaning approvingly.

Pleasuring him like he was doing to you was the only thing on your mind. But with each pump of his shaft, he would thrust his fingers inside you, matching your rhythm. It urged you to go faster. That, and it distracted you greatly.

“Rub that little clit for me.” Ghost breathed. “I’m gonna be rough, but I wanna see you cum.”

You did as he ordered, using your free hand to stimulate yourself. The combination of feelings was rising to fever pitch. Pleasure was building inside your body, raging like a fire. The flames licked higher, filling your very core with nothing but heat, arousal, and ecstasy. Your climax was coming, just over the hill.

“That’s it.” Ghost was urging you on, relishing every reaction you gave him. “Fuck, your pretty face is a picture.”

“Oh, god…” you whined, writhing in his lap. You worked him faster, pumping his cock like you were trying to milk the fucking thing.

“Yes, come on, gorgeous.” He was nodding, watching you closely. “Give me that cum, let yourself – ”

A door opened nearby.

The two of you froze.

Then, footsteps.

Everything happened at once. You practically flew from Ghost’s lap, hurriedly tugging your clothes back into place. By the time you looked at him, Ghost had done the same – tucked himself away, put his gear back into place. He’d even tugged his mask back down.

“Lieutenant.” The sound of Price’s voice chilled you to the bone. “The hell are you doing out here?”

Ghost pushed you to the wall behind you, clamping his hand tightly over your mouth. His bare hand. The smell of your own arousal wafted up your nose. He was staring over your shoulder, through the open doorway just next to you.

“Captain.” Ghost cleared his throat, though the shock was still apparent in his tone. If this wasn’t such a nail biting situation, you might’ve found it funny. He’d never sounded so caught off guard before. “Just havin’ a smoke. Everythin’ alright?”

You held your breath. If Price caught you right now, there would be no going back. Your career was on the line.

“No. No, it’s fucking not.” Price replied. God, he sounded angry. Every hint of excitement that you still held inside quickly curled up and perished. “We need to have a serious chat about your behaviour.”

Ghost’s hand flexed, tightening around your face a little. As if he was warning you to stay silent. Not that you needed reminding.

“Oh. Uh, yeah. Of course, sir.”

“Not here.” Price said. Thank fuck. “Come with me.”

Ghost released you from his grip, stepping away from the doorway like he had just been using it to lean against. Smooth. You didn’t move a single muscle. Barely dared to breathe.

“I mean, Christ, Simon.” Price was grumbling, his voice getting quieter as they slowly walked back to the barracks. The further away they got, the harder it was to listen. “What the fuck’s gotten into you? You really…”

The door to the barracks opened, and then slammed shut, cutting Price’s voice off mid-sentence.

You were alone.

It took a long time for your heart to slow down. For your breathing to return to normal. Shit, that was close. Way too close. You couldn’t even imagine how Ghost was feeling right now.

The night air was sobering. Things with Ghost had gotten so hot and heavy, you hadn’t even felt the chill of the biting wind. It was bloody freezing out here.

But you sat and waited, trying to leave enough time for them to fully clear off before you scampered back to your dorm.

All you could think about was Ghost’s touch.

Chapter Text

The morning air was crisp, and bracing. Usually, you’d be a part of a training exercise at this time of day – some form of gruelling physical training to keep the squad in top shape.

Not this morning.

This morning, you were sat on the grass at the outskirts of the compound, eagerly munching down a cereal bar, and watching what might be the most entertaining display you’d ever had the pleasure of enjoying with your breakfast.

“Look at ‘em.” Soap was grinning, shaking his head. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

He was right, of course. The two of you were watching Ghost and König taking part in a gruelling punishment. As Price had clearly – and quite angrily – instructed, they were in the middle of an admin thrash. Soap and Gaz had had the pleasure of rifling through their lockers, taking out all of their kit, and then hiding each piece all the way up a large hill at the edge of the grounds. For each item they found, they had to lug it to the top, and then do ten press ups.

König had found three pieces so far. Ghost had found five.

“You must be loving this.” You nodded, glancing sideways at Soap. “He’s made you do this before.”

“Aye.” Soap chuckled. “He’s getting a taste of his own medicine.”

You had no idea what Price had said to Ghost last night, after he’d nearly the caught the two of you. Once the coast was clear, you’d scampered off to bed. It had taken ages to get to sleep. Turns out, women could get blue balls too. That was a fact you now knew to be definite.

But whatever Price had said, it had clearly affected them both. They were both notably sullen this morning, all of their fire stamped out.

Watching Ghost now, looking at him in daylight, brought new feelings to the surface. Memories of his breath on your skin, his hands on your body, in your body… all of it ran through your mind, sending a rushing wave of heat down to your core. The two of you had a secret. A shared experience no one could know about. It was as thrilling as it was anxiety-inducing. Looking at König made you feel even stranger.

“They should be working together.” You sighed. “A coordinated sweep would allow them to find their stuff so much faster.”

“Like that’ll ever happen.” Soap said, an air of nonchalance in his tone. “Price is barking up the wrong tree.”

As if to demonstrate his point, Ghost suddenly turned around and called out to König. They were too far away for you to make out the words, but close enough that you could see König simply shake his head and ignore him. You found yourself rolling your eyes, completely unsurprised by the interaction.

“D’you think they’ll ever learn to play nice?” You chuckled, shaking your head. Soap snorted, a similar expression of doubt on his face.

He ran a hand through his mohawk. For a moment, it looked like he might add to that sentiment, but in the end he turned to you, a mischievous expression on his face.

“Speakin’ of playin’ nice…” he drawled, leaning conspiratorially towards you, “you wanna fill me in on what’s going on?”

“Oh god.” You clapped your hands over your face, feeling the hot flush creeping over them already. “I don’t know where to even start.”

Soap laughed. “I do. You wanna talk about that closet?”

Christ. The closet. Now that was a whole can of worms that was going to be difficult to unpack. It was hard to think about that, about being pressed between Ghost and König, without feeling a second hot rush of arousal.

“Yeah, that was… an interesting experience.” You replied, your voice coming out strangled and strained.

“Go on. Admit it.” Soap joined, nudging you with his elbow. “You loved it.”

Oh, this was difficult. So many dirty thoughts were running through your mind. You couldn’t voice any of them to Soap, of all people.

“Fine.” You sighed, with a wry smile. “It wasn’t exactly terrible, no.”

He clapped his hands together in delight. “Knew it. You dirty dog.”

Your cheeks flushed with a hint of shame. Soap had had a front row seat to your shenanigans. But, in a way, you supposed that it was probably a stroke of luck that it had been him that had witnessed it. As embarrassing as this was, you could trust Soap. Teasing you would be the only way he used such information. Having Gaz in his place – or worse, Price – would be an entirely different story.

“Nothing happened.” You insisted. Memories of grinding on both of them flashed behind your eyes. “Not… not really.”

“Oh, yeah.” Soap’s voice was flat, his expression full of doubt. “Nothin’ except big man rockin’ a stiffy.”

What a lovely choice of phrase. It would’ve been funny if the memory was so damn arousing. The two of them, unable to control themselves, pressing against you…

“Oh, he wasn’t the only one.” Your reply was breezy, nonchalant. Ghost was at the top of the hill now, doing ten press-ups after having found something too small for you to make out.

Next to you, Soap’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

“You’re havin’ me on.”

“Would I lie to you about something like that?”

Soap let out a cackle, clapping his hands together.

“Ha! Amazing. That’s killer ammunition.”

“Hey, no. Uh-uh.” You stuck a finger up at him, your expression stern. “That stays between us. I’m trusting you here, Soap.”

“Oh, aye, fine.” Soap nodded, with a sigh. “I’m no grass.”

Once again, you found yourself grateful for the big Scottish man currently laughing his head off beside you. Without him, you’d have no one to talk to about this.

Warmth enveloped your body. The sun had appeared from behind a cloud, bathing the two of you in its golden glow. Of all the mornings you’d spent on base, this might be the best so far. No training. No commanding officer barking orders at you. Just you and Soap, laughing it up as you watched Ghost and König work their arses off.

Eventually, the laughter died down. Soap turned to you, his expression serious.

“What are you gonna do?” Soap suddenly asked. His eyes wandered pointedly up the hill. Ghost and König were together at the top, doing more press ups. “You can’t have ‘em both.”

And there it was. The one constant question that haunted every happy interaction with either of them. When you were with Ghost, you felt guilty about König. When you were with König, you felt guilty about Ghost. Soap was right. You couldn’t have both. Not forever.

The two of them could barely be inside the same room. Never mind inside the same bed, or the same woma –

“I don’t know.” You sighed. A forbidden thought had nearly formed in your mind. It had to be cut off. “They’re so different.”

“Nah.” Soap crossed his arms, shaking his head. “Their problem is that they’re too damn similar. Each one reminds the other of himself.”

He had a point. Ghost and König were both big, bullheaded military men. Both hid their faces from the world. Both were usually the deadliest man in the room.

But… Soap wasn’t totally right, either. Ghost was aggressive, sure, but he was passionate and bold and he believed in you. When you struggled, Ghost had a firm hand on your back, pushing you forwards. König was softer, and gentle, but sometimes he couldn’t see past that, and it led him to underestimate you. Not to mention, that man had secrets. Things happened at KorTac and you were completely in the dark about it.

Ghost made you the best version of yourself. König reminded you that you didn’t have to do it alone.

“One is my commanding officer. The other is our brand-new squad mate.” You sighed. “Neither are suitable options.”

“Don’t give me that shite.” Soap snorted, dismissively. “Fuck what’s suitable.”

Ghost and König finished their press ups. As they began walking back down the hill, something new happened. König leant over and pointed at something. Surprisingly, Ghost seemed to actually listen – he followed König’s finger, walking over to pick something else up off the floor.

Price’s plan was… working?

“He talks about you.” Soap suddenly smiled. You whipped your head around, eager for details. “Never shuts up, in fact.”

“Who? Ghost?”

“Aye.” Soap rolled his eyes. His voice changed, a rough and grumpy impression of the Lieutenant. “Private did well today. The Private would love this. Maybe we should ask the Private.”

Your smile spread from ear to ear. This was a complete revelation. You hadn’t been sure if he even thought about you when you weren’t there, never mind talking about you. That was just so damn… cute.

Soap caught your eye.

“Yeah, look at ya. As red as a tomato.”

“I am not.” Covering your face with your hands wasn’t going to help now, but you did it anyway. “Fuck off, MacTavish.”

“Alright.” A new voice startled you straight. “What’s got you so red?”

Gaz was approaching, tailed by Alejandro and Rodolfo. With little more than a nod, they plonked themselves beside you, also looking out towards the hill. König was doing press ups at the top. Ghost was doing a comprehensive sweep of the right-hand side.

“Nothing!” You squeaked. “It’s hot out here. I’m sweating.”

“… Good to know.” Gaz remarked, raising an eyebrow.

“Ah, you Brits cannot handle the heat.” Alejandro said, tutting disapprovingly. “You wouldn’t last two seconds in Las Almas.”

Rodolfo made a comment in Spanish that made Alejandro bark out a laugh. You were just about to demand a translation when Gaz thrust a tablet into your hands.

“Plans for later.” He remarked, opening up a briefing document. “Captain wanted me to fill you guys in.”

“I thought we weren’t going on mission ‘till tomorrow?” Soap asked, a frown on his face. Gaz shrugged.

“There’s an opening.” He said. “Old man doesn’t want to pass it up.”

You studied the document. They’d found the base that KorTac were using to store the chems. This was a mission briefing as to how you were going to infiltrate it, and then burn it to the ground.

“We’re together again.” You noted, judging Soap with your elbow. “You and me, taking the helo. Nikolai’s driving.”

He gave you a quick pump of his brows, smirk plastered all over his face. “Dream team.”

Just like the last mission, Soap had one of the most important jobs of all. Once the ground teams had done their work, he was in charge of marking the targets for demolition.  Those targets just happened to be the silos that stored the chems. Your job was exactly what you expected – overwatch.

Others were paired off into different teams. Everything seemed typical. Price was with Gaz. Alejandro, with Rodolfo.

Ghost… and König.

A risky choice in your opinion, but that didn’t matter. You weren’t the captain.

“Valeria will be on base.” Rodolfo said, casting a pointed look at everyone. “Be careful.”

Alejandro nodded with conviction, clapping a hand on Rodolfo’s back. “Si, Hermano. Do not underestimate that bruja.”

Gaz shook his head, clearly feeling much more nonchalant that the two Mexican Special Forces members next to him.

“We’ll be fine.” He said, giving them a shrug. “She’s one woman.”

“She is not one woman.” Alejandro retorted, distaste in his tone. “She is a demon in a human body.”

Soap held his hands out, trying to ease some of the tension in the air. “No matter what happens, we’ll be ready.”

You nodded along with him. That was a good sentiment. One to hold onto. No matter what horrors you might face when fighting KorTac, you had each other. You had your boys.

“Yeah.” You nodded. “We’re a team.”

Well, some of you were. Whether or not Ghost and König would call themselves a team, you didn’t know.

Your gaze travelled back up the hill. Both men were sweeping it for items, though this time it was different. Up until now, they seemed to be motivated by desperation and frustration, searching randomly and without purpose. Now, they were working methodically, each searching one half of the hill, trusting the other to cooperate and find their items for them.

Maybe Price could see something you couldn’t.

Chapter Text

Wind was screaming around your head, whipping strands of your hair into your face. The setting sun was casting a beautiful orange glow across the sky, illuminating the bottoms of the clouds in pink. The last warm rays of the sun were casting long shadows, making the branches of trees look like the legs of ents walking over the fields below. It was beautiful. Peaceful.

Much more peaceful than the next few hours were going to be, anyway.

Soap was sat next to you, strapped into the other backseat of the helo. The location was imminent – a few more klicks, and you would be in range of KorTac’s base.

Not their main base, of course. This was little better than a storage facility. As the briefing had detailed, KorTac had set up a processing plant for the vast shipment of chems you’d let them get away with. Your job was to put it out of commission.

“Actual to Bravo 7-1.” A voice played in your headset. Laswell’s voice. “Come in, Soap.”

Soap leant forwards, clasping his hands over his own headset, holding it tighter against his head. The front tips of his Mohawk were flapping in the breeze, almost comically.

“Copy that, Actual. This is 7-1!”

“You near the location, Soap?”

Soap paused, glancing out of the window, and then down at his watch.

“Only a couple minutes out!” He replied, shouting over the screaming wind. Laswell made some kind of noise, a hum of approval.

“Everyone is waiting and ready. AA gun is already offline.” She replied. Soap grinned, nodding in acknowledgement even though she couldn’t see him over the radio.

“Well, thank you, Captain.” Soap chuckled under his breath. He pushed the headset’s mic further towards his mouth. “Approaching fast, Actual!”

There were a few moments of radio silence. Your eyes glanced over to Nikolai, who was grasping the controls of the helicopter casually, one of his hands lazily prodding at buttons and switches all over the centre console. His driving was a little reckless, but you didn’t mind. It wasn’t like you could drive a helicopter any better. Or at all.

Suddenly, a new voice came on the radio.

“Shadow-1, ready to strike.”

Commander Graves. An American, in charge of the PMC known as Shadow Company. In all honesty, you didn’t know much about him. Only that he had helped SpecGru’s cause in the past, and he had an arsenal of tech to lay at your disposal. Just like Alejandro and Rodolfo, he was an outside resource that had been called upon to help with the current mission. Unlike them, he had his own transport.

A fleet of deadly aircraft.

Your eyes stayed trained out of the window. Rolling countryside was slowly turning industrial. Green hills and grass turned into concrete roads and dilapidated buildings.

“Nearly there.” Soap warned, calling back to you. “Guns up.”

You didn’t need telling twice. In a flash, your eyes were on the scope, pointing down towards the ground below. It took mere moments before finally, the target came into view.

It was a unique looking building, KorTac’s storage facility. The main structure was a tall, square, concrete building with a glass dome on top. It was surrounded by smaller buildings, arranged around a small courtyard just behind the main gates. Two large steel silos at the rear of the compound told you all you needed to know.

This was the place. Those silos were probably filled to the brim with chems, ready to be processed and shipped out.

Suddenly, the helicopter swung around. You had to hold onto to one of the handles bolted into the ceiling just to keep your balance, and even then, the straps of your harness still dug painfully into your collar bones. The motion made you slam against Soap a little hard. He put an arm around your shoulders, stabilising you, before leaning forwards to line up his shot.

“Am I cleared to shoot?” Soap asked.

Price’s voice played in your ears. “Shadow-1? Ready to go?”

“Affirmative, Cap-i-tan.” Graves replied, his tone breezy and nonchalant. He sounded more like the was agreeing to go to the pub, rather than take part in a major operation. “My boys are as ready as we’ll ever be.”

Laswell’s voice buzzed through again. “That’s your cue, Soap.”

“Roger that, Actual.” Soap was by your side, laser designator already in hand. “Let’s fuckin’ do this.”

He closed one eye, aiming the laser at the silos. There was a short pause, before you heard a click.

Soap grinned. “Booyah.”

At first, there was nothing. It took a couple seconds of tense silence before there came the screaming of engines. Overhead, flying far higher than even the helicopter, zoomed a single plane. You didn’t see the rocket launch out of it. You only saw it zoom to the ground and make contact with the target.

BOOM!

Brilliant arcs of blue flame shot into the sky as the first silo exploded, blasting sheets of metal and sizzling blue streaks across the sky. The whole helicopter lurched from the force of it, Nikolai swearing in Russian and fighting with the controls. Splashes of chems splattered all over nearby buildings, melting through walls and cracking glass.

The next thing you heard were klaxons. KorTac’s entire facility suddenly lit up in flashing white lights. The explosion must have triggered every single alarm system they’d installed. The beams of light they cast weren’t visible in the dying late afternoon sun, but the lights themselves were. The processing plant was sparkling like it was covered in fairy lights.

“Direct hit!” Graves cheered. “Going temporarily offline for reloading.”

“Nice one, Soap!” Price’s voice came through your radio, the alarm playing double as it leaked through his own mic. “Alpha teams, follow my lead!”

Upon Price’s orders, the radio crackled with all different voices, as everyone began to check in and move to their respective positions.

“Entering the rear.” Ghost called. “Bravo 7-3 in tow.”

Alejandro joined in. “Victor 1-1, making our way upstairs!”

Out on the front courtyard, the chaos became more evident. KorTac soldiers poured out of the main building, moving to assume defensive positions. But they were aiming at the front gates. Just like during the convoy mission, they were leaving their sides completely open for you.

You took aim.

BANG! BANG!

It was too easy. Soap was at your side, slipping the laser designator into his pocket so he could pull out his rifle, joining you in picking them off.

BANG BANG! BANG!

Then, a –

CRASH!

Price’s team, the main unit of SpecGru soldiers tasked with entering the front gates, were making their first move. Said gates had just been blasted off their hinges as an armoured truck smashed through them, carving a clear path into the courtyard.

“We’re through!” Price yelled. “Open fire!”

It was like a fireworks display. The cries of pain and the pops of far-off gunfire became the new backdrop to your senses. Both sides unleashed upon each other, a storm of metal and smoke erupting in the space between. You and Soap kept popping off shots, picking off KorTac soldiers where you could.

BANG! BANG! BANG BANG!

You spotted Gaz, hopping a barricade to get at the solider beyond. Another KorTac operative sprung up behind him, knife in hand.

BANG!

Problem solved. Gaz shot the soldier he was aiming at and carried on. Price was close behind him, the two of them cutting a line right through their defences.

“Everyone’s leavin’.” Ghost said, his voice harder to discern than the rest. Clearly, the factory walls at the rear of the base could block radio signals somewhat. “Processin’ plant’s all civvies and lab techs. No heat.”

“Rog’. Sounds like more for us!” Price called back.

The crowd of KorTac soldiers pouring out of the main building thickened. They were swarming around defensive positions, lined up behind cover like meerkats watching for predators. The Alpha teams were making short work of them, chucking grenades over their barriers.

That’s when a new figure emerged. Larger than the rest. Full armoured, head to toe. Plates of metal hung off his frame, covering the major areas – chest, crotch, arms, and thighs. At first you didn’t know what to make of it, until a voice yelled through the radio.

“CHEM-POWERED JUGGERNAUT!”

Of course. The facility producing the chems was bound to be full of people using them. This was no surprise – the briefing had warned you all of this very scenario. You watched as everyone seemed to turn, fire focusing on the raging juggernaut in the middle of it all.

The rager seemed completely unbothered by the attention he garnered. He turned, grabbing a SpecGru soldier by the front of his shirt and throwing him across the courtyard. The soldier landed in a heap and stopped moving. The rager kept moving, swipes of his hands batting people aside, carving a path through your attacking forces.

Price and Gaz split up. As Gaz lead a team of people away from the rager, Price went off on his own, moving off to the side.

You watched with bated breath. It was no use trying to shoot the rager from your position. Any shots simply bounced off his armour and pinged away. All you could do was hold your breath and watch, ready to act if you saw an opening.

The rager stormed up to a group of SpecGru soldiers, who were currently taking cover behind a solid metal fence. Something in your gut dropped as you watched him reach down, strain for a moment, then rip the fence right out of the ground. He chucked the torn, contorted metal aside. It hit someone. They went down.

The soldiers that had been taking cover were panicking, scrambling across the ground to get some distance. The rager was holding some kind of modified shotgun. Light flashed from the barrel as he let off a blast. All three soldiers fell backwards and stopped moving.

No mercy, no sympathy. The rager grabbed one of the bodies and threw it at a different group. They were taking cover a few feet away. The body flew through the air, before it hit the low wall they were hiding behind and tumbled over the top. The guy in the middle got hit square in the face.

Suddenly, one of them burst out from behind cover. A fool, surely. Everywhere that rager went, he was leaving a trail of death behind him. Anyone dumb enough to stand up to him was wishing for death.

Then, you realised who it was.

Your stomach sank. No. Not a fool. A brave, well-meaning idiot.

Gaz.

His assault rifle was trained on the target when he opened fire, and unleashed hell upon the chem-powered jugg. It was like a dream sequence. No matter how many bullets he fired, the rager kept moving. One shuffling, heavy step at a time.

The distance closed fast. You barely dared to breathe. This wasn’t protocol. Open confrontation was a last resort, when dealing with these guys. Gaz stepped backwards and hit the wall he had just been crouched behind.

The rager reached out, grabbed, and threw him off to the side.

Gaz crumpled, rolling until he collapsed in a heap.

Your heart was in your mouth. What now? There seemed to be no stopping the rager, who was now roaring and beating his chest like some sort of animal. Gaz wasn’t moving.

“Gaz!” Price called. “You broken?”

A nail-biting moment passed.

“Not dead yet.” Gaz croaked back. The relief was palpable. You’d watched enough losses already today. “But that bloody hurt.”

“Leave ‘im to me.” Price growled back.

Price was striding up to the group, slinging his assault rifle on his back to allow him to grab his pistol.

Your heart was still pounding. Palms sweating, as you kept a tight hold of your own rifle. The rager had tossed Gaz aside like a rag doll. The limits of his capabilities were unknown.

Price kept approaching. Sauntering up to the target nonchalantly, like he didn’t have a care in the world. The rager clearly heard him and turned. The two faced off for a moment. Your pulse was rushing in your ears.

The rager swung. Price ducked. The rager roared, a sound you managed to hear even way up high, above the gunfire and explosions are all around them. Up close, it must have been deafening. The rager lunged forwards. Price stepped back.

But the rager moved, twice as fast as you’d ever seen one manage. He grabbed Price’s ankle, pulling it out from under him. Price fell, landing on his back. The rager towered over him.

This was it. You took several shots. None of them did a thing.

The rager reached out, aiming to grasp Price’s face. Price rolled. Grabbed the chin of the rager’s helmet. Shoved his pistol in the seam between his neck and his chest. Fired.

bang!

The rager’s head snapped backwards. Then, he crumpled. Price only just managed to roll out of the way before blood poured out of the front of the rager’s helmet, and he fell face first into the ground.

That was close. Way too fucking close.

“Rager down.” Price confirmed, his voice ragged and breathy.

“Nice one, Cap.” Gaz chimed back. Your eyes started scanning the battlefield, trying to find him. Clearly, he didn’t stay down for long. “Just entered the building. Got alpha squad with me.”

“Ghost?” Price asked. “Come in, 0-7.”

“König and I are in the labs, settin’ the charges.” Ghost quickly responded. You breathed a quick sigh of relief at the news. They were doing just fine. You never doubted them for a second, but it was relieving to hear, nonetheless. As someone used to taking overwatch, not having eyes on them was deeply unsettling. Ghost continued, a vague hint of amusement in his tone. “Reminds me of high school science.”

Price chuckled. “Maybe you can study harder this time ‘round.”

Ghost barked a laugh in response. “Ha! Fat fuckin’ chance. König! Pass me that...”

With that, his voice clipped abruptly short. You returned focus to the task at hand, watching as Price followed Gaz’s path into the main building. The area was significantly emptier than the last time you’d looked. The colony of ants looked like it had been stepped on. No people, just bodies. Everyone left was moving internal.

“Victor 1-1, status update.” Laswell interjected. Hearing her calm voice was like a breath of fresh air.

“Approaching the roof.” Alejandro replied. You moved your gaze upwards, scanning the buildings for a moment before catching sight of him making his way up a fire escape. He and Rodolfo were on the south side of the main building. It was topped by three main features – two square structures sticking out the roof that were akin to apartments, and the glass dome in the middle.

“Got eyes on you, Alejandro.” You chimed in. “Providing cover.”

He paused for a moment. Rodolfo spotted the helicopter first, pointing out towards you and tapping Alejandro on the shoulder.

“Copy that, 7-2.” Rodolfo replied, already refocusing on what was in front of him. “We are heading into the first apartment.”

Alejandro and Rodolfo were doing exactly what they were brought here to do – hunting Valeria. Intelligence suggested she would be in one of these top-floor apartments. Not only because a penthouse suite was just her style, but because it allowed the best defensive position on the whole base.

They scurried into the first apartment, as Alejandro kicked the door in and lead them both inside. You kept your eyes peeled, checking their exits. To ensure their safety, the roof had to remain clear. So far, nothing. The area seemed deserted.

“Fuck.” Ghost’s voice suddenly played in your ear, drawing your attention. “Ran into trouble. Trapped in the East lab.”

The East lab was nowhere near. You didn’t have a hope in hell of getting eyes on it.

It was just a distraction. You couldn’t help him. You could help Alejandro and Rodolfo. Wandering attention would result in deaths.

“Clear!” Alejandro called. It was a few short seconds before they reemerged on the other side, making their way back onto the roof.

Movement. You spotted three gunmen, making their way out of the second apartment, on the opposite side of the roof.

BANG!

Two gunmen.

“Heads up!” You called into your mic. “North side.”

The pops of Alejandro and Rodolfo’s guns were inaudible, drowned out by the chaos still happening at the front of the compound. But they turned and fired, making short work of the pair.

Next up was the glass dome. It was a large structure set atop a large hole in the ceiling of the main building. From your angle, so high up, you could easily see down into it. Which meant you could see –

“Enemies coming up to the dome.” You called. There was a small river of bodies, making their way up the spiral staircase inside. At some point this dome must have been an observatory, which meant there needed to be access to it. Now it was just another way for KorTac to get onto the roof. Alejandro and Rodolfo jumped into cover. You started providing covering fire.

Your first shot shattered the glass of the dome, raining hot broken shards of glass into the KorTac soldiers below. A wave of panic seemed to wash over them, as they all grabbed onto each other and ducked for cover. Behind them were more soldiers. In front, exposure and death. They had trapped themselves on the staircase with nowhere to go. Nowhere to escape to.

BANG! BANG! BANG BANG! BANG!

Soap was aiming with you now, helping you thin the herd. It was like shooting fish in a barrel.

“We’re reloaded!” Commander Graves suddenly cut in. “Cleared to fire on the second silo.”

“Give us a sec!” Soap yelled back.

Then, one of the soldiers suddenly pointed a finger upwards, right at the helicopter. He tapped the guy next to him, pointing you out.

You kept firing. Keeping focus was more important.

Then, a new figure. Someone muscled their way through the crowd, shoving fellow KorTac soldiers aside. It was a struggle to keep your sights on him, around so many others.

He was holding something different to the rest. A gun much, much larger than an assault rifle. He hoisted it onto his shoulder, aiming upwards.

Oh, shit.

“INCOMING!” You screamed, watching a rocket fly out of the launcher. It careened upwards, aiming straight for you.

“Christ!” Soap yelled. “Nikolai, pull bac – ”

BOOM!

The blast was deafening. Light flashed, blinding you for a moment, before thick black smoke began to fill the cabin. Every window and windshield shattered, spraying you and Soap in shards.

The whole helicopter lurched. An awful, uncanny groaning sound echoed through the craft as one of the propellers failed, and the whole thing started to fall.

It was almost like being on a rollercoaster. As the helicopter began to drop out of the sky, it spun faster and faster. You felt almost weightless, inertia causing your body to slowly lift into the air. Good thing you were strapped into your seat. Your hands just about touched the ceiling when the spinning threw you aside, tossing you into Soap.

“We’ve been hit!” Soap screamed into the radio. “Goin’ down!”

Nikolai seemed equally panicked, his hands almost a blur as he pushed and pulled on every button and toggle on the control panel of the helicopter.

“I cannot control it!” He cried, fear thick in his voice as he launched into a string of Russian words you didn’t understand.

It was hard to tell how close to the ground you were. The view out of the window was a whirling blur. The radio was alive with voices. Price, Gaz, Alejandro. Ghost. König.

Oh, fuck.

Maybe you’d keep falling forever.

Shit, were these your last moments? Were you about to die here, along with Soap and Nikolai? What about your family? What about –

“Lass!” Soap suddenly yelled. “Now!”

A hand grasped the front of your tac vest, slamming the release on your harness. The rushing wind sucked you out of the helicopter in less than a second. Fresh air filled your lungs, sunlight shining in your eyes. It took a few seconds too open them and focus, only to see the ground rushing up towards you.

“Oh, SHIIIIIII – ” You were screaming, sheer panic gripping taking over. This was bad. Really bad. Really really –

FWUMP!

Something tugged at your vest, and you were sharply jerked upwards. Weightlessness returned.

“Got ya!” Soap whooped. “Hold on tight!”

You turned to see two things – Soap’s face, and the parachute above him. He’d pulled it on and, at the last second, clipped your tac vest to his. Nikolai was several meters away, floating down with his own parachute deployed. The helicopter was even further back, spiralling completely out of control, churning out smoke, spinning and falling until –

BANG!

It hit the ground behind KorTac’s base and exploded. A rush of air blasted you in the face, whipping your hair back. You and Soap rose a few feet from the sheer force of it. Smoke and flames shot upwards into the sky, like a volcano erupting. Even way up here, you could feel the heat of it. Hopefully you’d kept both your eyebrows.

“Holy shit, Soap!” You cried, laughter bubbling up inside you. Fuck, that was close. “Thank you!”

“Don’t thank me yet.” Soap replied, a grim tone haunting his voice. “We’re gonnae land out back with no backup.”

His hands were wrapped around your waist, and you gripped his wrists, as it that was what was keeping you afloat. The straps of your tac vest were pulled taut by your own weight, digging painfully into your skin. Normally you might be weirded out to have such close contact with Soap, but right now it didn’t matter. In fact, it’s what just saved your life.

Nikolai clapped his hands together, his thick chuckle only just audible above the sound of howling wind. The combined weight of you and Soap had dragged the pair of you down faster, meaning he was now several feet above you.

“Hah! Nice try!” He jibed, sticking his middle finger up at the rooftop.

Soap shook his head, laughing along with him. “Crazy bastard.”

You drifted to the ground around the back of KorTac’s base. Thankfully, it was quite far away from the main action. Unfortunately, that meant you were probably out of range if you needed help.

Plus, you supposed, there was no overwatch now.

Since the attachment at your vests meant that neither of you could smoothly run the landing, you and Soap ended up toppling to the ground, landing in a heap. Soap was quick to unclip you from him, allow you both to lay on the ground for a moment. Breathing. Staring. Processing.

“You just saved my life.” You panted, staring up at the sky.

Soap waved a hand, similarly out of breath. “You can repay me later, lass.”

“… copy? Come in! Soap! Nik!” Price was already calling down the radio, his voice clearly strained. The audio quality was terrible, the words barely audible. “7-1! Soap!”

Then, a new voice.

“7-2… -ow copy?” Ghost called. He sounded more like a robot than a person. “Private! D’you… -ear me?”

You pressed the button on your headset to activate your mic, but all that greeted you was an unhealthy buzzing sound. Then, you realised. The arm of the microphone on your headset had been cut short, damaged by the blast. Where the mic used to be was now just cracked plastic.

“My radio’s gone.” You told Soap, pulling yourself slowly into a seated position. “Don’t let him suffer.”

He nodded, pressing a finger to his own headset.

“Solid.” Soap affirmed. “We’re alright. Helo’s fucked.”

It took less than a second for Ghost to respond. “Making our way… your location.”

“Not necessary.” Soap replied, shaking his head. “Aren’t you guys pinned?”

There was a short pause. Then Ghost responded once more. This time, he sounded tired. Like he was running.

“Not anymore.” He said. “König broke out… tore ‘em apart.”

“Bad idea, Ghost.” Price chimed in. “Big squad of… headed your way.”

His response was firm.

“Fuck ‘em. We can… all. Be there in five.”

Nikolai got up first. How he managed to stay so chipper, you had no idea. That was the closest you’d been to death since you signed up.  The waves of fear and panic were only just subsiding, only just easing enough to allow you to come to your senses and formulate a plan.

Nik had already pulled a pistol out of his pocket and loaded it. He gave you and Soap a nod, glaring pointedly towards the building.

“Our exfil is on the other side.” He pointed out. “We must fight through.”

Soap was second to rise, springing up like a puppy dog greeting a returning master. When he started rifling through his pockets, you half expected him to pull out another pistol. But as his hand came back back into view, he was holding something else.

“Wait.” He said, reaching out a hand to stop Nikolai from going anywhere. “Got a job to finish first.”

It was the laser designator. His free hand went to the radio.

“Graves?” Soap asked, cocking his head to hear better. “Still got that shot ready?”

A second passed.

“Ready and waiting, Sergeant.” Graves replied.

Soap’s hand tightened around the designator.

“Taking the shot from ground level.”

Click!

With bated breath, you waited. Waited and watched. First came the rumble, the roar of the Shadow’s approach. The sound grew until you couldn’t hear anything else, until the wind nearly knocked over and a black shape zoomed across the sky.

BOOM!

The remaining silo burst, exploding with blue flame. Once again, globules of sizzling chems were launched into the air. One of them landed around a hundred feet away, burning a big hole in the tarmac. The sight spurred you to move, to finally pull your heavy bones onto your feet.

“That… a direct hit!” Graves cheered. “Good job, boys.”

Soap was clearly about to respond, but he stopped himself when the doors of the base suddenly slammed open. KorTac soldiers poured out of it, shots firing wildly into the air.

You scrambled for the pistol strapped to your thigh and took aim. No cover nearby. This had to be quick.

But no shots were fired your way. They weren’t aiming in your direction. Maybe didn’t even know you were there. Their attention was focused backwards, at something inside the building they had just exited. It was weird. Weird enough to make you hesitate.

A man flew out of the darkened doorway, neck already broken. His limp head hit the floor first, a right angle from his neck. Pretty gruesome, even for the battlefield. Then, a knife flew out of the abyss, hitting one of the soldiers in the back of the head.  He knocked over the guy in front of him when he fell.

You saw König first. He was carrying one of them by the scruff of his tac vest, using him as a shield. All fire pointed in his direction. He ducked.

Ghost suddenly dove over him, guns already trained of the remaining soldiers. A quick spray took out two. König jumped back up, throwing the limp soldier he’d been carrying onto his comrade. The guy underneath struggled for a moment. König shot him through his dead friend’s face. One last guy remained, his gun shaking as he pointed it over at König. Ghost reached over König’s back to shoot him in the throat.

Once the soldiers were down, they seemed to spot you at the same time. König was the first to break into a run, the two of them rushing to close the distance.

“Private!” König called, his breathing heavy as he pulled you into a very tight hug. “Geht es dir gut? Are you broken?”

“I’m alright, König.” You smiled, your voice a little strained from how hard he was squeezing you. “Soap told you that already.”

“Oh, I know.” König gave you a squeeze so hard you thought he might accidentally break a rib. “But I worried all the same.”

Ghost was close by. Over König’s shoulder, you could see him eyeing up the wreckage of the helo, still burning in the distance. When he caught you looking, he reached a hand out to ruffle your hair.

“Nice to see you in one piece.” Ghost remarked. “Don’t ever fucking do that again.”

That made you chuckle. As if you had any possible control over what just happened. König finally released you, allowing you to lean around him to nod at your commanding officer.

“Yes sir.” You sighed, giving him a mocking salute. “I’ll try not to get shot down again.”

“Oh aye, I’m alright too, guys.” Soap suddenly huffed. “Nice to see you care so much.”

Ghost barked out a laugh. It was a little strange to see, on a mission. He clapped a hand on Soap’s shoulder. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Johnny.”

Soap held a hand over his face, increasing the dramatics ten-fold. “Oh sir, I don’t think I’ll ever get over it!”

You rolled your eyes, just watching them. Moments of calm on such high stakes missions weren’t usually encouraged, but fuck it, you weren’t complaining. You nearly died five minutes ago.

The action was still happening. That was obvious. The far away pops of gunfire were slightly louder now that you were on the ground, only serving to remind you further of your predicament. Price and Gaz and everyone else were still fighting for their lives.

“You should be thanking me.” Soap said, puffing his chest out a little. “I grabbed the parachute.”

“They have Valeria.” Nikolai suddenly announced. “It is time to go.”

Suddenly, Ghost straightened. It was like a switch got turned in his brain. He let go of Soap almost instantly, taking a few steps back. His hands clapped together as his eyes scoured your new makeshift little unit.

“Alright. Three of us are working with just a pistol.” Ghost noted, his eyes flicking around as his tactical brain clearly kicked into gear. “König and I still have our rifles. I’ll take point.”

After that, you expected him to start making a move, but he didn’t. He lingered for a second, eyes glancing towards you for the briefest of moments.

“König.” Ghost continued. “You take the rear. Watch our backs.”

The two of them seemed to pause for a moment, sharing a look. Their eyes were completely unreadable, expressions hidden from the world. König gave you a pat on the shoulder as he moved, getting into position.

“Affirmative, Lieutenant.” He replied, reloading his rifle. “Lead the way.”

“Okay.” Ghost started walking back towards the building. Soap and Nikolai were right on his heels, like two eager puppies. “Stick together. Don’t be a hero. Guns up.”

With that, and a rough kick to get one of the fallen KorTac soldiers out of the way, Ghost led the four of you back into the rear entrance of KorTac’s main building.

The air was quiet. Still. The corridors were dark, lit only by the flashing red lights of the alarms. Upon seeing the inside, it was clearer than ever that this wasn’t KorTac’s main base. Everything had a slight touch of the underfunded – the floors were a little dirty, the black paint on the walls was peeling at the corners, and the ceiling tiles were covered in a light smattering of mould. Open doors revealed messy, unkept rooms beyond. Tables were covered in papers, holding computers at least ten years old.

No sign of any trouble yet. Obviously, Ghost and König had cleared a path to get here. Since the main action was still focused right at the front entrance, it was entirely possible that there was no one left back here to even notice your presence.

“Moving to exfil with Nikolai, and Bravos 7-1, -2, and -3.” Ghost announced, holding a hand to his radio. You didn’t hear the response, but he waited for a second, paused, and then nodded before carrying on moving.

You followed along through countless hallways, each one just as long and drab as the next. Though Soap had told them not to come, it was definitely a relief that Ghost and König fought their way over to you. Without them, you wouldn’t have a hope in hell of navigating this place.

Did he know that? Was that why he rushed over to you so fast?

“Approaching danger. The heat isn’t far away from here.” Ghost said, keeping his voice low. “König?”

A slight rustling sounded behind you. König was still diligently sweeping his gun from left to right, taking his position very seriously.

“Yes, sir?”

“Stay alert.”

“Affirmative.”

… Huh.

No arguments, no mistrust, no backtalk. Not even a snide remark. Who were these men, and what had they done with Ghost and König?

The more you paid attention to it, to the change in their demeanours, the more obvious it became. When Ghost checked left, König had his eyes on the right. Every time your little unit went through a door, or turned a corner, they would nod to each other first. Had Price’s punishment really been so that effective so soon? Was one admin thrash really all it took for them to get along? Surely not.

Sounds of gunfire were much louder now. More pertinent, though, was the stench. The closer you got to the main action, the thicker it became. Sickly sweet and rotten at the same time, all of it wafting chokingly up your nose.

bang bang! bang bang baNG BANG BANG!

A group of soldiers burst out of a nearby doorway. Every gun in the room raised at the same time. No one moved. Until –

“‘Bout time.” Gaz remarked, clapping a hand on Ghost’s shoulder. “We’ve been waiting for you, slow pokes.”

“We got waylaid.” Ghost replied, nodding towards you, Soap, and Nikolai. “Ready to head to exfil?”

Gaz nodded. “Cap went ahead. We’re last ones left.”

If you were the last to leave, that meant Alejandro and Rodolfo must have already gotten Valeria to the exfil point. And Soap had destroyed both of the silos. There was only one last objective before the mission could be considered a complete success.

“Charges are set.” Ghost said. “Let’s get out of here.”

Chapter Text

It wasn’t until the charges were detonated, till the KorTac processing plant went up in flames, that the mission truly felt like a success. Soap was leaning around you to watch it, the vague stench of his sweat wafting into your nostrils as he craned forwards to get a better view out of the small window at the back of the van. Usually, it would bother you. Right now, it felt grounding. Kept you firmly in reality.

The experience in the helo left your legs feeling like jelly. That had been close. Way too fucking close. Every time you closed your eyes, you were still there - twisting and rolling weightlessly as a cloud of smoke stung your eyes and burned your throat.

“Laswell. This is Bravo-6.” Price was still on the radio, coordinating the mass retreat. “We are RTB.”

The conversation was helpful. It brought you back into the present, gave you something else to focus on except the quickly impending demise that kept playing on repeat in your head. This was normal. Normal was good.

“Copy that, John.” She replied. A warmth bled into her tone that you hadn’t heard before. “Good job, everyone.”

“Aye.” Soap felt like he might bounce right out of his seat, the endless energy he had still rolling off him in waves. How the fuck did he have any left? It felt like your life force was actively draining out of your boots. “We fuckin’ smashed it.”

He finally took his eyes off the now-fading smoke cloud that used to be a building, casting an eye around the cramped vehicle you’d all piled into. Military transport was designed for practicality, not comfort. All this one had in the back were two metal benches, facing each other. Sets of harnesses were fastened to the wall in lieu of seatbelts. Yours was just a touch too big, no matter how hard you tugged on the straps.

“‘Smashed’ is the right word.” Gaz grinned, shaking his head. “You guys fucked that helo.”

He was being jovial, obviously, but it did partially feel like your fault. You’d seen the guy with the launcher break out of the crowd. Had you been faster, you might’ve been able to get him before he’d fired that rocket.

Soap clearly didn’t share your guilt.

“Fuck the helo.” He clapped a hand on your shoulder, shaking you a little. “We’re alive!”

“Yeah.” Ghost suddenly said, the whites of his mask illuminated in the low light. “Despite your best efforts.”

That was the first time he’d spoken. Now that all of the adrenaline was wearing off, you were coming to your senses. Flashes of his eyes, crazed with pleasure and possession, ran riot through your head. You hadn’t properly spoken to him since everything went down last night. There just hadn’t been the time. Now you were sat opposite him, in front of everyone else, pretending that nothing was out of the ordinary.

“Ah, you were worried about us, L.T.” Soap was cleared unbothered by the gruff tone of his voice, reaching forwards to playfully slap Ghost’s knee. Ghost noticeably retracted his leg. “Why else would you come runnin’ like that?”

Ghost folded his arms, cocking an eyebrow at Soap. “Bodies are easier to transport when they can still walk.”

Soap looked unhappy, like he was just about to make a retort, but he was cut off as Price slapped a hand to his radio.

“Graves!” He barked. “Give me a sit rep.”

It took less than a second for the familiar drawl of Graves’ American twang to crackle in your broken headset.

“We are RTB, Cap… and out.” He replied. Price nodded, rubbing a hand across his jaw.

“Rog’. Over and out.”

You reached up and switched your radio off. There was no point staying on comms now – the mission was over, and you couldn’t hear half the commands anyway. Your fellow troops seemed to share the same sentiment. In a way, it felt like a relief. That was it. You’d done it.

Mission accomplished.

After so much stress and failure, it did feel damn good. You’d been blown up by an anti-personnel mine, you’d watched a full tanker of chems speed off into the distance, and you’d walked right into a KorTac trap and come away with little more than a graze. Hell, what you’d just been through out-trumped it all. You’re nearly fallen to your fucking death.

And here you were. Sat amongst your friends. Heading home, basking in the win.

Conversation around you kept flowing. It felt good to watch them talk. Nearly losing them tended to have that effect, you supposed.

“My shoulder hurts.” Gaz was whining, rubbing his shoulder. “I’ll need medical.”

“Shouldn’t have tried to be Mr. Brave then, huh?” Soap retorted.

“I think one of the rookies actually shat his pants.” Gaz sighed, shaking his head. “It stank.”

That drew a chuckle from Soap, who was clearly unbothered by the implication of the incident.

“You sure that wasn’t just you?”

“Fuck off, MacTavish.”

“I buy you a lynx gift set for Christmas every year, and I never see you use it.”

It was then that Price leant forwards, brows furrowed together. “Okay, lads. Let’s keep our heads.”

That shut them up for a moment. The silence was palpable. He was clearly mulling something over, the cogs in his mind spinning furiously.

“It’s a bad sign, that.” He said, somewhat cryptically. Across the vehicle, at the end closest to the doors of the van, König seemed to perk up. He nodded along with your captain, eyes invisible in the low light.

“Affirmative.” He agreed, quietly. “They have found the right dosage.”

The sudden change of tone was a little jarring, but it didn’t take long to realise they were talking about the chem-powered jugg. It made your mind wander, your analytical brain kicking into gear. The video of the experiments KorTac were performing had shown the effects of ‘triple the level of control.’ Part of you couldn’t help but wonder what that jugg had been running at. Was it more, or less? Quadruple the level of control? Only double? Did KorTac want their soldiers more crazed, or easier to control?

“Hey.” Soap leg bumped into yours, a little touch to pull you back into the van. “You’re quiet, lass. You good?”

You gave him a nod, taking in a deep breath. The air of conversation was far too jovial for you to give him any sort of real reaction. It would ruin the mood.

“Fine, fine.” You sighed, stretching your legs out a little. “Just tired.”

Soap nodded along with you, quietly. There was something soft in his eyes, a depth of understanding he didn’t often show.

“Aye, too right.” He gave you a little smile. “Am sure if Alejandro and Rodolfo were here, they’d sing your praises.”

“I can take you to medical, Private.” König chimed in, casting a warm look over at you. You met his eyes, drawing a convincing smile to your face.

“Thanks, König.”

“Unnecessary.” Ghost huffed. “We’re all goin’ to medical.”

“Yeah.” Gaz chuckled in response, jokingly offended. “Where’s my special escort?”

That was when Price finally chimed in, holding his hands out to placate the lot of you. All eyes turned, watching and waiting for the captain to say his piece.

“Alright, alright. I’ve already paged Lydia.” He said, before leaning back and tugging his hat down a little, so that it cast a shadow over his eyes. “We’ve got a couple hours journey back. You’ll all have to survive until then.”

It continued like that. Someone would make a comment about the mission, someone else would make a cheeky comment in return, and Price would occasionally chime in to keep the peace. You were more than willing to let yourself fade into the background, your mind talking louder than anyone in the vehicle could. It took a long time before you even vaguely started to feel normal again and by then, you were almost back at base.

-

Your routine felt hollow. After every mission, it was always the same – straight to medical, allowing yourself to get checked over and your wounds to be patched up. After that, you headed to the armoury, to check your tactical gear back in. Then, to the showers, washing off all of the dirt and blood from the day’s work. Finally, to dinner, for a much-needed refuelling. Usually, it felt like a comfort. It was a barrier of separation between work mode and leisure time.

Tonight, it felt… off. It was almost as if you were watching yourself do it all, like the main character of a video game. Someone else had the controls, and you were just making the motions.

Was there a version of yourself in a parallel universe that didn’t get to do this routine? A version where Soap didn’t get to you in time, where you crashed and burned along with that fucking helicopter? A version where instead of laughing and joking at dinner, your squad was solemn, and missing two members?

It didn’t feel real. The warm water of the shower ran down your skin, but it didn’t relieve the ache. The food on your plate got chewed and swallowed, but it didn’t feel like you’d eaten.

The others were gathering in the common room after dinner. Soap and Gaz had gotten into a stupid argument about who was the best at table tennis, and that had set the rest of them off. It was one of the only recreational activities on base, sat alongside table football and a half-full bookshelf in the common room.

It had been a while since you’d even thought about the common room, never mind gone in it. Like most things in your life, there just hadn’t been the time. Usually, the only activity anyone used it for was sitting on the sofas and armchairs to pre-drink for a night out, or watching movies on the big TV. You’d tried to check out the books a couple of times, but most were just old manuals for various pieces of equipment or software, or old dog-eared comic book annuals from the seventies.

They’d all accepted it without question when you excused yourself, stepping outside for a cigarette. Price was too busy to join you - he was getting his ear talked off by Soap, who was intent on throwing a party to celebrate the big win. That you left you alone to smoke, to go through yet another routine. Pulling out your pouch of tobacco, the filters, the rolling papers. Lining it all up inside and then tucking in the edge of the paper, tightening it up into a roll. Licking the sticky bit. Sticking it down.

Just more movements for your puppet hands to make. Watching your fingers dance through the motions, a completed cigarette now in hand.

But… no lighter.

Every single thing you’d done since you’d gotten back had gone perfectly to plan, allowing you to lose yourself in the monotony of it. Until now.

No lighter in your pocket meant that it was probably back in your room. Retrieving it would entail getting up and walking all the way back there. Giving up meant going back into the common room without smoking at all.

Both felt impossible. Moving was a monumental task that your legs refused to undertake. And so… you sat. Specifically, on a low wall just outside the fire exit door from the common room. The lads would use it to pop out for a smoke so often that Price had had it begrudgingly disconnected from the sprinkler system, and an alarm installed on the wall nearby instead. The large windows made for an excellent view inside, allowing for an entertaining view of Soap goading Gaz as they set up the first round of table tennis.

“Typically, people smoke cigarettes.” A gruff voice suddenly said. “Not keep ‘em company.”

You turned to see Ghost sitting down next to you. Like everyone else, he’d changed out of his tactical gear, leaving him in the same hoodie-and-balaclava combo he often wore after hours. After the initial shock of seeing him appear out of nowhere, right as you were alone, you gave a half-hearted chuckle at his statement. You took the cig out of your mouth, defeatedly inspecting it.

“Came out for a smoke. Forgot my bloody lighter.” You explained, rolling your eyes. “What a numpty.”

Ghost didn’t share in your awkward attempt at humour. The pause was hard to endure.

“Then what?” He asked, glancing between you, and the room full of people you were sat just outside. “You just… sat here?”

There was no point lying to him. What explanation did you have? “… Yeah.”

“Hmph.”

Ghost shifted onto one hip, leaning away from you for a moment to allow him to jam his hand into his pocket. It only took a second of his digging around before he held something out in front of your face.

“Here.” He said, shaking the lighter at you. “Take it.”

That you did. You put the cigarette back into your mouth and flicked at the flint, sparking the lighter to life. The warm glow of the flame was invitingly familiar. The hot burn of the draw, even more so.

You tried to give him the lighter back, but he waved a hand at you dismissively, pulling out another to light his own cigarette. It went into your pocket, instead. Maybe you could add it to the growing collection of his possessions you were acquiring – first his t-shirt, then his scarf, and now a lighter.

The two of you sat there for a while, smoking in silence. Inside the common room, the first round of table tennis had already started. Soap and Gaz were furiously batting the ball back and forth. It might’ve been the most focused you’d ever seen Soap. His eyes were trained on Gaz, the ball, and nothing else. Alejandro, Rodolfo, and König had gathered around, watching them play.

“How does he do it?” You suddenly asked, frustration colouring your tone. “He nearly died today too. Why isn’t he… bothered?”

Ghost followed your eyes until he saw Soap. If it weren’t for the fact that he’d pulled his balaclava up to smoke, you would’ve missed the wry smile that tugged at his lips.

“He’s always been like this.” Ghost shrugged. “The boy has endless energy. Gotta burn it off somehow.”

“I should be in there. Laughing and joking.” You lamented. “Not out here, feeling sorry for myself.”

You expected Ghost to agree with you. To make some snarky comment about you whining too much. It was a surprise when he didn’t, when instead he placed a gentle hand on your knee, and shook his head.

“No.” He said, firmly. “You deal how you need to. That’s what he’s doing.”

You watched the happy scene inside, feeling Ghost’s words warp and twist inside you. It felt depressingly accurate. Soap had more experience than you. He could just brush these things off, go about his day like normal. You were different, weaker. All of that fear couldn’t just bounce off, like water off a duck’s back. It clung to you like old smoke smell.

You didn’t realise that Ghost was still watching you until he spoke again.

“He gets his energy from other people.” He continued, nodding at Soap. The man in question was currently losing, judging by the determined, agitated expression on his face. “Feels like he sucks the life out of me, sometimes.”

You nodded along with him, letting him chuckle at his own joke. Taking a drag of your cig allowed you to avoid saying anything in return.

“But… that’s Soap.” Ghost finished, jaw clenching as he took a draw of his own. He blew the smoke up into the air. “That’s what he needs.”

It was almost funny. There was a room full of your comrades right there, all of which were willing and able to spend time with you. And yet, you had never felt more isolated.

“What do I need?” You asked.

“I don’t know.” Ghost said, voice flat. “You tell me.”

That made you roll your eyes, shaking your head a little. Suddenly, it felt ridiculous that you’d even asked, that for a second you’d believed a man like Ghost was going to give you all the answers. This was so typical of him - to start talking like he was going make a revelation, before falling cryptically silent at the last moment.

“Alright.” You shook your head, angrily tapping ash off the end of your cigarette.

“What?” Ghost asked. “I meant it. Tell me what you need.”

“Oh.”

Well, that was unexpected. Only one thing came to mind.

“A hug.” You sighed. “I need a hug.”

“Hmph. Could’ve guessed that.” Ghost huffed as if he was annoyed, but the way he turned to you and held his arms out wide told a different story. “C’mere.”

The warmth of his embrace wrapped around you like the smell of a home-cooked meal. You slipped your arms around his neck, his hands enclosing on your waist. He smelt the same as always – sandalwood, and a certain masculine musk that could only be the hint of recently applied aftershave. It was so comforting. This was the first contact the two of you had had since the moment of raw sexuality in the smoking shelter last night. Unlike then, this was soft. Gentle.

Every part of you wanted to keep holding on, to lose yourself in it a little longer, but he pulled away first. A gentle tap on the shoulder, a nod, and the two of you were separated once more.

“That was nice.”

Ghost sniffed. For a moment, it seemed like he might leave that statement hanging in the air. It took a while before he nodded, mumbling a begrudging, “… yeah.”

There was another version of you that didn’t get to have that hug. That never got to hug anyone ever again. Never got to see Ghost again.

“What else?” Ghost asked. You blinked, looking him up and down.

A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth.

“A kiss?”

Ghost scoffed. “You’re gettin’ too bold.”

“Is that a no?”

“That’s a fuck no.” He gestured to the common room, to all your comrades, just a thin sheet of glass away. “You crazy?”

Inside, Gaz had his hands in the air, whooping and jeering. König was giving Soap a consolation pat on the back. As if to punctuate Ghost’s point, Soap spotted the pair of you, and petulantly held up his middle finger.

“Alright.” The sting of being rejected was eased by the chuckle that bubbled up inside you.

But the laughter caught you off guard, and as you did, smoke from the cigarette got sucked down your throat. For a few moments, you couldn’t breathe, choking on the smoke and –

BOOM!

The blast is deafening. Light flashes, blinding you for a moment, before thick black smoke begins to fill the cabin. Every window and windshield shatters, spraying you and Soap in shards.

The whole helicopter lurches. An awful, uncanny groaning sound echoes through the craft as one of the propellers fails, and the whole thing starts to fall.

It’s almost like being on a rollercoaster. As the helicopter begins to drop out of the sky, it spins faster and faster. You feel almost weightless, inertia causing your body to slowly lift into the air. Good thing you’re strapped into your seat. Your hands just about touch the ceiling when the spinning throws you aside, tossing you into Soap.

“We’ve been hit!” Soap screams. “Goin’ down!”

“Private!” Ghost is calling into your radio, urgency in his voice. You’re never going to see him again. This is it. You’re going to die in this helicopter. “Private! You good?”

The smoke is filling your lungs, choking and thick. Like black tar has just been poured down your throat and you’re downing in it. Your eyes scramble to find the window, to spot Soap in the madness, but all you can see is clouds upon clouds of smoke.

“Hey!”

A hand suddenly clapped onto your shoulder, the contact drawing you back into the present.

It felt like reality slapped you in the face. You took in a sharp breath as your consciousness was dragged kicking and screaming back into the present. Without even a second thought, the cigarette flew out of your hand, sparks flying as it skittered across the ground.

“Just breathe.” Ghost was still talking, his voice the only thing keeping you back in reality. “Breathe in for five.”

You did as he said, sucking in air slowly this time, counting to five in your head. He nodded along with you, counting it along with his fingers.

“Now.” He said, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Hold for five.”

This was a classic breathing exercise, designed to help someone in crisis. You knew that from your education. Was that what was happening? Were you in criss?

He was watching you intently. “Release for five.”

Letting the breathe slowly out of your lungs felt good. Focusing on your body was good. There was nothing wrong with you. The helo got shot down, but you didn’t. You were fine. Absolutely fine.

Ghost was staring down at you, frowning in concern. “You good?”

“Shit.” You cursed, shaking your head. What the fuck just happened? That had played out in your head like a movie you couldn’t switch off. Ghost was still looking at you, expecting an answer. You couldn’t show him weakness. “Hm? Oh, yeah. I, uh, yeah. I’m fine.”

He was gazing down at you with scrutiny, not buying it for a second. After what felt like forever, he pulled out his phone, tapped on it for a few seconds, before handing it over.

… Tetris.

He had pulled up a game of Tetris on his phone.

You turned to him, perplexed. “What are you – ”

“Play.” He commanded. His hand reached out, jabbing the screen. “I’ll get you on an action plan in the morning.”

The screen was still in front of you, bright colours flashing over it. The hard case he had on his phone made it feel chunky and big in your hands. It was so practical – just like everything about him – that it made the presence of such a game in his phone even more ridiculous.

“What is happening?” You demanded, offering him the phone so he could take it back. “Why can’t you just talk to me, like a normal person?”

He didn’t take the phone. He took a hold of your wrists, eyes staring deep into yours. His eye black had faded from all the sweat and the contact with his mask, allowing the gentle blonde hairs of his eyebrows to shine through.

“Private.” His voice was soft, now. Soft like the gentle grip he had on you. “I know how it feels. I’ve been through shit I thought I wouldn’t get out of.”

He dropped your hands, pushing the phone back towards you.

“Now play the fucking game.”

You sighed, resisting the urge to petulantly roll your eyes in response. “But… why Tetris?”

A smile tugged at his lips. He threw his cigarette away, pulling his balaclava back down over his jaw.

“Studies have shown it helps with flashbacks.” He explained, somewhat smugly. “Thought you would’ve known that, bein’ the queen of psychology and all.”

You couldn’t exactly argue with that. You wanted to protest that ridiculous title, but you didn’t. Once Ghost had gotten something in his head, there was no getting it out again. If he thought that something might help you, he wouldn’t shut up until you did it. Just like when he decided to stay with you, after König made you cry. There was just no arguing with him.

Whether or not it was helping to reduce future flashbacks, you didn’t know. But it did at least feel good to have something to focus on, to have a facet for your nervous energy that wasn’t worrying or catastrophising.

You’d stacked and cleared five lines of blocks before Ghost nudged you, holding out his hand. At first, you thought he might want his phone back.

“Give me your phone.”

You took your eyes off the screen to shoot him a puzzled look.

“Why?”

“Why d’you think? I’m gonna install Tetris on it.”

Fucking hell. He was obsessed.

But, you obliged him, pulling it out of your pocket without even missing a block placement. The game was distracting enough to keep you preoccupied as he used it. Part of you couldn’t help but notice that despite not having given him your password, he got into it just fine. Not exactly a comforting sight.

Whether it actually took him a few minutes before he was finished, or he was just waiting for you to calm down a little was unclear. But eventually he swapped the devices back, taking the game out of your hands.

“Better?”

“Maybe.”

Ghost let out a breath. “Good enough.”

He stood up then, eyes flicking over to the common room like he was just about to go back in. You hesitated, wanting to hold onto the quiet moment a little longer.

“Wait.” You called. He did, raising an eyebrow at you. “You said you’ve been through bad shit too. What… what was it?”

The question came out before you could stop it. You’d been a part of this Task Force long enough to know not to ask Ghost questions like that. But he’d been so soft, so earnest, that you almost felt like he might answer.

But you were wrong.

Ghost shook his head, dismissively. “‘S not about me. This is about you.”

“But – ”

“Come on, Private.” He nodded towards the common room. Soap was pretending to wank onto the table tennis table. “Don’t you wanna knock him down a peg?”

This time, your smile was accompanied by an actual spark of warmth inside you.

“Alright.” You chuckled. “Let’s go kick his ass.”

Chapter Text

On paper, the next few days were boring. In practice, that ended up being a massive relief. Getting back into a normal routine was exactly what you needed. No missions, no craziness, no drama. Just training, patrols, and briefings. The kind of typical day-to-day life that almost made the base feel like a home away from home.

Well, normal except for your new action plan. Ghost had did exactly what he said he would – gone straight to Price with his concerns, and gotten you signed up for a couple of therapy sessions. The first one had been slow. Though it felt good to get some of the worries off your chest, you couldn’t be honest about everything that was happening. The business with Ghost and König had a massive impact on your job and your life, but you couldn’t possibly spill a word about it.

Regardless, though, having an objective point of view helped. The therapist had cleared you to stay in the field, and given you helpful tips about managing stress and lessening the impact of potential traumatic situations.

But it only took four days for ‘normal’ to get flipped back on its head.

You were on your way to your morning training, when an eerily familiar sight was waiting there to greet you. Price was waiting for you, stood outside the doorway to the gym.  He was leant against the doorframe, arms tightly folded, a small smile on his face.

“Morning, Private.” He said, giving you a nod. “Fancy some fun?”

Déjà vu hit you like a train. Last time this had happened, it had set off a sequence of events that you were still knee-deep in the consequences of. König, and Ghost, and all of the shit in-between. Hesitancy froze you in place, staring at him with wide eyes.

On instinct, you checked your phone. 7:28 AM.

Just like last time.

Weird.

“Define ‘fun’, sir.” You countered, cautiously.

Price chuckled.

“Come on.” He said, nodding towards the exit. “You’ll like it.”

It was never an offer. You didn’t have a choice. He was disguising a command as playful banter and in reality, whatever he wanted you to do was clearly going to take precedence over something as mundane as morning training.

Price led you down the corridor and, unlike last time, out of the building altogether. The chilly breeze out here was bracing. If you’d have known he was going to take you out, you would’ve grabbed your jacket. Since when did he have such a penchant for being so bloody cryptic?

There were already people out here in droves – squads of soldiers exercising, training with rifles, patrolling the compound. Commanding officers barked orders at snivelling, suffering recruits as they dipped for the millionth press-up. Something about it provided you with a nice sense of anonymity. No need to worry about eyes on you in a crowd of nearly identical soldiers.

You followed Price straight through the compound, and around the back of base. It became obvious when you reached a warehouse with a crowd of people standing around outside that you’d arrived at your destination.

“Captain!” You called, quickening your pace to keep up. He walked right up to Laswell, the two of them exchanging an unreadable look between them. You knew it was Laswell from the photo on her file – though she was a little older now, she had the same sharp features and neatly pinned back blonde hair. Meeting people you’d only spoken to on the radio was always a little weird, but you did your best to remain professional and didn’t bother with pointless formalities that would only waste precious time. “What’s going on?”

That’s when Price turned, mouth pressed into a thin line. His eyes swept over you, sizing you up.

“You ready to get some intel?” He asked, clapping his hands together.

You raised an eyebrow, glancing pointedly between him and Laswell. “… How?”

Laswell stepped towards, thrusting a file into your hands. It was one you’d seen before. The picture of the front was of a very attractive woman, with a sharp jawline and cropped black hair.

Valeria’s file.

“You caused waves when you interrogated König.” Laswell explained, slowly. This was news to you. She cast a side eye at Price. “John is confident that you’ll be able to repeat that performance.”

It was really weird hearing her address Price as John. That was his name, of course, but no one used it. It was like calling Ghost ‘Simon’. It just felt.. wrong. Like it humanised him in a way you weren’t prepared for.

But it wasn’t the time to consider it. The folder in your hands demanded your attention. You knew exactly what was inside. The last few days had been spent learning everything you could about her. This, in your mind, was an inevitability. Price was always going to put you in a room with her. But that didn’t make it any less nerve wracking.

He clapped a hand on your shoulder, somewhat roughly.

“You’ll be great.” He said, voice full of a confidence that you yourself did not possess. At the very least, König had been interested in joining the Task Force. He was not loyal to KorTac when he had come. This was going to be totally different. “Just get in there and build some rapport.”

“This is not official procedure. Normally, this would be handled by John himself, or an interrogation team.” Laswell noted, tiredness keeping her expression flat. “But, this is his operation. The higher-ups are making an exception for him, provided that it ends in results.”

Cool. No pressure, then.

When your eyes met Price’s, amusement filled his features. He reached out to place a hand on your head, ruffling your hair. From anyone else, it would’ve been condescending. From him, it felt more… paternal.

“Don’t give me that look.” He shook his head, hands shoved back into his pockets. “You’ve done it before. Now, you just need to do it again.”

Your attention wandered behind him, to the large warehouse you were all stood outside of. The tall roof certainly didn’t help its imposing nature.

“She’s in there?”

That got a nod. “She is. In a shipping container.”

That, at least, was standard. Rules had been broken to get König into that holding cell. But again, it had been different. He had freely surrendered himself, given up his weapons. He was not a hostage, held against his will. Valeria was. That made her dangerous. Dangerous enough to necessitate isolation.

A ringtone cut through the tension. Laswell straightened up immediately, before pulling her phone out.

“We’ll be with you in a minute, Private.” She said, holding up a finger. She turned to Price. “John?”

“Rog’.” He nodded. One last look and a single wink was all he gave you before they walked off, answering the call.

Without the attention of your Captain and his office-based equivalent, you felt yourself able to relax for a moment, and take in your surroundings properly. They had plastic gazebos set up, with a mini intel outpost being housed out here. This warehouse wasn’t like the others. It was apart from the rest, notably separate from the other buildings that lined the compound.

It was a little strange, though. There were perfectly good computer rooms inside. Why had they moved everything out here?

But, just like always, there was no time to dwell. For a voice called your name, drawing your attention to a familiar face stood nearby.

“Private!” A familiar raspy voice called. “Guten Morgen!”

You walked over to him, the weight of the task ahead making your feet feel a little heavy.

“Morning, König.” You smiled. “Here to watch the show?”

“I am here for moral support.” He beamed, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “And, of course, for my expertise in KorTac’s affairs and previous knowledge of Valeria.”

That made sense. These were all-hands-on-deck circumstances. For the four days that Valeria had been on base, everyone in the squad had been taking turns to come over here and monitor the situation, along with the intelligence team and many, many guards. You had had the least of those shifts – instead, a lot of your time had been allocated to go over Valeria’s history and personality with Alejandro and Rodolfo.

But, regardless of König’s history, or his expertise, the moral support was what you valued most right now. His presence felt so warm. It made you feel sort of guilty for all the times you’d doubted him.

“Thanks.” You nodded. Every bit of you wanted to take his hands in yours, but you couldn’t. Not with all those people around. Maybe Ghost was right – you were getting a little bold. “I think I might need it.”

“You will not.” He assured you. “After all, you managed to speak to me just fine.”

You shook your head. “I was shitting my pants when I spoke to you.”

“I know.” He chuckled. “It was so cute. But you pushed through it and got the task done, no?”

“Is… is that why you gave me that intel? Because you thought I was cute?”

“No.” He was still laughing a little, not taking you seriously. “I gave you that intel and I thought you were cu – ”

“Stop flappin’.” Ghost was at your side out of nowhere, only a few feet away. The shock must have taken a year off your lifespan. He didn’t notice your widened eyes and bewildered expression, or if he did, he didn’t comment on it. “‘S just like bein’ out in the field. You keep a level head and you’ll be fine.”

Part of you wanted to question Ghost as to why he was even here – he wasn’t a former member of KorTac, and he didn’t know Valeria – but the answer was obvious. There probably wasn’t a man on this base that could keep him from being here to watch over you. He felt like a second shadow, at times.

“This is nothing like being out in the field.” You countered, folding your arms. Ghost raised a doubtful eyebrow.

“If anythin’, it’s easier.” He said. “Out there, failure means death.”

It was a fair point – there was no way you might be walking to your death. Valeria would be unharmed and restrained, unable to lay a finger on you.

But that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be consequences, if you didn’t succeed.

“What about the death of my career?” You pointed out.

Ghost rolled his eyes. “If they didn’t kick Soap and Gaz out after Berlin, they won’t do that to you now.”

Price was making his way back over to you. It was time. Ghost placed a hand on your back, gently guiding you along, putting you in motion. The three of you met in the middle, standing just outside the main doors. König was joining Laswell at the intel outpost. Alejandro and Rodolfo were already there, the former of which catching your eye to give a quick thumbs up.

“It’s nearly go time.” Price said, walking you over to the entrance to the warehouse. He stopped just outside, placing a hand on the dirty metal door to steady himself. “Should be obvious that you’re goin’ in alone.”

“I’ll be right outside.” Ghost noted. You jumped, not realising that he was still stood right next to you.

“Jesus.” You gasped, hand clutching your chest. “We need to put a bell on you, or something.”

Something gleamed in his eyes. But whatever the thought was, he didn’t voice it. Price ignored the interaction, slowly pushing the door to the warehouse open. It made an incredibly dramatic creaking sound, the rusted hinges loudly complaining about their use.

The large room was almost completely empty, save for a few guards at the door and the large shipping container in the middle. It had clearly once been a bright green colour, but its age showed through in the fading and cracking of the paint. There were no special markings on the side – any lettering or signage had long since worn or fallen off. It felt almost strange, as if someone as important as Valeria deserved some kind of special housing, something that looked just a little more secure. But that, you knew, was the point. To keep her in discomfort fostered the idea that opening up might lead to better conditions.

The three of you walked up to the doors of the container, no one saying a word. In here, you might be within earshot of her. Those metal walls probably  weren’t soundproof.

They both left your side, slipping out of view of the doorway once it got within your reach. This was it. It was time.

Once the electronic locks had been deactivated, you heaved open the door of the container, pulling with all your might to try and cover how goddamn heavy it was. Inside, the container was dimly lit. Two lamps had been set up in opposite corners of the space, blasting bright light towards the centre. Illuminating the hostage. Illuminating her.

Valeria was sat in a metal chair, her calves fastened securely to the chair legs. Her hands had been tied behind her back, as well as a series of tight ropes around her torso. Clearly, they weren’t taking any chances. The thought that she might have been stuck in this position for four days straight was almost certainly a warning of the potential mood she was in.

Her head snapped up as you entered, eyes fixated upon you. You met them confidently, giving her a quick nod before slowly tugging the door shut behind you.

“Hello.” You began, willing yourself to sound nonchalant. “You’re Valeria, right? My name is – ”

“I know who you are, chica.” Valeria snapped back. “KorTac knows all about your little Task Force.”

… Okay. Good start.

There was a folding plastic chair leant against the wall. You set it up a couple of feet away – close enough to talk, but just far enough to be completely out of reach. She was watching you all the while, taking in your every movement and judging you for it.

In all the pictures you’d seen, she always appeared well-presented and put together. But now, the amount of time she had been kept here was starting to show. Her hair was greasy and unkept, hanging limply around her face in thin strands. Her eyes had large bags underneath them, her skin pallid and unhealthy. The clothes wrapped around her skinny frame were dirty and blood splattered. They must not have let her change since her capture. That had to be uncomfortable, wearing such old and filthy garments.

You knew the task. Build rapport, make her feel like you were the good guy, that talking to you was her best option. You needed to be a friend, a hand reaching out in the darkness for her to take.

“Excellent.” You said, dropping her file obviously onto the floor. “We know each other already. That’s great.”

Valeria remained silent, fixing you with a steely gaze.

No time to waste. The questioning had to start somewhere.

“You’re not really a member of KorTac though, are you?” You probed, leaning forwards in your chair slightly. “From what I hear, you’re quite the… successful businesswoman.”

At that, she scoffed, as if what you had said was completely ridiculous. It almost made you concerned that you hadn’t gotten your facts correct.

“Successful businesswoman.” She repeated, her accent lilting over the words. “Not a drug smuggling criminal?”

Damn. There was no mincing of her words. The brutality of that title was far too aggressive for rapport-building, even if it was the most apt for her. The absolute lack of hesitation hinted that she may have heard that insult many times before. You couldn’t let yourself be categorised the same whoever had said it. You had to remain on her side.

Adjusting your seating position allowed you to lean back, thoughtfully. This cheap, shitty chair wasn’t exactly comfortable. The seat was just slightly too small for your arse, leaving you constantly adjusting your balance. This time when you spoke, you made sure to keep your tone as earnest as possible.

“Your operation is extensive. The Mexican cartel has an iron grip on regions like Las Almas.” You began, carefully. “That requires a lot of planning and organisation. You have to allocate resources, coordinate teams, and make sure goals are met. That sounds like a business to me.”

Valeria shook her head, though the movement was not a dismissal of your thoughts – rather, a quick way of getting a few greasy strands of hair out of her face.

“De que chingado estas hablando? You want a job or something, loca?” She demanded.

“No.” You said. “I’m just noting your achievements.”

Silence was her only answer to that, eyes bearing down upon you with heavy scrutiny. Just like when you had spoken with König, she did not allow her ego to take a hold of her. The compliment fell completely flat, like a deflated balloon at her feet.

Just like König, a new angle was necessary.

“So, how did you get involved with KorTac?” You asked, as if it was the most trivial matter in the world. Like you were just two people at the bar, talking about how they got their jobs. “Europe seems quite far from your sphere of influence.”

“Same reason as any successful businesswoman.” She answered, clearly mocking your previous comment. “Money.”

“Who’s money?” You pressed.

Valeria smirked. “KorTac’s.”

She was leading you around in a circle. That was fine. This was expected. Her intel was her only bargaining chip now, the only thing that still made her useful. You had to keep trying, opening up new avenues of conversation.

But it was whilst you were pausing for thought, formulating your next plan of verbal attack, that she turned the tables on you.

“Is your captain a sexist?”

The question slapped you across the face. It took effort not to let your jaw fall open. “… What?”

She shrugged, gesturing between the two of you like it was obvious. “You are female. They send me the only female in the Task Force.”

Hours of preparation, conversations with Alejandro, extensive lessons on her background – absolutely none of it could prepare you for a line of conversation like this.

The urge to clap back at her, to defend Price, was strong. But you knew that rising to her would only feed into whatever angle she was trying here.

“Let’s stay on topic.” You retorted, folding your arms tightly. “I’m asking the questions, here.”

That only egged her on more. Apparently convinced that she’d struck a nerve, she leant forwards, amusement flickered over her features as she pulled on her wrist bindings just to get a little closer.

“You are not like the other members of your Task Force.” She pointed out, giving your body another long look. It was more than a little disappointing, coming from a woman. Every fucking step you took in this career, you found yourself having to justify your right to be there. It was exhausting. “Maybe they think you are less intimidating?”

“I volunteered.” You snapped back. It was a lie, but anything you could say that might shut that down was going to come right out of your mouth. This wasn’t the plan. She was derailing your interrogation as a deflection. The spotlight had to be turned back on her. “Does it bother you, that I am a woman?”

Your snippy response caused a clear reaction in her eyes, but she didn’t openly comment. Instead, she let herself relax slightly, her bindings relaxing a little once again.

“It bothers them.” Her eyes finally left yours, drifting to the closed doors of the shipping container behind you. “I heard so.”

Whoever she was referring to, it didn’t matter. The two of you were in a conversational chess match now, and you absolutely could not let her get the upper hand.

“I don’t care what you heard.” You said, flatly. “I care that you answer my questions.”

“Oh, you don’t?” The expression on her face was closer to a pout than anything else. “You don’t want to know what the ‘skull face’ said about you?”

Fuck. Of course you did. She was clearly referring to Ghost, and there was probably no easier way to capture your interest than to bring him up.

Not the time. This was not the time.

“No.” You said, firmly. “I want to know who’s paying you.”

“And I want to know how a little rata like you survives in 141.” She replied, clearly not bothered by your tone in the slightest. “They must have to protect you a lot.”

“I’m a trained soldier.” You replied, feeling your chest swell with self confidence. “Just like you were. Surely, you know we’re just as good as the men?”

It felt unlikely that a woman like Valeria was going to have some kind of feminist bonding moment with you. But her dismissal of your abilities based on nothing but your gender was enough to rile you up a little anyway, to make your shoulders square up and the hairs on the back of your neck bristle. You were rising to her, sure, but on principle you couldn’t just back away from this.

“Is that what you think?” She snarled, contempt in her eyes. “You think that you, and a man like König, are equals in war? That you could beat him in a fight?”

That was a bit of a left turn. It felt strange that she would suddenly bring König into this. It made you wary of the position you were in – she was just using whatever ammunition she had to try and get to you, and it was working. You couldn’t let her keep making you react.

“I don’t want to fight him, nor do I need to.” You answered. “König is my – ”

For a single second, you paused. The right word didn’t come to you immediately. How could you even concisely describe the relationship between you? Lover? Comrade? Coworker?

“… Friend.” You finally finished, trying to play off the hesitation. “He’s my friend. I don’t fight my friends.”

All the while that your brain churned and your mouth remained silent, Valeria was watching you. Her expression was almost completely blank, save for the clear and obvious light in her eyes. That had captured her attention. Fuck.

“But he is so big.” She said, tilting her head curiously. “Such a big, muscular man, no?”

Images of König flashed through your mind’s eye. How you’d felt that very first time in Price’s office, your heart pounding as he stood and rose to full height. Being stuck in the closet with him, and still only reaching chest-height. How easily he could just pick you up whilst sparring.

But was that really her point? Was Valeria only pointing this out to make you feel weak? Because that seemed like an awfully basic tactic. She was not the first person to try and make you feel small, and she would most certainly not be the last. It was almost disappointing that she held no greater ace up her sleeve.

“Sure.” You sighed, shaking your head. “He’s tall. Can we move on?”

“You like a man like that, soldado?” She had a glint in her eye now, like a shark eyeing up her prey. “A strong, mysterious tachón like König?”

Oh, no.

Your throat went dry, your organs dropping into your boots. Absolutely not. She was taking a hold of the conversation now, grabbing the reigns and galloping into the sunset with it.

“No.” You responded, far too quickly. “I’m a professional.”

“Ah.” Valeria had a look of disappointment on her face that was completely unconvincing. The amusement was still too obvious for the expression to appear genuine. She leaned back, casually stretching her neck from side to side. “That is probably for the best. You could not handle a man like that.”

You were about to cut in, to try and steer the conversation back within the realm of your control, when she laughed, and spoke again. “I barely could.”

… What?

König and Valeria had met, in passing. That much was true. König had been very forthcoming about it, detailing occasions where she had visited KorTac HQ, or had exchanged resources with the cartel.

But that was not what Valeria was implying. She was implying something… much more intimate. And it didn’t fucking feel good.

She was playing you. You knew that. She was a rat in a cage, desperately trying to gnaw through the bars with whatever resources she could. You couldn’t let yourself fall for silly mind games.

“Did König get you in touch with KorTac?” You asked, clearly trying to ignore what she just said. That was the only way you knew to proceed. “Is that it?”

“No, he did not get me in touch with KorTac.” Valeria replied, grinning at you like a Cheshire Cat. “But he did get in touch with me. He is an excellent lover. Rough, and possessive.”

She was lying. Of course she was lying. She was lying through her teeth because she knew it got to you.

But the image of her coiled around König, lips pressed to his, his hands running through her hair…

Fuck, it stung. It stung so bad you had to take a breath before you could even speak.

“I don’t care about your past affairs, Valeria.” You told her, fighting to keep a hold of your nerve now. “I want you to answer my goddamn questions.”

“You don’t have questions about that?” She asked. “How big he really is? What his body looks like, under all that gear?”

She let out a laugh. It was a melodic sound.

“You don’t want to know what is under the hood?” Her teeth were glinting in the bright spotlights. “He is so scarred; he barely has a mouth.”

“Okay.” You sighed, feeling relieved. There it was – the clear give away that told you what you already knew. It wasn’t true. “Now you’re just making stuff up.”

“Maybe.” Valeria conceded. “But how do you know that?”

Oh, shit.

“We sit together in the mess hall.” You insisted, the excuse coming to mind surprisingly easily. “I’ve seen him eat.”

She didn’t buy it for a moment. “And you watch him carefully, do you, soldado?”

Stress was driving you to act, to keep talking, keep denying. This was not information the enemy should know. How was she so damn perceptive? You hadn’t said anything, and yet she was reading you like a book.

“This is not about me.” You told her, agitation bleeding into your voice. “I need you to tell me – ”

“Does the skull face know about the two of you?” She interrupted, absolutely refusing to let you get back in charge.

“There’s nothing to know!” You insisted, furiously. “There is no ‘us.’ We are friends.”

“Friends that kiss?”

“No.”

All of a sudden, a loud knock sounded out, reverberating around the metal walls of the shipping container. The both of you stiffened on instinct, as if some unknown enemy was about to burst in. But when your body calmed, and you came to your senses, your brain gained rationality again. It could only be Ghost, checking that you were alright.

You leaned over, giving him two sharp raps in return. A signal to tell him to back off. If he swooped in now, it would forever undermine your authority in Valeria’s eyes. The control you were so desperate for would fly permanently out of reach.

But, judging by Valeria’s expression, it already had.

“Is that him?” She asked, an innocent look plastered all over her face. God, you wanted to slap it right off.

“That’s Ghost, yes.” You affirmed, through gritted teeth.

Her eyes wandered behind you, finally directing her piercing gaze elsewhere. Though, as relieving as that felt, it was extremely short lived. Ghost had interrupted at what might be the worst possible moment for it. When she finally turned her attention back towards you, she was grinning like she’d just won a prize.

“He worries about you.”

You shook your head. “He’s a control freak.”

“He checks up on the other soldados like this?” She probed. “Does he talk to the captain about them, too?”

Her posture was completely different now to when you’d originally entered. Though her bindings were still securing her tightly to the chair, allowing for a minimal range of movement, the contrast was still stark. Her chin was held high, shoulders back, legs ever so slightly further apart. She was exuding the confidence she’d leeched from you over the course of this terrible conversation.

This was going from bad to worse.

“I’m sure he does.” You gulped, throat feeling thick with anxiety. The higher ups were watching this. Thankfully, only figuratively, but still. Leaving without tangible results was not an option. “Did you not keep a close eye on your men?”

“My men are at home, chica.” She replied. “KorTac’s men do not need watching.”

Finally, an answer you could work with. KorTac had only recruited her for this – they hadn’t shipped her whole squad across. That was interesting. It told you that they didn’t need the manpower, and they weren’t using Valeria for resources. They only wanted her brain, her expertise. Whoever was paying her had enough soldiers at their disposal already.

Time to turn the tables on her.

“Then what do they need you for?” You quipped, folding your arms.

She raised an eyebrow, as if it was obvious. “Getting a convoy through a blockade.”

A little dig about the failure of that mission. No problem. In the end, she had lost.

“A shame they didn’t hire you to protect a chemical plant.” You retorted, gesturing down to the way she was tied up. “‘Cause you didn’t do that very well.”

She narrowed her eyes at you, lips curled in distaste.

“You have no idea what I can do, perra.”

You tutted, giving her a little shrug. “Sounds like someone’s not getting paid to me.”

“Tell that to the billions of rubles in my bank account.” She snapped. “I have mansions in three continents. So many supercars, I have no more room in my garages. Mierda, I could shoot bullets made of gold if I wanted.”

Rubles.

There it was. Finally. A tangible piece of information you could use. She’d gotten agitated, and slipped up. The surge of elation was extremely hard to mask.

“Gold bullets would be a terrible weapon.” You responded, dryly. “Maybe you should try using real ones next time.”

“Crees que eres muy inteligente. ¿Por qué no vienes aquí y lo dices?” She was ranting in Spanish, and you didn’t need the translation to get the gist. That had pissed her off. “Niña tonta, no sabes nada.”

BANG BANG!

Ghost had knocked again. This time, louder. He wasn’t checking if you were alright anymore. He was telling you to come out. Part of you wondered if he could hear her raising her voice.

It only seemed to set Valeria off more, straining forwards against her bindings. “Go on. Run back to your Lieutenant. Tell him you have been sticking your tongue down König’s throat.”

“I am a professional, Valeria.” You replied, getting to your feet. There was no point resisting Ghost’s call. One more knock, and he was likely to burst in here himself and pull you out. “Maybe your company is different to ours.”

“You’re a fucking prude.” She was leaning so far forwards, the chair looked like it might tip over. The further away from her you moved, the more she seemed to want to fill that space, to remain in your vicinity. “What are you afraid of? Breaking Ghost’s heart? Or letting him break yours?”

Damn. She was scarily accurate with her observations. You didn’t let the shock show on your face, determined not to give any more fuel to her fire.

“Ghost doesn’t have a heart.” You told her, already making your way to the door. She was behind you now, legs of the chair making scuffing sounds as she kept fighting her bindings. “Thank you, Valeria. You’ve been very helpful.”

“Wait!” She called, the anger in her voice fading into sheer desperation. Anything that came out of her mouth right now was only designed to make you stay. It had probably been a very long time since she last had entertainment like this. Were you in her position, you wouldn’t want to face another four days in isolation. Or longer. “I can tell you how to seduce König!”

“Unnecessary.” You said, yanking the door open. The rush of a cold breeze coming in was extremely welcome. Having both of you trapped in there for so long had made the air hot and sweaty. “Goodbye.”

With one last look at her face, at the determination in her eyes, you turned and left.

The door closed behind you with a slam.

And, breathe. Every muscle in your body relaxed at once, your tense shoulders falling a couple of inches. Being out of the range of her intense gaze was certainly a relief.

“Well?” As predicted, Ghost was right next to the door, staring at you intently. He had his arms tightly folded, a single foot tapping the ground impatiently. “Anythin’ good?”

Keeping in mind that she had clearly overheard Ghost speaking outside the container, you nodded towards the warehouse doors.

“Outside.” You replied, quietly. “We have a lot to unpack.”

Chapter Text

Apparently, the higher-ups had been very pleased with your performance. Hints of Russian involvement was clearly big news to them, even if it meant relatively little to you. Though, it did make some previously confusing details make sense – like why you’d overheard KorTac soldiers talking in Russian, after the intel mission went tits up. Plus, it swept that little conversation about König and Ghost under the rug quite nicely. The debriefing for your interrogation had been a triumphant affair, and happily, the last item on your schedule for today.

That was because in the end, Soap had gotten what he wanted. He’d spent the last four days badgering Price relentlessly, and finally, your very tired Captain had begrudgingly given in.

Tonight, SpecGru HQ was hosting a party. Not everyone in base could attend, of course. Several platoons had drawn the short straw and landed themselves guard duty, and patrols. Twice the usual amount, considering Valeria’s presence. That had been Price’s stipulation for his agreement – as long as the base was still fully protected, those who were off duty were allowed a polite drink in the common room to celebrate the big win.

You knew from Soap’s incessant excited chatter that he had quickly turned that “polite drink” into a full-on piss up. Even now, as you were getting ready, you could hear unknown laddish voices in a nearby room pre-drinking. They had been playing music for the last hour, laughing amongst themselves and cracking open cans.

Getting all dressed up felt really good. Soldier work often involved being covered in dirt and grime and blood, your clothing functional, and your appearance plain. Putting on a nice outfit and taking the time to make yourself look good was a welcome break from all of that. Fixing your hair was a task with far lower stakes than facing an enemy. Plus there were far fewer regulations for your hair, when off duty. Finally, you could do whatever you liked with it, leaving it hanging free instead of being scraped back.

It was when you were taking one last look in the mirror that someone knocked on your door. You turned your music off on instinct, calling out a breezy, “It’s open!”

You expected it to be Ghost. After all, if anyone was going to randomly show up whilst you were alone, it was usually him. The sight of a very tall Austrian ducking under your doorframe was a welcome surprise.

“König!” You smiled, giving him a little twirl to show off your outfit. “What do you think? Good enough?”

“Guten Abend, Private.” As his eyes wandered over your frame, they softened. “You look beautiful.”

The compliment was so genuine and unexpected, it made your cheeks turn pink. “Thanks.”

He, too, had dressed up for the occasion. That leather jacket and jeans combo was really doing things for you. Part of you wondered how big the cow had to be to make a jacket his size.

A closer examination of his form made you hesitate, your excited energy dashed for a moment. He was stood awkwardly in the middle of your room, not moving. His arms were pinned tightly to his sides, eyes sweeping around your space. The picture was one of a very uncomfortable man, someone who didn’t know what to do with himself.

“What’s up?” You asked, tilting your head curiously. “You alright? Excited for the party?”

“I guess so.” He nodded, one hand reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “If I am honest… I might be a little nervous.”

It was hard to tell if that was amusing or endearing. Probably a mixture of both. He could storm onto the battlefield under gunfire no problem, but a party was what threw him off? Social anxiety was a cruel mistress.

You gave him a little smile, stepping forwards to take his hand. It was still a novelty to see him without gloves, to be able to take in the veins and tendons under his skin. To learn that he had a long, white scar on his right hand, leading from his outer-most knuckle to the base of his thumb. He let you hold it, his calloused thumb gently rubbing over your fingers.

“Hey.” You said, softly. “No need to stress. You can stick with me all night, if you want.”

That seemed to assure him, his manner brightening somewhat. “You are very kind, Private. I am sure I will be fine.”

“‘Course you will.” You grabbed your purse, checking that your phone and your cigs were still in there. The squad was expecting you at the common room… shit, twelve minutes ago. “Soap will pour enough drinks down your throat that you’ll forget anxiety even exists.”

That made König chuckle. As he stepped aside, letting you move over to your door, there was a knowing, cheeky look in his eyes.

“You are one to talk.” He was at your side when you moved into the corridor, giving you a friendly nudge with his elbow. It connected with your shoulder. “I seem to remember someone having a little too much, last time.”

“There will not be a repeat performance of that.” You sighed, shaking your head. Images flashed through your brain – stumbling out of the car, asking to see König’s underwear, inviting him into your room. He’d almost said yes to that last one. How different would your night have ended then?

If you didn’t already know that there was something happening tonight, it would have been obvious from the state of the corridors. Far more people were walking around in civilian clothing than usual. The sight of rookies in chinos and flannel shirts gave the whole place the same vibe of a uni hall on a Saturday night, only cleaner.

The thumping of heavy bass got louder, the closer the two of you got to the common room. Drill was a choice probably made by Gaz – the music Soap liked was often much bouncier, much more upbeat. There was no way in hell this was Ghost’s choice. You weren’t sure if you’d ever heard him express a liking towards any kind of music. Price, the only other person who could possibly have put it on, would never have turned it up this loud.

It was barely past 8PM, and already, the common room looked vastly different to when you’d last seen it. The rush of hot, sweaty air hit you like a train upon entry, a side effect of the many bodies crammed into the relatively small space. Drinks littered the surfaces. Whoever had set up the music was using the TV to do it, having set YouTube to play music videos on loop. It was a smorgasbord of nearly naked women dancing around rappers decked out in bling. The table football had a large wooden board over it, and on top of that, a makeshift bar. The table tennis table had had its netting taken off, and instead, a game of beer pong was set up. This was where you found Gaz and Soap, both intently focused.

“… but that’s the point of the game.” Gaz was saying as you approached, clearly ticked off by something. “You can’t save them up for later. You gotta drink it now.”

“It hasn’t had enough time in the bucket.” Soap whined in response, eyeing up the half-full cup of beer in his hand. “This shite’s still warm.”

“You better start playing better then.” Gaz was reaching forwards, tapping the bottom of Soap’s cup in an attempt to get him to tilt it higher. “Drink.”

“Yeah, don’t be a sore loser, Soap.” You remarked. Jumping in for a jab was second nature at this point - a side effect of being around the boys for too long.

Soap turned as you spoke, surprise and delight lighting up his face. “Hey! Took you long enough.”

You grinned back at him, nodding your head towards König. “This one came to fetch me first.”

“König! What the hell?” Gaz barked, fake outrage all over his face. “Why’d you never escort me places, man?”

König folded his arms, returning the energy. “I could escort you to the infirmary, Sergeant.”

That drew a surprised reaction out of Soap, who could only look up at the Austrian with respect and amusement.

“You’re stone cold, mate.” He held out his cup, swishing the beer around. “Fancy a drink?”

König leant forwards, eyeing up the cup being offered to him. The distaste was obvious as he straightened back up, eyes sweeping over the wider selection on the makeshift bar.

“What beer is that?” He asked, hesitantly. “I would prefer a Stiegl.”

Gaz and Soap exchanged a short glance.

“It’s whatever the local shop had.” Gaz replied. “We weren’t exactly spoilt for choice.”

“I will take one without a ping pong ball in it.” König decided, stepping towards the bar to fetch himself one. There was a bucket underneath it, filled with ice and cans of beer. In his hand, the can looked tiny, like the little novelty ones you could get in the supermarket for about 40p.

You had to admit, it was a pretty impressive set up. They’d gathered a good range of both spirits and mixers, as well as crates of beer and cider. How that had been achieved, considering the remote placement of the base and the fact that your company was quite literally at war, you didn’t know. Most intriguing were the cups themselves – they were the kind of red plastic numbers you’d see on a TV show. Even in parties back home, no one ever had these.

“You got all this from the local shop?” You asked, unable to hide the reverence in your voice.

“Well… sort of.” Soap grinned, casting a side eye to his opponent. “Gaz is sweet on a girl in the kitchen. She – ”

“Soap!” Gaz snapped. “Enough. Drink.”

Soap shut his trap, reluctantly lifting the cup to his lips so he could gulp down the beer. Gaz was completely unapologetic about his discomfort, reaching up to tilt it higher, forcing the Scotsman to drink faster. You watched with an equal sense of amusement and trepidation – just like when you’d watched Soap be forced to do press-ups after the supply cache mission, it was funny in the moment, but the knowledge that it could easily happen to you dampened that somewhat.

“Come to watch the show?” Ghost was stood at your side, having appeared from seemingly nowhere. You jumped out of your skin, and he placed a hand on your shoulder to steady you. “They’ve been like this for half an hour.”

When Soap finished drinking, he threw the cup to the ground, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Upon seeing Ghost, his eyes narrowed.

“You’re such a miserable bastard, L.T.” He whined, petulantly. He grabbed one of the ping pong balls from the table, offering it out to the stoic man beside you. “Sure you don’t wanna join in?”

Ghost huffed, shaking his head. “I’d rather watch you suffer.”

Soap’s attention wandered to you. Something lit up in his eyes.

“Private! Come on, play. We need a third.” He grinned, eyes quickly flitting between the two big men either side of you. “You’re up for that, right?”

König coughed and spluttered, choking on his drink. Ghost let out a chuckle. Gaz looked completely lost, eyes darting between the lot of you to try and work out what he was missing. You felt your mouth opening and closing, completely unable to form a reaction for a second. Had he lost his goddamn mind?

“… Sure.” You eventually managed; voice strained. The sooner that comment could fade out of everyone’s memory, the better. “Seeing as you’re clearly not good at this.”

“Hey, not fair.” Gaz grumbled, frowning as you stepped up to the table. “That’s two against one.”

“I will join you, Sergeant.” König said. He’d managed to collect himself again, wiping droplets of liquid off his front. “Though, I have not played before.”

As Gaz began to explain the rules of beer pong to König, you took a moment to assess the state of the game. This round must have started recently, because not many drinks had gone yet. Gaz had cleared three of Soap’s cups. Soap had only managed one of Gaz’s.

“Okay.” König was nodding, setting his can aside to toss the ball quickly between his hands. “You must go easy on me.”

“Yeah mate, no pressure.” Soap assured him, steeping back to allow plenty of room. “It’s only a bit of fu – ”

König took his first shot, sending the ball straight into a cup without even bouncing it.

“ – uck.” Soap finished, jaw agape.

König clapped his hands together. “Ja! I like this game.”

“Christ.” Ghost muttered. “Don’t fuck ‘em up too quick.”

Soap was already pushing the cup towards you, clearly rejecting the idea of drinking another so soon. This wasn’t fair. How the hell did König have skill at a game he’d never played?

“That’s all yours, lass.” Soap declared. You frowned.

“I only just joined in!”

“Yeah, and now you’re part of the team. Bottoms up.”

Warm, stale beer would certainly not have been your choice for the first drink of the evening, but here you were. It did not go down with ease, but you managed it. Thankfully, they had clearly not filled the cups with equal amounts of liquid – the one you drank was significantly less full than the cup Soap had been holding when you came in.

A hand roughly patted your back as you bent down to place the cup neatly next to a table leg. Filled with determination, you lined up your shot and took it.

One bounce. Two. Then, the hot rush of victory as the ball plopped into a cup on the other side.

“Oh, ja.” König was nodding appreciatively, already moving to wash the beer down. “Good shot. Let’s play.”

The game continued slowly, at first. Your initial shot was clearly a fluke, because the next couple of turns did not go so well. The only person out of the four of you that seemed to have any skill was König, who was getting a solid shot in roughly every other turn he took. True to his word, Ghost did not join in – instead, he stayed at the sidelines, occasionally piping up with a comment or dry remark.

By the time they had whittled your cups down to the last one, you and Soap still had five of theirs left to clear. Downing around three pints of beer in the space of ten minutes was clearly a bad idea, because you were feeling the effects already. Every time you aimed, you had to close one eye just to focus. Your hand was swaying out of control, your limbs working on a slightly delay to what your brain was telling them.

When the ball bounced off the rim of their front cup and rolled away, König bounded around the table to ruffle your hair patronisingly.

“I thought you were a sniper, Private.” He was laughing, ego already inflated by his winning streak. “Your aim is scheiße.”

You shied away from his touch, fixing your hair back into place with a frown. “I thought you were a gentleman, König.”

“There’s six cups of beer with your names on them.” Gaz grinned, fetching the ball and wiping it on his t-shirt. “Better get ready to drink.”

“This is fucked.” Soap was whining, agitatedly pacing back and forth. “There’s no way this is big man’s first time playin’.”

Gaz took his shot. It sailed clear of the remaining cup, pinging off the side of the table. Soap caught it mid-air. Considering his shots, it was the most impressive feat of athleticism he’d displayed all day.

Soap only took a second to aim, before pinging the ball across the table. It bounced, and flew right into a cup. His arms flew up in the air, excitedly whooping in delight.

“Fuck yes!” Soap cheered, sticking his middle fingers up at Gaz. “Suck my donkey dick, Garrick!”

Gaz practically threw the beer down his throat just so that he could crumple up the cup and chuck it at Soap’s head. When it sailed straight past, Soap laughed, breaking out into a little dance.

“You’re gonna eat shit in a minute, Soap.” Gaz huffed, patting König on the back. “Fuck ‘em up, man.”

“Sorry, Private.” König found your eyes, fidgeting with the ball. “I am not a gentleman.”

With that, he threw it. You and Soap watched with bated breath. It sailed through the air and landed with a crash in the final cup, splashing beer over the table. Gaz cheered. Soap had his head in his hands.

“Get in!” Gaz was punching König’s arm, giddy with the victory. It took him less than a second to grab the cup, thrusting it in Soap’s face. “Here you go, mate. Heard you were thirsty.”

They gathered all five of the remaining cups and started pouring them into each other. Three portions and into one, two in the other. At least Soap was nice enough to take the fuller cup, leaving you with about two thirds of a pint to drink. Not that downing this much beer in one go was going to be easy, of course.

Gaz started the chant before you even had time to complain. “We like to drink with you guys, ‘cause you guys are our mates! And when we drink with you guys…”

He took a brief pause from clapping along to grab your hand, moving the cup up to your mouth.

“You get it down in 8… 7… 6…!”

Soap was already necking his. You joined in, gulping down the stale, lukewarm beer as best you could. It fucking tasted like shit.

Gaz didn’t notice your discomfort, continuing the chant anyway. “5… 4… 3…!”

This was hard. The urge to pause for breath was overwhelming, but you resisted it. Soap was managing fine. The last thing you wanted was to show yourself up.

“2… 1!”

The last dregs were the worst. But, with enough effort, you managed it. A cough and a splutter, and it was down. The look of surprised approval from König almost made the whole thing worth it.

“Private!” He exclaimed, eyes a little wide. “I thought I would have to finish that for you. I am… impressed.”

You gave him a cocky frown, shaking your head. “Come on, König. I’m a big girl. I can face the consequences of my own actions.”

“If that’s what your aim is like, then you’re joining me in the gun range tomorrow.” Ghost suddenly piped up. He’d been stood watching quietly for so long you’d almost forgotten he was there. His position next to the full bottle of whiskey meant he hadn’t moved the whole time. “Lest we all face the consequences.”

“You talk a big game for someone that’s too scared to play.” You remarked, flashing him a teasing grin.

He narrowed his eyes at you, before shaking his head. “Nice try. Won’t work.”

“Come on, L.T.” Soap was at his side already, playfully nudging him with his elbow. “Have a little fun.”

“I am havin’ fun. Havin’ fun watchin’ you lose.”

Soap stuck his bottom lip out, looking like he was about to make another comment, but he was interrupted when the doors of the common room burst open. Quiet fell upon the crowd as everyone seemed to turn at once, locating the source of the disruption.

A middle-aged man – maybe early forties – with light brown hair and a fitted blue shirt came strolling through. He look surprisingly well put together. Like Price and everyone else in this business, he looked well-built for his age, muscular and lean. Behind him were a team of soldiers, dressed all in black.

“Alright, boys.” When he spoke, you realised instantly who it was. You’d heard that voice on the radio. This must be Graves. “Let’s get this party started!”

The soldiers behind him – who were presumably his shadows – disappeared into the crowd, intermingling with the countless people dressed in civvie clothes. When he noticed Gaz and Soap setting up the next game of beer pong, he came bounding over like an excited golden retriever.

“Well, well, well.” He grinned, giving the group a nod. “Lookie what we have here.”

Soap turned to acknowledge him, the two of them clapping their hands together, using it an anchor to pull into a half-hug. It was the kind of bro-handshake you saw all too often around here.

“Alright, Graves.” Gaz greeted him, cracking open a can to start refilling the cups. “You fancy a game of beer pong?”

“If you’re any good, you can join our team.” Soap said. He lowered his voice, one hand pointing a thumb at you, the other going to his face to allow him to fake a whisper for dramatic effect. “‘Cause this one’s shite.”

“Hey!” You folded you arms haughtily. “Fuck off, Mactavish.”

“Any good?” Graves repeated incredulously. “Brother, this was my game during college. Let’s fucking go.”

No way were you about to let yourself get roped into another round. That beer was goddamn nasty. You held your hands up, stepping back to allow Graves to take your place on the team.

“I’ll let you tap in.” You told him. “I need a smoke anyway.”

“Do you want company, Private?” König asked. He made a move to follow you, to leave the table, but Gaz held out a hand and stopped him.

“Hey, no way!” He huffed. “I need your skills, man.”

He looked somewhat unhappy, but the decision was being made for him as Gaz thrust the ball into his hands.

You gave him a gentle smile. “Thanks, König, but I’ll be fine.”

With that, you turned, disappearing into the crowd. The door outside was just ahead, and the cold night air was sure to be a welcome break from the hot, loud atmosphere of the common room.

Chapter Text

Outside the common room was a strange scene. The music playing inside was still audible out here, only muffled slightly. Groups of people were milling about in groups, clouds of smoke – cigarette and vape alike – curling into the sky, as if you were all stood around a bonfire. In contrast to this were the poor soldiers who had drawn the short straw, patrolling the compound behind in full gear.

At first, a quick check of the crowd revealed it to be full of strangers. Since 141’s work was so specialist, the squad ended up being rather insular. It wasn’t often that you spent time around other soldiers. You didn’t recognise any of these faces.

But as you pulled your tobacco pouch out of your pocket, a familiar voice drifted by. Your ears practically perked up with intrigue.

“… not at work right now, John.” Laswell was somewhere near. By the sounds of it, so was Price. “Let’s act like it.”

“Someone has to think about these things.” Price’s gruff voice came in reply. It was somewhere to your left. You turned, ducking through a small group of people. “God knows those muppets won’t.”

Laswell’s tone was far breezier. “They’re having fun. They earned it.”

Finally, you caught sight of them. Price was pursing his lips, tapping his cigar to allow ash to fall to the floor. “Hm. ‘Spose so.”

With no one else around here to talk to, you walked right up to them. Laswell gave you a polite smile as you approached. Price’s eyes drifted to the tobacco pouch and papers in your hands, somewhat disapprovingly.

“You ever gonna have a real smoke, Private?” He asked. His hand went into his breast pocket. “I got a couple spare cigars here.”

You let out a chuckle, shaking your head fervently. “Definitely not. I don’t fancy turning my throat into sandpaper.”

“Don’t listen to him.” Laswell assured you, shaking her head. She had a straight cig in her hand, lipstick smudged on the filter. “He’s a puritan about these things.”

“I never got a chance to properly introduce myself earlier today.” You said, offering a hand for Laswell to shake. “It’s nice to finally put a face to a voice.”

A small smile passed across her face as she took your hand, giving you a surprisingly firm handshake. “Likewise.”

Price was gazing at you fondly. When you met his eyes, he smiled, giving you a couple rough pats on the back.

“You’re the hero of the hour today, Private.” His eyes flicked up, meeting Laswell’s knowingly. “Told you she could do it. She’s a good kid.”

There was something weirdly paternal about the interaction. It felt nice. As military captains went, Price was certainly the nicest you’d had. There was an undeniable warm feeling in your chest, your heart swelling with pride. You’d pleased Captain Dad – uh, Captain Price.

“It wasn’t without difficulty.” You admitted, humility driving you to push the compliment away. “Valeria is an intimidating woman.”

“Not just that.” Price said. “The boys, too.”

You felt yourself frowning, confused by the implication. Laswell was nodding along, making it clear you were the only one being left in the dark here. As you lit your cig, taking the first smoky draw, she added to that sentiment.

“Yes. It’s refreshing to have someone around that can keep them in check.”

Huh? Keeping everyone in line was Ghost’s job. He was the Lieutenant, the one in charge. Not you.

Price must have noticed the look on your face, because he let out a chuckle. His breath smelt of whiskey. “Whatever you said to them must’ve worked.”

“Whatever I said?” You questioned, flicking ash off your cig. This was getting more confusing by the second. “What are you talking about?”

Now it was Price’s turn to look confused.

“Ghost and König?” He clarified. “You must have said somethin’. As soon as that helo got shot down, they were unstoppable.”

Oh.

Oh.

A new kind of feeling bloomed in your chest. This was new information to you.

“The body cam footage is really something.” Laswell agreed, a wry smile on her face. “They were completely pinned and running out of ammo. Then, they get the radio call, and suddenly – ”

“Suddenly, they’re standin’ in a room full of dead bodies.” Price cut in, still smiling. “Bloody marvellous. If we can get them to do that every time, they’d be a real force to be reckoned with.”

You hadn’t spoken to them, but it was startlingly clear that in a way, Price was sort of right. You must have had an effect on them. Just not… intentionally. They had gone from literally being at each others throats in a physical fight to working together as a team in less than twenty-four hours. Suddenly, you were burning with desire to watch that body cam footage. It would probably be very revealing.

But in the interests of keeping your affairs private, you gave him a little smile and a shrug.

“I guess I see your vision, now.” You told him, earnestly. “When you first said you wanted to let a guy from KorTac join us, I thought you were crazy.”

That made Laswell laugh. She pointed a finger at you, the vigorous movement causing ash to fall from the end of her cigarette.

“You’re not the only one.” She remarked, dryly. “General Shepherd nearly burst a blood vessel when he heard.”

“He’s a good lad. KorTac or not.” Price shrugged, unbothered by that statement. “We’re a hell of a lot safer with his intel. We owe him. Big time.”

This was really interesting. To have someone other than Ghost speak about König was incredibly refreshing. Price was pragmatic, his views unsullied by the deep mistrust that seemed to haunt Ghost like a storm cloud. That was why he was the captain, you supposed.

You followed his gaze, glancing inside. From this angle, there was a clear view of the game of beer pong still being played. Graves must have been telling the truth about his skill, because the game looked much more evenly matched. As you looked on, he threw a ball right into a cup in front of Gaz. Soap was delirious with victory, flexing his muscles and bouncing up and down.

König was lining up his next shot. It sparked a warm feeling inside, just watching him at work. “He’s strong. Levelheaded.”

And a great kisser. But Price didn’t need to know that.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get more intel from Valeria.” You suddenly said, casting a sideways glance at your captain. “I’m sure the vague notion of ‘Russian involvement’ probably isn’t much to go on.”

Price’s mouth pressed into a firm line. All of a sudden, his expression looked incredibly grim. “It’s more than enough, believe me.”

“Hey. We’re at a party. Please, no work talk.” Laswell said, shaking her head exasperatedly. “I only just got him to stop.”

Whatever it was that was bothering Price seemed to wash over him like a wave. When he glanced over at Laswell, there was a sense of familiarity in his eyes. Like they’d had this conversation many, many times before.

“The work never stops, Kate.” He chided, mischief in his tone. “You know that.”

“But you do, John. You have to.” She sighed, matching your movements as you took a drag. “You’re a human being. Not a war machine.”

For a moment, Price stayed still, staring at Laswell. He looked as if he was going to keep arguing and make another point, but he didn’t. It took a while before he let out a sigh, his eyes returning to yours. You’d finished your cig now. All that was in your hand was a burnt filter. He seemed to notice, nodding towards a nearby ashtray.

“Go on, Private. You don’t want to spend your night with us old fogies.” He said, with a smile. “Go and have some fun.”

“Hey! Mind who you’re calling old.” Laswell quipped. “Some of us haven’t resigned ourselves to the grave just yet.”

“Alright, alright.” You chuckled. Their banter was golden. Staying here and chatting with them didn’t sound so bad to you, but Price was clearly trying to politely usher you along. “This was fun. I’ll see you guys later.”

They gave you one last nod before you turned and left them be. The ashtray was bolted to the wall next to the door anyway, so it was conveniently en route as you made you way back into the common room.

Just like before, the heat of the air was like passing through an invisible wall. It felt like your hair was stuck to the back of your neck instantly, the humidity causing an instant slick of sweat to creep over your skin. The boys were still near the beer pong table, but they weren’t playing anymore. At this point, their position was likely related to its close proximity to the makeshift bar.

You approached them, a slow smile spreading across your face. But before you could say a word, Ghost turned and thrust a cold plastic cup into your hand.

“Hey, I… uh… what is this?” A closer inspection revealed nothing – the fizzy liquid inside was clear, colourless.

Ghost frowned. “You had a vodka and lemonade last time, right?”

“Uh… yeah.” You said, slowly. “Is that what this is? Did you make me a drink?”

“You took too long out there.” He huffed. “The ice melted.”

It was just a drink. But it wasn’t just a drink. It was a clear sign that he’d been thinking about you whilst you were gone. That he cared enough to do something like that. He added ice. You felt the blush explode over your cheeks.

“Thanks.” You began, trying to quell the grin that threatened to spread from ear to ear. “This is really – ”

“Don’t mention it.” He cut right over you, rejecting your gratitude. “It’s nothin’.”

You took a sip. It was a good mix. Enough vodka to to know it had alcohol in, but not enough to fuck you up. Maybe that was his intention – if he knew how much you were drinking, perhaps he thought he could prevent you from getting too drunk.

It was impossible to tell, because the second the group noticed you, your little moment of privacy was over.

“You’re back!” Soap smiled. “Just in time. Graves is about to eat his words.”

A frown came to your face, knitting your brows together. They must have noticed the confusion in your expression, because the group stepped back a little, allowing you to see what was really happening.

Graves was laying on the floor, on his back. Next to him was a shadow, bent down into a squat.

“They started talking about punishments, for losing beer pong.” Gaz explained, arms folded. “That turned into dares. That turned into Graves betting he could bench press one of his men.”

“Not betting.” Graves said from the floor, rubbing his hands together. “I’m telling you, I can do it.”

“Oh yeah?” Soap nudged him with his foot, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Where I come from, we play eyebrows. Means if you can’t do what you say you can, we take an eyebrow.”

High stakes, then. It was almost impressive that a group like this could get any more boisterous than they already were. But alcohol was a powerful motivator, you supposed.

Graves clapped his hands together, beckoning the shadow closer. “Come on, Johnson. Let’s do this.”

The shadow leant further forwards. Graves took a hold of him, one hand on his chest and the other holding a thigh. The shadow – Johnson – straightened his body out, allowing himself to be lifted into the air.

“This is priceless.” Soap chuckled. For a moment, his attention seemed to wander, noting the absence of your captain. “No pun intended.”

Graves’ arms shook a little, clearly straining with the effort. For a moment, it looked like he might drop him - not out of weakness, but due to a lack of balance. Everyone waited, watching with bated breath. When Graves managed to recover, he slowly lowered the shadow down towards his chest, before raising it again. All the while, he was puffing and panting, his face turning a dark shade of crimson.

“Three reps!” Soap told him, clearly loving every second. “Need to make sure that wasn’t a fluke.”

“Go to hell, MacTavish.”

“Which eyebrow will it be, then? Left, or right?”

That made Graves grit his teeth, determination screwing his features up. It took only a second of heavy breathing before he slowly lowered the shadow down again, arms shaking more than ever before. By the third one, he had droplets of sweat rolling down his forehead.

But once finished, a grin quickly spread across his face. Johnson got down, quickly catching himself by extending his hands and feet to the floor, before getting to his feet. He offered Graves a hand to help him up, but the American was already moving to stand.

“See?”  He demanded, eyes sweeping around the group. “Easy.”

“Didn’t make it look easy.” Gaz goaded. “Looked like you were about to drop the fucker.”

“Soap!” Graves barked, stepping up to the younger man. “Time to do a dare of your own, bucko.”

“That’s not how truth or dare works.” Soap said. “You cannae dare me back. Pick someone else.”

Graves’ lips curled in distaste. It felt like everyone took a small step backwards, eager not to catch his attention. Next to you, Ghost was shaking his head in clear disapproval. You already knew from the night out that he wouldn’t want to get involved in a game like this.

“Why’d you let him drag you into this?” He huffed, knocking back the last of his whiskey. “Why can we never just drink?”

His statement was designed to shut Graves down, but the American only looked intrigued. His attention focused sharply on Ghost, a curious eyebrow raised.

“Matter of pride. I always keep my promises.” He retorted, confidently. “Sounds to me like you’re asking for a dare.”

“Get fucked.” Ghost grumbled. “I’m not doin’ some stupid challenge.”

“You’re so uptight.” Graves’ features were lit up with the spark of amusement. “How about a truth – when was the last time you got laid, brother?”

Oh, god. What a question. Memories ran riot through your brain – out in the smoking shelter, Ghost’s fingers inside you, your hand on his throbbing cock. The delicious grunts of pleasure he elicited when you worked his shaft. The way his hands felt as they glided across your skin.

Ghost narrowed his eyes. “Define gettin’ laid.”

“Aw, come on, L.T.” Soap whined, exasperatedly. “Just answer the bloody question.”

It was at that moment that a sound interrupted the conversation. Voices, cutting over the music. Alejandro and Rodolfo were a few feet away, singing their hearts out in Spanish. Rodolfo had his arm around his compatriot’s shoulders, the two of them swaying unsteadily in rhythm.

Gaz reached for his phone, turning the music up louder to drown them out. Instantly, their heads snapped around to glare at him. The offence was written all over their expressions.

“Hey!” Alejandro grumbled, storming over. “You cannot just – ”

“Alejandro.” Ghost called. “Truth or dare?”

“Qué?”

“You heard. If I have to play this bloody game, so do you.”

Soap stepped forwards, clearly unhappy about the situation. But whatever he was about to say, Ghost silenced it when he held a hand up in his face. The gesture left no room for arguments. For once, Soap actually did what he was told and shut up.

Alejandro clearly forgot about the rudeness that had made him so mad, as he paused to share a glance with Rodolfo. Eventually, he folded his arms.

“Truth.” He replied, cautiously.

Gaz jumped in before anyone else could say a word. “So, Valeria. Any history there?”

Alejandro snapped his head around to stare at him, a deeply suspicious frown furrowing his features. “Sí, hermano. We served together, remember?”

“Not that kind of history.” Gaz grinned.

It clearly took a second for the true meaning of Gaz’s words to set in. But once they did, a deep frown creased Alejandro’s features.

“You let yourself be drawn in by her appearance, you lose.” He declared, gravely. “That’s what she wants.”

Gaz shrugged, unbothered by the gravity in Alejandro’s voice.

“So… no?”

“No.”

That was that, then. For a moment, an awkward silence hung over the group. No one quite knew how to respond to such a firm shutdown of the conversation.

Only, of course, until Soap sidled up to Ghost.

“You can fool the others, L.T., but ye cannae fool me.” He hissed, giving him an obvious side eye. “You never answered your own question. When was the last time you got la – ”

“König!” Ghost barked. The man in question was just returning from the bar, having fetched himself another beer. He stopped in his tracks, tilting his head quizzically.

Ghost nodded towards Soap. “New dare. Shut him up.”

König seemed to sweep his eyes left and right, as if silently asking, ‘how’?

That’s when Gaz stepped forwards, a mischievous grin on his face. “With your mouth!”

König paused. Soap paused. The two of them shared an extended glance.

“You want me to… kiss Soap?” König inquired, still frozen in place. His gaze fell upon you for a moment, before returning to Ghost. “That is what you are asking me?”

Soap shot Ghost a pained glance. “You’re a bawbag, you know that?”

Ghost chuckled, hearty and smug. “Sure, König. If that works.”

There was clearly a heavy sense of hesitation within König, as he turned towards Soap. The shorter man was eyeing him up, reluctantly. Another moment passed. Neither of them moved, yet.

“And this is… ok?” He asked.

Soap shrugged, exasperatedly. “This is the game.”

It was almost funny, watching all of the enthusiasm drain from Soap’s demeanour. He’d started this, and now it was coming back to bite him.

But König straightened up, some form of confidence sweeping over him as he set his beer down on the bar behind him.

“Alright.” He nodded. “Come here, Sergeant.”

Soap barely had time to react before the Austrian was upon him. König took him by the chin and tilted his face upwards, before lifting the bottom of his hood to pressing his lips to his.

Initially, the group cheered. Clearly spurred on by the approval, König gripped Soap tighter, spinning him around to press him firmly against the nearby wall. Soap let out a little squeal, a noise of pure surprise. König grabbed a hold of one of Soap’s thighs, holding it up so that he could press his body closer. Soap’s hands were frantically scrabbling at his back. The cheers became thunderous applause.

When he pulled away, Soap’s eyes were wide, his face flushed. “Jesus! I think I need a Plan B after that.”

König chuckled, folding his arms as his hood fell back down into place. That whole display was… surprisingly hot. Knowing that he was capable of kissing like that was certainly an interesting revelation.

“Damn, König.” You grinned. “Who knew you had that in you?”

Just as fast as it appeared, the confidence was gone. König reached a hand up to awkwardly scratch the back of his neck, his posture stiff as a board under the group’s enraptured attention.

“I… uh… I thought it would shut him up.” He explained, reaching eagerly for his discarded beer.

“Shut him up?” You repeated, incredulously. “You made Soap your bitch.”

That made the group break out into laughter again. Anyone else would’ve been embarrassed. But Soap was glaring at you eagerly, impish delight behind his eyes.

“Oh yeah? You impressed by that, Private?” He asked, giving you a cocky nod. The attention of the group suddenly turned on you. The weight of so many eyes made you understand König’s change in demeanour. It did feel like a lot of pressure. “I’ve got a truth for you.”

“Uh – wait.” You said, shaking your head. “That’s not fair. What if I want a dare?”

Soap didn’t pay your protest one hint of notice. “Who was your best kiss ever, huh?”

Oh, fuck.

He’d chosen the exact worst possible question and asked it in front of the worst possible audience.

Graves and Gaz and Alejandro and Rodolfo were expecting a normal answer. Their expressions were full of innocent – if a little drunken – curiosity. But Ghost and König were a completely different story. Each of them held a different level of hope, suspicion, and trepidation in their gaze.

What the fuck? How could you possibly fucking answer that? Though, you couldn’t help but feel like it was your fault in some ways – Soap had gotten all drunk and had his pride dashed and you’d been stupid enough to place yourself in the line of fire.

“Come on, Private.” Gaz laughed, thankfully not picking up on the underlying subtext. “You look like you just shat your pants. Answer the question.”

Deflection seemed like the only escape. You cleared your throat, trying to play it cool. “Are you implying that König was your best kiss ever?”

“Uh uh.” Soap shook his head, advancing on you fast. “Am no’ havin’ this shite again. Answer.”

The fury in his eyes shut down your attempt in an instant. You let out a sigh, resigning yourself to defeat. What were you meant to say? You couldn’t tell him the truth, even if you knew it yourself. To pick between Ghost and König was like choosing between water and air. You needed both.

But more than that, you couldn’t spill such massive secrets in front of the others. That would be a career-ending move for all three of you.

So… what to say?

“My first kiss.” You replied, nonchalantly. “I was grateful someone decided to kiss me at all.”

That earned an appreciative chorus of chuckles from the group. Thank fuck. Even Soap seemed satisfied, giving you an appreciative pat on the head.

“Aye. I felt the same.” He nodded, eyes wandering into space a little. “Girl in my form, year 7. I’d fancied her all year.”

“What age is that?” Graves asked.

“Year 7’s the first year of secondary school.” Soap explained. “I was twelve.”

“I had my first kiss at ten.” Graves replied, folding his arms and tucking his hands into his armpits. He was leaning back confidently, rocking on his heels. “Stuck my tongue in her mouth. Drove her wild.”

Soap pulled a face you’d never seen him pull before. A mixture of surprise, disgust, and confusion.

“Who the fuck tongues durin’ their first kiss? Are you mad?”

Grave shrugged, somehow looking smug. “Players do, son.”

“My first kiss was with a girl who lived down my street.” König suddenly cut in. He burped, and then his expression flattened. “She stole my bike.”

Gaz barked out a laugh, and then clamped his hand over his mouth as if he could silence a noise that already happened. “During, or after?”

König shook his head. “Before.”

Gaz look like he had a million questions, but he was silenced when another voice piped up. The flood gate had been opened, and now everyone was sharing their stories.

“I was fifteen when I had my first kiss.” Alejandro said, flashing a smile. “She was one of my sister’s friends. Seventeen.”

He paused to wink.

“An older woman.”

Ghost scoffed. “Not that much older.”

You gave him a nudge with your elbow. “What about you, huh?”

Ghost cast a pointed side eye down at you. “I don’t kiss and tell, Private.”

That was to be expected, you supposed. He didn’t do anything and tell about it, let alone sharing a close personal memory like that.

“That’s who wins top prize, then?” Ghost suddenly asked, grabbing the bottle of whiskey to refill his drink. “Some person before me that I’ve never met?”

You felt a grin tug at your lips. Had you actually gotten under his skin? Was that possible? As toxic as it might be, it was hard not to feel a little smug at the concept.

“I gave the best answer for the conversation I was in.” You replied. Many ears were well within earshot. Being diplomatic was the only course of action.

Ghost’s eyes creased into a smirk. “Clever girl.”

Raised voices caught your attention. Soap and Graves were squaring up to each other, like a pair of stags locking horns.

“Yeah? Well why don’t you go out and prove it?” Graves demanded, shrugging. “Or I’ll shave off one of your eyebrows.”

“That’s no’ how eyebrows works. I didnae claim I could.” Soap was saying back. The drunker he got, the thicker his accent was becoming. It was getting a little hard to understand. “Fuckin’ ninny.”

“I can’t understand you.“ Graves was leaning forwards, mockingly cupping a hand to his ear. “All I hear is pussy.”

Soap’s face was flushed red. He stamped a foot, as if having a tantrum, and then turned for the door. “Right! I’ll show ye.”

As he slammed through the door of the common room, Graves was hot on his tail. It was Gaz that followed them first, mumbling something about ‘having to see where this goes.’ Soon, the rest of you were all filing out of the common room too, all nosy enough to embrace the cold just to see where this was going.

You were eagerly digging in your pockets for your pouch of baccy when someone placed a hand on your arm, stopping you in your tracks.

Private.” König gently said, pulling you aside. “Can I have a word?”

“Of course.” You nodded, turning with him to leave, letting the rest of the group follow Graves and Soap out without a clue as to your absence. “What’s up?”

“Not in public.” König shook his head, firmly.

The barracks were near here, your room an obviously available private space. When you altered your course of direction, König let himself be led.

“Alright.” You said, softly. “Come on.”

The two of you slipped away into the night, leaving the rest of them none the wiser.

Chapter Text

Being in this part of the base was bizarre. It was so unusually quiet. The thumping music blasting from inside the common room was still audible, the bass vibrating through the thick concrete walls of HQ. But absent were the footsteps, slamming doors, and the rumble of conversation - the tell-tale signs of the presence of loads and loads of people. Usually, it was inescapable. Even in the dead of night, people were coughing, snoring, flushing the toilet. But since everyone was either at the party or on patrol, these corridors were empty. Dead.

“Come on.” You mumbled, fumbling with your key. The alcohol had hit you only slightly – not enough to put you out of your mind, but enough to make you a little unsteady. Or perhaps, you supposed, that was the nerves. “This is my room.”

“I know.” Was all that König said as you finally got the door open, stepping aside to allow him to enter. He did so, having to duck ever so slightly to fit through the doorframe.

This was the first time he’d been inside. You only realised it through watching his demeanour, his curiosity as he took everything in. The pathetic looking single bed. The same standard-issue fake wood furniture every soldier got. Your bare bones personal effects and decorations, the photos of family and friends from back home.

You stepped right over to your bed, kicking your shoes off to sit down on it. “What did you want to talk about?”

König paused. Like he’d only just remembered your presence. When he looked down at you, his eyes were soft. “I didn’t get discharged.”

You frowned. “What?”

He leant back against your chest of drawers, though clearly careful not to put too much weight on it. It groaned underneath him anyway. You watched as his eyes drifted off to the side, wistfully gazing out of your window.

“After Horangi.” He clarified, quietly. “No one has mentioned it.”

Oh. So much had happened since then. Though that argument was just over a week prior, the amount of action you’d seen in that period made the interaction feel like it happened a lifetime ago. You’d been so wrapped up in your own feelings that it hadn’t occurred to you how König must have felt about it.

Though, if you were to take what he had told you at face value, then he was just an innocent man who got caught up between his old friends and his new ones. That must be a tough position to be in. Had he been waking up for work every day not knowing if each one might be his last?

“I didn’t tell anyone.” You said, hands wringing together in your lap. “No one knows.”

The tension in König’s shoulders seemed to ease. He let out a breath so hard it rustled the front of his hood. How long had he been worrying about this? Why had he waited so long to pull you aside? The answers were unclear, but the warm look in his eyes made his relief obvious.

“I thought as much.” He nodded. “They wouldn’t give someone like me a second chance.”

“As long as I doubted the accusation even a tiny bit, I couldn’t bring it to anyone.” You explained. As soon as you started talking, it felt natural and easy to tell him these things. Again, it made you wonder why this conversation hadn’t happened already. “And I did. Doubt the accusation, I mean. You… you don’t strike me as a traitor. Not really.”

König bent down to get on one knee in front of you. He took your small hands in his big ones, his thumb slowly stroking over your palm.  

“My position in the Task Force is tenuous at best.” His tone was serious. “I owe you my job, schatz. Thank you.”

“You’ve defended me in battle plenty of times.” You pointed out. “We can call it even.”

“No.” His hands gripped yours a little, eyes boring into yours. The eyeblack he always wore had faded and worn over the course did the day, now rubbed off enough to allow little brown eyebrow hairs to poke through. He had lovely long lashes. “Defending a soldier in battle is easy. Defending a friend is hard.”

The distinction he made was curious. He had a whole past as a colonel, in charge of countless rookies at your rank or even less. How did he view those people? How did he view you, in comparison?

Besides, you knew he was wrong. Price had given you enough information earlier to inspire some pretty important questions.

“They’re the same thing.” You replied, giving him a squeeze of the hand in return. “When the helo incident happened, did you feel like I was just any other soldier?”

He frowned. There was a few seconds pause. “No. I did not.”

The two of you stayed like that for a moment. König was still knelt at your feet, holding your hands. The silence was heavy, but not suffocating. You could see thoughts churning inside his head, his gaze sweeping over you.

“I have never felt like you were just any other soldier.” He said, moving to sit beside you on the bed. Just like your drawers, it protested audibly under his weight. “From the first moment I saw you.”

“Love at first sight?” You grinned, if a little teasingly. “That’s a new one.”

“Oh, ja.” He was playing into your joke as he grabbed your hand and brought it up to his mouth for a kiss, slipping your fingers under his hood. The air underneath it felt warm, and moist. “Head over heels, Private.”

As funny as it was for him to play along, the notion did make you curious. Your first memories of König were all too clear in your head, but you’d never considered how he’d felt. What his perspective was.

“What did you actually think?” You asked, feeling pink flush over your cheeks as he started kissing each of your fingers in turn. “What was your first impression of me?”

König leaned back, letting out a long exhale. His eyes drifted to the ceiling, clearly lost in thought. You took the opportunity to stroke his jaw. It was coated in a light smattering of stubble.

“I had packed my things and left in the dead of night.” He recounted, placing a hand on his head. “When I arrived at this base, they put me straight into that holding cell. I sat in there for hours.”

You waited quietly as he spoke, hanging on his every word. Knowing who König was before 141 was always an incredibly compelling concept. You’d considered it many times over. Your hand travelled upwards, finding soft locks of hair around his ears.

“And as I sat there, I thought, ‘what have I done? I have admitted I have nowhere to go. Now they can do whatever they like with me.’” He kept explaining, body taut as his mind focused. Your fingers played with his hair. His free hand found yours, gripping it tight. “So, I kept sitting there, and I waited for the inevitable.”

You frowned, not quite picking up on his meaning. “The inevitable…?”

He glanced down at you for only a moment. “Torture.”

That answer was so blunt it took all the words out of your mouth. König noted your silence and took it as an opportunity to continue his story. The hand that he had holding yours was gripping a little tighter, now.

“I knew the men would come. When the door opened they would all pour in, tie me up, and then the pain would start. That is how hostages are treated. That is what KorTac would do.” He said, surprisingly nonchalantly. He spoke of these things clinically, as if he was reading instructions from a handbook. “But then, finally, the door opened. And in walked you, Private.”

His eyes filled with warmth. When your thumb rubbed near his mouth, he gave it a kiss.

“Did you think I was going to hurt you?” You asked, softly.

König chuckled, shaking his head. “No.”

When he shuffled his body closer to yours, you rested your legs on top of his. “What did you think of me?”

The two of you were so close now that you could feel his breath, permeating the sniper hood to brush against your face. Your stomach was doing flips. His hand left yours, instead resting on your shoulder.

“You impressed me.” He murmured, staring deeply into your eyes. Amusement passed over his features. “A little thing like you, all alone with me. When you held your nerve, I knew you weren’t just any soldier.”

Curious. He had made an assessment about you from your reaction to him. It made you wonder what kind of reactions he usually got.

He paused for only a moment longer, before bending down to gently kiss you on the lips. Then, his mouth wandered, planting kisses on the soft flesh where your shoulder met your neck. God, it felt good. Electricity jolted outwards from the point of contact, setting your skin on fire.

You let out a noise, a low hum of pleasure. The feeling of him kissing your neck like that was making your brain go blank. “Mmm. That feels great.”

He chuckled again. The mixture of his hot breath and the fabric of his hood tickling your skin caused tingles to wash over you. He didn’t stop, moving his mouth further upwards, grazing below your ear.

“Sorry, schatz, but I cannot help myself.” He murmured, in between kisses. “Your body calls to me.”

“Don’t apologise.” You breathed, as he moved from kissing to gentle biting, teeth nipping at your skin. “I love it.”

He made a guttural noise in the back of his throat. Suddenly, he was moving, pulling you to him, putting you in his lap. You rested your hands on his shoulders, thighs straddling either side of his.

“Oh, the things I would do.” He growled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “The things I would do, if I could.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Who says you can’t?”

He froze for a moment. “But we… there is a party going on. All of our squad mates – ”

“All of our squad mates are outside right now, watching Soap doing a dare.” You finished, as calmly and reassuringly as you could. “We don’t get many opportunities for privacy.”

“No.” He nodded. “We do not.”

Neither of you spoke.

Then, after a few seconds of excruciating silence, König turned towards you.

“So, should we…”

“Yes, König. Yes, we should.”

That seemed to flick a switch inside him, to activate something in his mind that had previously been kept offline. Hunger ignited in his expression. His hand trailed over your shoulder, brushing past your breasts, down your ribcage to your waist.

“You have to tell me that you’re sure.” He said, taking a moment to search your eyes with his. “Once I start, I’m not sure I will be able to hold myself back.”

You’d never been more sure about anything. Here with König, alone in your room, nothing else mattered. Not KorTac, not the chems, not Valeria. Not even Ghost. Without his hands on your skin, you felt incomplete. Even this pause was taking too long for your liking.

“Of course.” You nodded, reaching out to touch a hand to his chest. Christ, his body was so broad. “I’m sure.”

“Really?” He said. “I do not want to pressure you.”

“It’s okay, König.” You smiled. “I… I trust you.”

In that moment, they felt like the most important three words in the world. Weeks of suspicion and pain and doubt had led up to this moment. Analysing his behaviour, questioning your sanity, listening to Ghost’s rants. But tonight, under the low amber light of your bedside lamp, sat in his lap in the privacy of your room, it just felt right. König was not your enemy. He was… a friend? A lover? A coworker?

Fuck, you didn’t know what he was. You were asking the same questions you had earlier, in the container with Valeria. That didn’t matter right now.

All that mattered right now was that he was here with you. That you could feel his heart beating under the palm of your hand, thumping in rhythm like a marching drum. You trusted him. You trusted König.

“I appreciate that.” He was looking down at you pointedly, eyes full of meaning. What you had just said was a big deal, and that clearly applied to both of you. “I trust you too.”

“Now.” He said. A smile flickered in his gaze as he gave your body an appreciative once-over. “This is a beautiful dress, and you look gorgeous in it.”

His hands traced around your back, finding the zip. “But all night, I have been longing to see it on the ground.”

He paused, waiting for approval.

“Would you indulge me?”

You took a breath, and nodded. “Absolutely.”

“Good. That’s very good.” He wasted no time, tugging on the zip firmly enough to undo the dress with one swipe. Standing up to get it off your body felt a little awkward, nervous fingers fumbling at the fabric.

Your anxiety was relieved as König whistled softly under his breath. You were almost bare in front of him, wearing nothing but your lingerie. Thankfully, it was one of your nicer sets – saved for special occasions like tonight’s party. There was a look in König’s eye that told you he appreciated the sight.

“Mein Gott…” He muttered, wide eyes creasing into a smile. “Wunderschöne Mädchen.”

The German had slipped out of his mouth so naturally that it took you a moment to realise that he’d changed languages. Since he still didn’t know you understood German, you remained silent, raising an eyebrow.

König cleared his throat. “You are a beautiful girl, schatz.”

For such a big and intimidating man, he could be really cute sometimes. Part of you wondered what it might take to make him speak in German again. If that was a tell-tale sign that he was losing it, then it was good information to know.

After all, that would probably make sense. He’d only ever done it in other high-octane situations, times of stress and fear. Like when you got blown up by the anti-personnel mine. That memory seemed so long ago now.  Your relationship was so different back then.

He leant forwards, holding you by the waist with one hand, the other reach up to gently touch your bra. A mixture of nervousness and excitement churned around in your stomach, making it hard to stay still.

“Thank you.” You smiled. Your hand tightened on his chest, bunching up the fabric of his t-shirt. “But… I’m not the only one with an incredible body, you know.”

“Is this what you want?” He grabbed your hand, pressing it to his abs. “You want me to join you in your nakedness?”

“Well, I definitely wouldn’t protest.” You grinned, biting your lip. Feeling the hard muscle on his stomach was making yours flutter. “Be my guest.”

“Come on, schatz. I know you can do better than that.” König tutted, moving your hand around to his waist, then up to one of his pecks. “Why don’t you use big girl words, and tell me exactly what it is that you want, hm?”

You swallowed hard, suddenly feeling a little shy. “I want you to take your clothes off, König. I want to see your body.”

“Gut Mädchen.” He crooned, excitement gleaming in his eyes. “Say please.”

Fuck, this was driving you wild. You looked up at him through your eyelashes. “Please, König.”

“Mein Gott. When you ask me like that, how can I refuse?” He leant back to shrug his jacket off, placing it alongside your dress. By the time he got to his t-shirt, the eagerness was clearly taking hold, because he whipped that over his head and threw it to the ground.

He had wispy tufts of hair extending from his waistband to his belly button. It felt a little fuzzy under your fingers as you stroked his abdomen, enraptured by his form. “God, I could never get enough of this. You’re carved like a statue.”

“Nonsense.” His hands returned to your waist, pulling you close. “I cannot accept compliments whilst in the presence of a goddess.”

One of his thumbs ran under your shoulder strap, eyes gazing wistfully down at you. “Will you let me remove this bra, schatz?”

When you gave him a nod of agreement, he didn’t waste any time. His hands reached around your back, unclasping the hooks and taking it off. Surprisingly, he took the time to lay it carefully next to your dress before turning back around, staring at your body with a look of appreciation.

“You are so schön. So beautiful.” The words were almost a whisper, spoken under his breath as his hands reached out, brushing against the soft flesh on the underside of your breast. “Ah, scheiße. Look at this. Your beautiful body. Those cute little nipples…”

He seemed to lose himself for a moment. Gentle touches became fondling, and fondling became groping. His hands grasped and kneaded at you, every point of contact making your skin buzz with electricity. You reciprocated his energy, your hands running over the tight muscles that covered his torso. He felt so solid. It was entrancing.

Suddenly, he let out a low growl. “I cannot wait any longer.”

No sooner had he said that than he was pushing you backwards onto your bed. Once you were on your back, he was on top of you. His legs boxed yours in, his weight propped up on one hand just next to your head. The way König’s massive body seemed to completely envelop yours, his torso twice the size, was so fucking hot.

The two of you locked into a kiss, lips pressed together, mouths exploring hungrily. He’d tucked his sniper hood into the straps of his helmet, freeing up his mouth. Your pulse was racing, rushing through your ears. Every breath you took was a gasp, a stifled moan, a hum of pleasure. His hand wandered over your body, down your ribcage, along the curve of your waist, and then further south.

He rocked his hips against yours. His body was reacting to the situation already. Of course. The closet had already taught you how easily König got going. He was rubbing against you now, every tilt of his hips pressing the hardness in his trousers against your crotch.

“Oh, mein kleine Häschen.” König groaned, lips leaving yours long enough to take a few short gasps. That was a new one – he’d called you his little bunny. Cute. His breath was hot on your face, eyes staring into yours. “I need to see all of you.”

He pulled back, retreating with a line of kisses that led down your body from your neck, to your lower stomach. Once his face was level with your panties, he paused. Your heart was pounding inside your chest.

He ran a finger under the hem of your underwear, pulling the fabric ever so slightly away from your skin. His eyes were trained on yours, watching your face closely.

“Will you let me?” König ask, placing a kiss on the inside of your thigh. “Or does this lovely little wet spot tell me all I need to know?”

You already had your thumbs hooked under your pants, pulling them down your thighs eagerly. “Yes. Oh, yes.”

“Mmm. Calm now, kleine häschen.” His breath was hot against your crotch. “I will give you what you want.”

All rational thought was going out of the window. The party, the others, your job – fuck it all. König’s head was between your thighs and that was the only motivator driving your body now. Once your panties were off, tossed carelessly aside, he had his attention fully focused on you. His hands were on your inner thighs, thumbs resting either side of your crotch.

He ran a finger along your slit, gently sliding a finger between the folds. You’d gotten so wet, there was no resistance at all. It slipped slowly into your entrance, your body quivering from the anticipation. The urge to scoot downwards and get him to go in faster was incredibly strong.

“Please.” You panted, desire and need overtaking your shame. “I need more than that, König.”

“More? You need more?” He was growing more agitated and aroused by the second, delight brightening his features. His finger pushed inside, filling you properly. Your eyes screwed shut in pleasure, cursing softly under your breath. He let out a chuckle, hot breath kissing your privates. “How is this, hm? Is this enough for you, kleine Mädchen?”

Having his finger inside you was good, but not enough. All it seemed to do was remind you that there were other parts of his body that would be more satisfying. His hand began to move, sliding himself in and out as the thumb on his other hand began to rub your clit.

“Oh, Christ…” You groaned, a hand over your face.

Okay. That was helping.

He clearly took delight in making you react, focusing his movements from lazily swipes to tight little circles. A second finger slipped in without warning, both of them pumping in and out of you faster and faster. God, it was good. You couldn’t help the sounds that came out of you, the soft and sultry sighs of arousal and pleasure.

“Oh, those sweet moans. How I have longed to hear them.” König crooned, speeding his movements up just a touch. “You do not disappoint, pretty thing.”

Then, all of a sudden, he stopped. His hand stopped pumping in and out, his thumb no longer rubbing your clit. Disappointment washed over you like a wave. You propped yourself up on your elbows, ready to protest, when the sight of him made you stop.

König was holding a finger up to his mouth. It was slick with your juices. Before you could say a word, his tongue darted out for a taste.

Then another. Then, he stuck the whole finger in his mouth, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “Scheiße. You are as sweet as a summer’s day.”

His hands hooked around your thighs, pulling your hips down the bed towards him. His face was level with your crotch again. The teasing was getting unbearable. Could he hurry up already?

König planted a single kiss against your crotch. It made your insides to quiver.

“I must taste you, schatz.”

You nodded, mindless and desperate. “Yes. I need that. Please, König.”

His eyes held yours for a single moment, as if he might say something else. But he didn’t. His head descended, you felt his breath on your thighs and then finally, finally, his hungry mouth was on your wet, needy pussy.

His tongue went to your clit, swirling around it. Your back arched. Fists clenched your bedsheets. Pleasure ricocheted though your body, heat pooling in your crotch. Every sense was dulled except one, your body hyper-focusing on touch only. He slipping two fingers inside as his mouth worked, gently fucking you with them.

Fuck.

Heart pounding. Pulse racing. Panting heavily. Ecstasy was building inside you, clouding your mind, filling your body with heat. He wasn’t giving you what you wanted – he was giving you what you needed.

“Mmm. Ja. Oh, ja.” The moments where he stopped what he was doing to talk made you so damn impatient. “Let yourself go, schatz. Just relax.”

You couldn’t speak, let alone respond properly. All you could do was place your hand on the back of his head, fingers grasping at hair and hood. He groaned as you pressed his face into your crotch, the sound sending delicious vibrations across your flesh.

His eyes were trained on you whilst his tongue went back to work, watching your reactions carefully. Keeping your eyes focused was difficult enough, never mind holding eye contact. He kept at it, flexing his jaw to add to the sensation. His fingers were pumping faster, moving in and out of you with pace.

The feeling was building higher and higher. It started in your crotch. Spread quickly to your stomach. Soon, every inch of your skin was on fire, every synapse firing at full velocity.

“Fuck. König, I… uh, fuck.” You were trying to communicate, to form a sentence, but your brain was melting a little. He didn’t stop, didn’t pause to let you think. “You’re… you’re gonna make me…”

He looked like he wanted to reply, but he couldn’t. He tongue was working faster than ever, jaw clenching up and down as he began to take you to your climax. No one had ever eaten you out like this before. His fingers were curling slightly as they thrust inside, searching for your g-spot.

Building and building, higher and higher. The feeling was in your throat, clouding your mind. Pleasure. Arousal. Heat. Need. Need, need, fucking need. So much neediness inside you that it was your only thought, only desire, only driving force.

Hotter and hotter. Fuck. Oh, fuck. He was so strong. Holding you so strong and tight as he used his mouth to make you fucking lose yourself and  –

“Fuck!”

Every muscle tightened. Your eyes squeezed tight. Pleasure infected your very soul, your brain flooding with the all of the oxytocin and dopamine you’d been craving for weeks.

“Ja, schatz. Yes.” His fingers kept moving, tongue flicking at you still, guiding you gently through the orgasm. “Let yourself cum. Let me see it.”

The heavens opened, and you ascended. As the orgasm took over, the real world ceased to exist. Just your body, and König’s mouth. Pleasure filled every sense, every square inch of your being.

“Oh, ja. Gut Mädchen. Good girl.” His tongue was replaced with his thumb by now, the movements slowing down. As the crashing waves of your orgasm began to gradually recede, rational thought was coming back. Your breathing calmed, pulse returning to a normal pace.

God, that was good.

He took his hands away, planting a cheeky kiss on your thigh. “How was that? Was that enough for you, kleine Häschen?”

As the torrent of dopamine quelled to a trickle, all the energy seemed to drain out of you at once. Your body felt like it was sinking down into your bed, melding with the sheets.

“Holy shit, König.” You breathed, letting out an incredulous chuckle. “I could never get enough of that.”

“Good.” He growled. You heard the sound of a belt buckle being undone. “Because we are not finished.”

When you opened your eyes, he had risen to his knees, hands unzipping his fly. The obvious tent in his trousers made your mouth water. Your body was still quivering, weak and sensitive after such a powerful climax. König’s hand went into his trousers. He stopped, smirking down at you.

“Or are you not ready?”

There was no doubt left in your mind.  If he asked for it, you would give him all of you.

“Oh, I’m ready.” You replied. “So fucking ready.”

König got to his feet, standing next to the bed. He was so tall that his crotch was now at eye level. One of his hands brushed gently over the back of your head, fingers intertwining with your hair.

“You are so eager, sweet thing.” His hand travelled slowly downwards, taking a hold of your chin and tilting your face upwards to look at him. “I love it.”

He let go of your chin to tug at his trousers, pulling them further down. His underwear had a little wet spot now, the bulge very obvious. You’d been trying not to look so far, but now you couldn’t help yourself. It was right in your face.

“Liking what you see, schatz?” König smirked. He nodded, gesturing down at himself. “Why don’t you take me out and get a proper look?”

You didn’t need telling twice. The words came out before your brain processed them. “Oh, yes. Yes, sir.”

König barked out a weak half-laugh. “I haven’t heard that in a while.”

That was probably true, you supposed. But his words were no longer your focus. Your fingers were slipping into his underwear, hooking under his waistband to pull them down. And when you did…

… Wow.

As König’s cock sprung free of its confines, you had to make a conscious effort not to let your jaw fall open. You thought Ghost was impressive, but this was something else. It was intimidating to look at – not just long, but girthy, too. It was a nice shape and colour, with just a slight curve upwards. The tip was already slick, oozing with pre-cum. But it was just so damn big. Dicks like this were only found in porn. Real people didn’t have dicks like this. Did they?

You were left blinking in surprise, frozen in place for a moment. His whole body was large, so objectively, his size made sense. But knowing and seeing were two completely different kettles of fish.

“We can go as slow as you need.” König suddenly said, softly. You found him staring down at you, amused. “No need to rush.”

You blinked, thrown off by the sudden change in tone. “What?”

“You were worrying about my size.” König clarified. “I can see it on your face.”

You looked at it again, still in awe. “I don’t know if it’ll fit.”

He smirked at that, giving himself a cursory tug. It was sort of endearing to see him like this. His behaviour matched the battlefield – there was no anxiety in him now, only confidence. Though, that did sort of make sense. It seemed that most of König’s confidence came from what his body could do.

“It will fit.” He declared, assuredly. “We will make it fit.”

Fuck. That statement was both hot as hell and daunting as shit.

You wrapped your hand around his length, rubbing it up and down. Slowly at first, gradually getting faster. It was obvious he was enjoying himself because his fingers entangled in your hair, tugging at your roots slightly.

“Ja, ja.” His voice rose in pitch, giving away his enjoyment. “That’s it, sweet thing.”

You didn’t focus on his words, didn’t let yourself get distracted from keeping up a steady rhythm for him. He obviously seemed to appreciate it, nodding and grunting and tensing up.

“Use your mouth.” König suddenly commanded. “I need you to get it nice and wet.”

When you opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out to lick the tip, he groaned appreciatively. The sound spurred you on, drove you to open wider, take more of it into your mouth.

The unmistakable taste of his juices oozing onto your tongue let you know that you were doing it right. It was tangy, vaguely salty, but not unpleasant. He was grunting and gasping now, fingers tightening in your hair. You opened your mouth wider, taking him deeper in. When he hit the back of your throat, it was a struggle not to gag.

“Mmmm, sheiße.” König was moaning, helping you keep rhythm. “Open your mouth wider. Let all the spit out.”

Every movement he made was jerky, focused, desperate. Seeing him dissolve into nothing but lust and need was fucking hot. You knew where this was going, knew why he needed his dick wet.

Your mouth was open as wide as you could, tongue running up the underneath of his length. But try as you might, you just couldn’t take all of him in. You ended up having to get your hands involved, cupping his balls and working the shaft. His noises grew to fever pitch above you, delicious grunts and gasps that heated your body right back up again.

“Look up at me. I need to see those eyes.” He commanded, breathily. When you obeyed him, he gasped, eyes rolling back for a second. “Oh, scheiße. You are captivating.”

His hand moved from the back of your scalp to your face, gently cupping your jaw. His fingers were stroking your cheek, guiding each bob of your head in rhythm. His eyes suddenly laser focused, clarity returning for a moment.

“I’m going to fuck you, Private.” He growled. “If you don’t stop me, I’m going to put you on your back and fill that little pussy up.”

You wouldn’t stop him even if your life depended on it. He let you keep sucking a moment. When you made no protest, he grinned.

“Alright.” His hips pulled back, clearing your airways again. It felt good to breathe. Your jaw hurt a little. “I hope that tight little hole is ready.”

A hand on your shoulder pushed you roughly backwards. Your back hit the bed, air expelling from your lungs. What had gotten into him? He was like an animal. Just like earlier, his hands hooked around your thighs to pull you closer to him. This time, however, it was his cock that he was lining up at your entrance. He had a leg propped up on your bed, bending a little to get to the right height.

“I want to hear you, schatz. Tell me how much you want me.” As he spoke, his fingers gently spread you open, rubbing up and down your slit. “Mein Gott, are so fucking wet.”

“I don’t just want you, I need you.” You replied, feeling the pounding head rush of arousal returning. “Please, König.”

“Good. That’s good, sweet thing. You are so well behaved.” He nodded, smiling as he gently started to push himself in. “Just lie back, let me take control.”

He went slowly, at first. Easing himself inside inch by inch, watching you carefully for a reaction all the while. It didn’t hurt so far. He’d gone beyond getting you warmed up and left you positively feral. His eyes fluttered closed, brows furrowing intensely.

“Schieße. Your little Muschi is so tight.” His voice was cracking, strained. Once he’d tested the waters by taking it gently, his pace began to quicken. Slow and careful strokes became hard, fast thrusts.

Fuck. You could feel it in your gut. He was pounding away inside you, his body melding with yours. Every inch of your skin was on fire, your breath caught in your throat, your very soul crying out for him. He had his hands on your hips, roughly pulling you back against him every time he slammed his hips into yours.

That hurt a little. The discomfort must have shown on your face because he calmed for a moment, easing up a touch. “Are you alright, little one?”

You gave him a nod, wincing slightly. “That was too deep.”

“No problem. We will work up to it.” He pulled out of you, giving himself a few absent minded strokes. “Stand up.”

Adrenaline was coursing through your veins. Your body felt fucking electric. When you stood up, he took a hold of you, hands scooping under your thighs to lock them around his waist and lift you up into the air. You let out a short squeal of delight that got cut short when he pressed you back into the wall, expelling the air from your lungs.

“Yes, yes. My god, you’re tight…” He was inside again, hands busy keeping you supported, hips doing all the work. There was nothing else now – nothing except the feeling. Nothing except König’s body and yours, intertwined in the ancient primal dance of pleasure.

“Fuck, fuck…” Words were coming out of you before you had time to process them, babbling incessantly. He was holding you up, fucking you in the air. If you weren’t so horny, it would be genuinely impressive.  “Oh, my god…”

“Sing for me, little bird.” König was staring at you intently, a drop of sweat rolling down his brow. “Tell me how it feels.”

“So big. Stretching me out.” You gasped, eyes squeezing shut. He was taking longer strokes now, almost pulling out completely before ramming right back in again. It was making your brain melt. “So good. So deep.”

His head dipped down, lips kissing and sucking at your neck again. Fuck. Your hand was between your legs now, desperate to give your clit the stimulation it needed to send you over the edge.

“Getting close.” You whined, feeling the pleasure swelling inside your stomach once more. “You’re… you’re gonna make me…”

He paused the kissing long enough to whisper in your ear. It made tingles shoot down your spine. His breathing was haggard, hot and moist on your skin. “Yes, sweet thing. Cum all over my cock.”

The sensation was building. Growing higher, filling your body with heat. König was still fucking you hard, keeping up a brutal pace. You could see it now, see the bulge he made in your guts when he got the angle just right. A nipping bite on your neck and a rough, needy grab of your arse made the moans impossible to control.

“Oh, fuck, König.” The thrill of your body weight being held in his hands so effortlessly and the pleasure of having him filling you up were mixing into a heavy, lusty cloud in your brain. No thoughts. Just ecstasy. Just cock. Just König. “I need this. I need you. I – oh, fuck…”

He growled into your ear, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. “Yes, schatz. Say my name. Louder.”

“Mmmf, fuc- König!” You cried. “Oh, König. Fuck.”

Your fingers were a blur, working yourself over the edge. Everything was kicking into overdrive. His lips were on your neck. Hands on your body. Cock inside you. Yes. Oh, yes. So good. Fucking christ –

Your whole body shook as you came again, lightning bolts of feeling shooting up and down your body. The orgasm was a solar eclipse in your minds eye, an explosion of dopamine and serotonin.

“That’s it. Drench me in your juices.” König was panting, not losing a single beat of his rhythm. It was relentless. “You are clenching around me. It feels – ah, scheiße – so good.”

Though your climax rolled to a stop, König did not. If anything, he was speeding up, panting louder, moaning more.

“Let yourself relax.” His hand were on your hips, holding them in place so he could keep thrusting at the right angle. “I’m going to push myself all the way in now.”

He blinked, and a different person took over. The pace increased tenfold. God, it was like being fucked by a jackhammer. His hands gripped you tighter, using them as a handle to slam his hips into yours. Most prominent of all though was the intense intermingling of pleasure and pain as his cock reached new depths inside you.

“I’m going to – oh, ja – to fill you up.” He wasn’t growling now. He was panting and whining, body coated in a fine sheen of sweat. “I’m going to fill your kleine Muschi up.”

His eyes squeezed shut. The thrusts became jerky, rhythm finally faltering.

“So b-beautiful…” he grunted, his voice sounding strangled. “Oh, mein Gott…”

His arms wrapped around you. A primal cry left him. So fucking hot. He was holding you tight as his hips juddered to a stop.

Part of you was worried he might drop you. But when he slowly pulled out, he gently set you down, before crashing onto the mattress just a few inches away. The both of you laid there for a moment. Breathing hard. Staring up at the ceiling.

Your body ached. It had taken quite a pummelling. König seemed just as exhausted, still laying motionless beside you.

The tension in the room had been so thoroughly cut, it was like it was like it had never existed. Weeks of flirting and questioning had been building up to fever pitch, all to be unlocked and let out in that moment. What had just happened had been inevitable. No doubt about it.

“Do you want more of my attention, schatz?” König suddenly asked, propping himself up on one elbow to look at you, wearily. “I bet I could ease another climax out of you, if you want it.”

“No. Thank you.” You waved an exhausted hand, trying to communicate how thoroughly worn out you were. As good as that was, you’d had enough. Things were starting to ache. “I need to catch my breath for a second. Then we’ll go back.”

He nodded at that, a sense of relief clear as day in his expression. He was just as tired as you were, it seemed.

“Alright. Come here. Let me hold you in my arms.” He said, gently drawing you in. He was nice and warm. “I am sorry if I hurt you, schatz.”

“Don’t worry, I feel great. I loved it.” You smiled, settling in. This was maybe a little too comfy. Getting back up was going to be difficult. “Mmm. I could stay here all night.”

“Me too.” He kissed the top of your head. “That was perfect.”

Chapter Text

It took a long time before you were able to move again. Having König’s arms around you was like being locked into the bed. Was it him that was exuding warmth, or you? It was impossible to tell anymore. Not when you were floating on the clouds, bodies so thoroughly intertwined that you may as well be two parts of one entity.

The music from the party was still audible. Eventually, you would have to go back. That was an unfortunate inevitability, a storm cloud hanging over the blissful peace of the moment. But maybe if you didn’t say anything, you might be able to have just two more minutes.

König suddenly let go of you, reaching up to check his watch.

“We have been gone for some time.” He said, softly. “Soon, they will come searching for us.”

Or maybe not.

“I’m so comfy.” You whined, screwing your eyes shut tight. “Don’t make me move.”

“Awww.” König’s grip on you tightened for a moment, before releasing. He pulled himself up to a seated position, gently stroking your cheek with the back of a hooked finger. “But you must, schatz. Do you want to explain yourself to the Lieutenant?”

Fuck. He was right, of course. At the very least, if no one else noticed your absence, Ghost would. Either he would come looking for you himself, or he’d send Soap to find you. Neither felt like good options.

That made you sit up too, reluctantly heaving your heavy bones into an upright position. “No. No, I don’t.”

It had been long enough now that your body had cooled, the sweat had dried. Tugging your clothes back on was easy, in the physical sense. It was the mental load of packing away what had just happened that you found more difficult. König was dressing now too, tugging his shirt roughly over his head and putting his hood back into the right place.

“You know, everyone thinks you are a nice girl, Private.” König noted; amusement in his tone. “But mein Gott, you know how to please a man.”

Your hair was the last thing you needed to fix, sharply tugging a brush through it to get the knots out. Going back to the party with sex hair would not be a good look.

“Right. That’s funny, coming from you.” You said, shooting him a grin. He raised an eyebrow and you clarified what you meant. “The gentle giant that just made me cum with his mouth.”

“Gentle giant?” He was nearly ready too now, fastening his belt back on. Watching him buckle it back up stirred a number of feelings within you. “I am not sure that I am worthy of such a title.”

“You have a pair of sentimental underwear, given to you by your mum.” You pointed out, making your way over to your door.

That made König laugh. “You do not know my mother. She would kill me if I did not keep them.”

Opening the door for a quick check of the corridor revealed that the coast was still clear. No one was around, everyone still preoccupied by the festivities or duties of the night. The two of you could slip by unnoticed, walking nonchalantly back to the common room as if you’d been for nothing more than an innocent stroll around the base.

The scene inside the common room was largely the same as when you left it. The space was packed wall-to-wall with people, soldiers and shadows alike. The music was so loud it was like being hit with a wall of sound, bass thumping through the floor. Worse was the smell, the unmistakable stench of sweat and body odour amplified by the heat that filled your nose the moment you walked through the door.

“We went for a walk around base.” You suddenly hissed to König, realising that you hadn’t yet established any kind of cover story. “We just left for a chat.”

He nodded, taking the information in his stride. “Affirmative, Private.”

Thankfully, the group of familiar faces that you were looking for were easy to spot – and even easier to hear. That Scottish accent could cut over any crowd. Having clearly come back inside after their little trip out, your comrades were currently stood by the bar. Even Price and Laswell were there. They were probably the only people in the room drinking from actual glasses instead of plastic cups.

Coming back to the group felt nerve-wracking as shit. As if what had just happened was plastered all over your face, easily readable in your expression. These guys knew you very well. They were with you all day, every day. Sometimes all night, too.

“Well, lookie who we have here!” Soap wrapped an arm around you as you approached, his movements clumsy and exaggerated. “Hello there, stranger. Where were you?”

“We went for a walk. Had a chat.” You told him, hopefully loud enough for the group to hear and to silence any further questions on the matter. It felt like the shameful truth was lit up in flashing lights above your head.

But when you pulled back to study his face better, you realised it was pointless worrying about that. His eyes were unfocused, body swaying from side to side as he clearly tried his best to match your gaze. He was drunk. Very drunk, in fact. You couldn’t help cracking a smile, shaking your head in exasperated amusement. There was no way he would guess anything like this.

“Christ, Soap.” You sighed, giving him a pat on the shoulder. “How much have you had?”

He gave you a smile in return, knowing and cheeky. “Enough.”

That’s when your gaze finally found Ghost. He wasn’t too far away, watching the interaction with casual interest. When he noticed you looking he raised his glass slightly, giving you a single nod. Unlike Soap, he was clearly still in control of himself.

“What did you do to him?” You whined, detangling yourself from Soap’s grasp so you could find him some water. “He’s fucked.”

Ghost cocked an eyebrow, raising his glass to his lips. “He did that to himself.”

There was a single bottle of spring water on the now very dirty makeshift bar. Unsurprisingly, it was completely untouched. You grabbed it, thankful and surprised that it was even there in the first place.

You turned, giving Ghost a side eye. “At least he’s still got both his eyebrows.”

“He does.” Ghost nodded, taking a sip of his whiskey. “He ran all the way to the perimeter fence and back for ‘em.”

Part of you was kind of sad that you’d missed that. But what had happened with König was so much more valuable to you that there was no competition between the two moments, no doubt that you’d made the right decision.

“Drink this.” You ordered, thrusting the bottle into Soap’s hand. “You’ll thank me in the morning.”

He was reluctant to take it, frowning as he gave the drink an unnecessarily close inspection. “Dinnae need it. Am fine, lass.”

He was talking out of his arse. He did fucking need it. You tapped the bottom of the bottle just like Gaz had done earlier, signalling for him to shut up and start drinking.

“Come on.” You said, folding your arms. “Don’t tell me you’re too chicken to down some measly water, MacTavish.”

That made him roll his eyes. Thankfully though, it did seem to convince him. His hand was swaying when he lifted it to his mouth, haphazardly spilling a little down his cheek. It was a relief to see his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, knowing he was actually swallowing the stuff. How much it would actually help, you didn’t know. But it surely couldn’t hurt.

“Oh, I see how it is.” Gaz was strolling over, watching Soap drink the water with mischievous glee. “Little baby Soap can’t handle the alcohol, huh?”

The effect was immediate. Soap crumpled up the bottle in his hands, before throwing it to the ground. Water sprayed everywhere – all over him, all over Gas, and all over you.

Fuck. You had been so close to calming him down.

“Away n’ bile yer heid, ya fuckin’ bawbag!” Soap growled, the words sounding like little more than Scottish nonsense as he squared up to Gaz, throwing his arms outward in a ‘come and get me’ gesture. “Ya wanna see a bairn? I’ll make ye cry like one.”

Gaz only laughed, clearly not intimidated in the slightest. He gave Soap a quick look up and down, clearly unimpressed with what he was seeing. “You gonna do that before or after you’ve finished your sippy cup?”

Soap grabbed him by the collar. “I swear to Christ, you’ll – ”

“Lads!” Ghost suddenly barked. Oh, great. Now he was going to help. “Fuckin’ pack it in!”

He lunged forwards, reaching to grab the back of Soap’s shirt. Soap wasn’t paying him one lick of attention, still getting right in Gaz’s face. Gaz was loving it, watching Soap’s reaction with a bemused expression on his face.

Suddenly, the music stopped.

Every single voice in the room fell silent. The music video on the TV had stopped playing. Instead, the screen showed static. It lasted just long enough for you to write it off as a glitch, and begin to turn your attention back to the matter at hand, back to separating Soap and Gaz.

But then, a face appeared on the screen.

It was a man, sitting at an expensive-looking desk. He was dressed in a well-fitting suit, with harsh brows and cropped brown hair. Behind him was a backdrop of eloquence – fine silk curtains, a taxidermy of a bear, mahogany bookshelves, and a crystal chandelier.

His face was somewhat familiar. It took a while to realise you’d seen this man before, in pictures from classified files.

Your heart dropped.

“Good evening, SpecGru.” The man said, a dead-eyed smile on his face. He had a thick Russian accent. “For those who do not know me, my name is Vladimir Makarov.”

Next to you, Soap tensed, letting out a low growl. Ghost had him tightly held by the scruff of his neck.

“Unbelievable.” He snarled, fighting against Ghost, trying to take a step forwards. “Fuckin’ dickhead.”

Makarov did not react to the interruption. If this was a live feed, it had to be one-way, because he kept talking as if nothing had happened.

“Your beloved Task Force 141 will certainly know me.” He continued. The ghost of a smirk appeared on his lips. “Our paths have crossed before.”

Heads turned. Most eyes focused on Price and Ghost. Your commanding officers didn’t seem to notice the attention, both standing as stiff as a board. Soap was wriggling in place, seething with so much fury that he clearly couldn’t stay still. Ghost kept the tight hold on him, attention fixated on the screen.

“I will not waste time. Timing is everything. We both have little of it.” Makarov began, holding up his wrist to tap an expensive looking watch. “I am sure that you have all heard of the common belief that every three seconds, someone dies.”

He reached off camera for a moment, retrieving a lit cigarette. Smoke began to form a cloud around his head as he took a long puff. “But that ‘fact’ is not true. In reality, it happens much more often. The real number is less than a second. Do you know what that means?”

Still, nobody moved. It was like everyone was in a trance, unable to tear their eyes away from what was unfolding before them. What was happening? What kind of threat was this? There was no training for this, no set protocol you could follow.

Was an attack imminent? Was he buying time for his men to infiltrate? The location of SpecGru’s headquarters wasn’t a secret, it was public knowledge. But even after all of the threats, all of the plots you’d heard, it felt impossible that an actual firefight might happen on these grounds. That would be an international incident, an open declaration of war.

But there Makarov was, still on the screen. Talking with confidence, his posture relaxed. Was this even a live feed, or a pre-recording? Was he waiting outside the door, ready to burst in at any moment?

Did you survive the helicopter just to be killed less than a week later?

“It means that every sentence I say leaves a trail of bodies in its wake. It means that every second wasted is more people dead.” He paused to lean forwards, hands curling into fists. Something in his expression hardened. “Lives are slipping through your fingers, like sand flowing in an hourglass. You can spread your fingers, but you will not catch them all. Some will fall through the cracks. People you love. People you need.”

Another sound was interrupting the silence. The low rumble of Price’s voice could be heard now, his mouth pressed to a handheld radio. You did your best to tune him out, intent on absorbing every second of Makarov’s speech.

“The stage is set, SpecGru. We all have our parts to play. Whether or not you auditioned for your roles, you have them anyway.” Makarov paused for a moment. Chuckling, as if a joke had been told. But no one else was audible, no other presence visible on the video feed. “After all, you are the ‘good guys’, are you not?”

He stopped himself mid-flow, glancing up at the ceiling as if a thought had suddenly come to mind. “Well, all but one of you, anyway.”

What the fuck did that mean? There was another sound – the rustle of fabric, as Ghost sharply turned to glare at König. But still, neither of them moved. Everyone else was still transfixed, still watching the video like bystanders at a car crash.

“You regale yourselves as the heroes. Pat yourselves on the back, tell yourselves that you do what you do for the good of the world.” Makarov continued as though the interruption had never happened, confident and calm. “But to a blind man, we are all men with guns. When you wash your hands, the dirt runs down the sink, but your skin is still filthy.”

He paused to take another drag of the cigarette. It was almost impressive how enraptured the room was, even when watching something so mundane.

“I wonder how good you will be, when the final curtain is called. I wonder what price you would pay for freedom. How long you would hold on to your precious morality.” His grin was wider now, toothy and unnerving. There was no emotion in his eyes, no joy to accompany the expression. “If you step over the corpses of your friends to get to your prize, is the reward still worth it? When you stand in the courts and tell the jury you had no other choice, do you think they will believe you?”

He paused, as if waiting for a response. Your pulse was racing, breath halted in its tracks, waiting in your throat. Clueless to what might be about to come next.

“We could find out together. The outcome might be interesting.” The grin on his face finally faltered, a serious expression falling over his features. His eyes were glaring straight into the camera, boiling with white-hot fury. “Or we can save ourselves a lot of time, and you can submit. Respond on our terms, and leave our operations alone.”

He gestured his arms out wide, leaning confidently back in his chair.

“Because after all, never forget…”

Makarov smiled. A real, genuine smile.

“Timing is everything.”

The video cut off. Then, so did the lights.

Everything went black.

Chapter Text

Chaos erupted. People were yelling, calling out to each other, barking orders above the mess. In the dark was a flurry of movement, a changing mass of black shapes as everyone began to push and shove, scattering in all different directions. It was organised disorder, the crowd breaking off into squadrons and groups, rallying to emergency positions. Somewhere in another building, an alarm began to ring. It was a klaxon, piercing and irritating to the ear. Amongst the commotion you could hear the furious clicking of someone desperately flicking the light switch, to no avail.

Had Makarov cut all power? Out of the windows, you could see the other buildings get plunged into darkness, one by one. The soldiers scrambling on the courtyard were methodically hidden from view as they ran, succumbing to the rolling wave of darkness.

Countless awful questions were running through your head. Did that mean the defence systems were offline? How much of it could be run on the emergency power only? Was that even operational, or had they disabled that too? Did KorTac have boots on the ground? Was this an invasion?

People had burst out of the doors, escaping the common room. The hallways beyond were illuminated in red from the backup lighting, adding a touch of horror to the panicked scene. So many people were running in and out that the door began to make an awful cracking sound, the wood splintering as it was repeatedly rammed into the wall.

Though you tried to listen, you couldn’t hear engines. No cars were rolling into the courtyard, no planes flying overhead to rain down hell upon you.

But in your heart, it was no comfort. Because that wasn’t their plan. You knew that from everything König had told you when he joined. Their plan was to blow the base up, to destroy you from the inside.

You turned away, determined to make some sense of the room. To get your bearings. Where were your team? They had been stood by you just seconds ago.

As your eyes began to adjust, you realised what you were looking at. Two big angry men. Ghost had grabbed König by the scruff of his shirt and slammed him against the wall.

“You fuckin’ PRICK!” Ghost was shouting above the noise, getting right in König’s face. “This was your fuckin’ plan all along, yeah? You got any idea how fuckin’ dead you are? You’re in some deep fuckin’ shite now.”

“It’s not me!” König said, pushing him away, trying to put space between them. “This is what he wants!”

“Guys, please!” You cried, throwing yourself onto Ghost’s back, urgently trying to yank him away. It was useless. You may as well be tugging on a stone statue. “Stop!”

“I will fucking kill you!” Ghost was still yelling, jabbing a finger between König’s eyes. The far off klaxon suddenly doubled in sound, as it began to ring out from another place. “I’m gonna end your fuckin’ life!”

“Captain!” Your voice had risen to his level now, screaming above the cacophony of madness all around you. Though you were twisting and turning to glance around, your hands never left Ghost, never stopped trying to get him off König. “Captain Price!”

Thankfully, the response was almost instant. Price appeared at your side out of nowhere, quickly assessing the situation you were in.

“OI!” He barked. “Pack it in!”

The effect was immediate. Ghost stopped in his tracks, head snapping around to look at your Captain. He was still holding König against the wall with his forearm to his throat, body rigid and taut.

Price glanced between all of you. Gaz was behind him, an arm around Soap’s shoulders. Being huddled in a group with your comrades was comforting, after such a chaotic few moments. Less comforting was Price’s grim expression, his mouth pressed into a hard line.

“Listen to me. This is an emergency. They’ve cut power to at least half the base.” He said, speaking just loud enough to be heard. That was the first bit of good news. You had been wrong, and at least some of the systems would still have power. “It’s not a hack, not a software issue. We think the line has been physically cut.”

That was more serious. How close to the base had KorTac’s soldiers gotten? The idea that they might have already infiltrated sent a chill down your spine.

“I need you to go and check the line.” Price told Ghost. “We need to make sure the site’s clear before we can send engineers.”

“What about him?” Ghost retorted, nodding towards König.

Price rolled his eyes. “Take him with you until I can calm these loonies down.”

Ghost stayed frozen in place, eyes glaring at Price. There was a clear sentence unspoken in the air.

“Makarov’s trying to get in our heads. Don’t let him.” Price clapped a hand on Ghost’s arm, giving him a long, pointed look. “Keep him safe. Trust me.”

For a second, you thought Ghost might actually disobey. But under the withering gaze of his own commanding officer he actually gave in for once, nodding begrudgingly.

“Fine.” He grumbled. “But I’m taking Johnny and the Private, too.”

“Negative.” Price shook his head. “Soap’s fucked. He’s staying here. Laswell will sober him up.”

Ghost frowned, disbelief on his face. “I can get him sober. I’m not leavin’ him.”

“I said, no.” Price snapped back, firmly. The look on his face said that he was clearly getting sick of this shit. His radio was crackling, constantly alive with different voices calling out emergency codes and updates. There was no time for this, no time for squabbles or arguing. “Do as I say, Simon. Go. I’ll send coordinates when I have ‘em.”

With a noise that was somewhere between a growl and a huff, Ghost finally let König go, allowing some breathing room between the two. König was rubbing his neck, stretching left and right.

“Move, Private.” Ghost ordered, giving you a shove towards the door. “East car park is closest.”

You didn’t need telling twice. The room had emptied somewhat, the pathway to the door a little clearer. Despite that, you still found yourself shoving through people, slipping through gaps between bodies to get to the door.

“Christ.” Ghost cursed. He cut in front of you, barging people aside with force. “Fuckin’ MOVE IT!”

It was like watching Moses part the red seas. People jumped back, scampering to get out of his way. The low red lighting was illuminating the whites of the skull on his balaclava, serving only to make him even more frightening than normal. Right now, that was useful. It was catching attention.

The three of you stormed down the corridor, having to get through the barracks to reach your destination. First stop had to be the armoury, because there was no way you’d be able to fight in this dress. An extremely tired looking officer was sat behind the desk, a flurry of paperwork around him as people moved through the room at top speed. He handed each of you a pack as you entered, so all you needed to do was stop by your locker for a couple for a few small bits, and you were on your way. You got changed quickly, discarding the casual clothes in favour of your usual gear – combat trousers and tactical vests. Once changed, you headed out, moving towards the East car park.

Inside the building had seemed crazy, but outside was worse. Troops previously on patrol were mobilising, soldiers running to various different defence positions. There were still alarms ringing out, the car park lit up with flashing red and white lights. It felt like a bad dream. This base had quickly become your home, your place of safety. To see it in such disarray was gut wrenching.

It was there that Ghost pointed to the last vehicle in the row, a large black 4x4 with tinted windows. Automatic reflexes drove you to leap into the back. König did the same, piling into the other side. Ghost got into the drivers seat and switched the engine on. Everyone was moving fast now, muscle memory kicking in as the three of you slipped seamlessly into soldier mode. The fun and casual party atmosphere was well and truly dead. Makarov had shot it in the face.

Once Ghost had gotten the car into motion, driving the vehicle through the gates of the car park towards the perimeter fence, he glanced at you in the rear-view mirror.

“Alright, Private.” He said. “You got your gun in hand?”

You glanced down at it, checking the safety was on. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Ghost nodded. “Now, point it at him.”

You paused.

“What?”

Ghost rolled his eyes. “You heard me. Point the gun at König.”

Every muscle was frozen, your body locked tightly in place.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” König demanded, throwing his arms out wide. “I am unarmed, and a member of your team. You cannot hold me at gunpoint.”

“I can do whatever the fuck I want.” Ghost retorted, through gritted teeth. “You’re a fucking traitor. Makarov said so.”

“Makarov said that someone was a traitor.” König snapped back. “It is not me.”

“Private.” Ghost called. “The gun. Now.”

It was still in your hands. Your quivering, trembling hands. Ghost’s eyes found yours in the rear view mirror again, narrowing into sharp points.

But you couldn’t. How could you?

It was König. You… you trusted him.

You shook your head, hands gripping the weapon so hard your knuckles turned white. “Ghost, I really think – ”

There was a screeching of tires, and Ghost slammed on the breaks. Everyone in the vehicle lurched, inertia causing you to fly forwards. The seatbelt activated, tugging harshly against your shoulder and stomach as it snapped into place to stop you from hitting the back of the passenger seat in front of you.

The second the car had stopped, Ghost readjusted his position so he could turn around to reach you.

“I’m not suggesting. I’m telling. This is an order.” He growled, grabbing your hand and pointing the gun at König himself. “I am in charge. He is a threat.”

The second his hand left yours, you faltered, lowering it to the ground. “Ghost, please. Think about what Price said. Makarov just wants – ”

“Listen to me!” He suddenly barked. Your mouth snapped shut, words dying in your throat. “He might not be a traitor. But he might be one. Now our base is fucked and we’re trapped in a car with ‘im. We have to keep ourselves safe.”

The sudden outburst was startling. You blinked twice, eyes filling with tears that threatened to spill over your cheeks.

“I don’t want to do this.” You mumbled, emotion thick in your voice. “Please don’t make me.”

“You have to.” He took your hand again, making you point the barrel at König again. “I wanted Johnny for this, but he’s not here. This is a security protocol. Someone has to do it, and I’m drivin’.”

Oh. Suddenly, his earlier insistence on bringing Soap made sense. In his own fucked up way, he had been trying to save you.

“There’s no other way?” You asked.

Ghost rolled his eyes, losing patience. “Do as I say, Private. Now.”

Finally, you complied, reluctantly raising the gun again, pointing it at König’s chest. “I’m so sorry.”

Satisfied, Ghost got back into his seat and the vehicle started moving again. König’s eyes flicked between you and Ghost. Then to the gun. Finally, back to you. His brows were furrowed together, eyes narrowed. He didn’t look afraid. He looked angry.

“You are weak.” He spat. “At least now, I have the real answer to my question.”

“… What?” You asked. This wasn’t the reaction you were expecting at all. What question was he talking about?

He turned, gaze pointed out of the window. Not even looking at the gun, as if he wasn’t phased by it in the slightest. “You would shoot Soap.”

“What?!” Now it was Ghost’s turn to be confused. “No one is shooting Johnny, you fuckin’ KorTac piece of shit.”

But you weren’t confused. You understood. He was talking about Horangi.

Damn.

Maybe… maybe you were weak.

Would you shoot Soap?

“This is different.” You said, the words flat and half-hearted. No one believed that. Not even you. “We’re trapped in a car with you. He’s right. It’s protoco – ”

“I am starting to think that Ghost uses the word ‘protocol’ whenever he wants to excuse something.” König cut over you, not listening to a word. “Where can I read these ‘protocols’, hm?”

“You can read them from your holding cell when we get back to base.” Ghost retorted, barely keeping his eyes on the road. At least everywhere was empty at this time of night. “You’ll have plenty of time to read then.”

No one spoke for a moment. König finally looked at you again, a swirling mix of disappointment and disgust passing over his eyes.

“I thought I was more important to you than this.” He said. “I thought you trusted me.”

“I have to do as my commanding officer says.” You whimpered. “Otherwise they’ll court-martial me.”

That didn’t stop him for a second. “And you care about the opinion of some jury more than me?”

No.

Maybe.

You didn’t know.

Makarov’s words flashed through your mind – a different sentence to the one Ghost was focusing on.

If you stood in the courts and told the jury you had no other choice, do you think they would believe you?

Ghost was still your commanding officer. As weak of an excuse as it was, it was still true. He had given you a direct order, and you couldn’t just disobey it. Especially if the argument could be made – which, damn it, but it could – that König was a threat. Then a whole bunch of safety protocols leapt into action.

But it didn’t matter. Because no matter what technicalities might absolve you from blame, it didn’t change the simple fact at the heart of it all.

This was König.

“Okay, then.” The man in question leant backwards, body completely relaxed, arms out wide. “I am a traitor. Shoot me.”

The rifle was still pointed at him. It was still in your hands. But your fingers were nowhere near the trigger. Not even close.

“Don’t do this.” You pleaded with him, voice cracking with emotion. “Ghost said – ”

“I don’t care!” König snapped, eyes wild. “What do you think, Private? Do you believe in anything at all? Or are you just some pawn, a game piece for your generals to move around the board?”

He held his jacket open, making your target easier to hit. This behaviour was completely unlike him, and it was fucking scary.

“Mach es! Do it!” He demanded, so agitated he clearly couldn’t stick to one language anymore. Both came thick and fast out of his mouth, the German sounding even angrier than the English. “Erschieß mich! If I am a traitor, then follow your orders!”

“I do trust you.” You eventually managed, tears in your eyes. “I trust you, and I care about you.”

Ghost scoffed. The car had pulled off the main road and onto a dirt path that winded through forest. There was even less visibility ahead now, even less indication that people could he nearby. The tension he was clearly feeling was showing in his raised shoulders, in the jerky way he was steering the car around corners.

“If that’s true, you’re an idiot.” He replied, shaking his head. “Trust is a luxury we can’t afford, Private.”

There was no winning here. You couldn’t please either of them. What did they fucking want from you?

Your aim shifted, pointing at König’s arm instead of his chest. It was the best non-lethal target because from Ghost’s angle, it looked like nothing had changed.

But it made König stop for a moment, eyeing your shifting position with interest.

“This is a pointless exercise, Ghost.” König grumbled, hitting the back of the driver’s seat in front of him. “She will not do it.”

It was all getting too much. A whirlwind of feelings was blowing a gale inside you, the winds howling so bad it was all you could hear.

“I’m the one holding a gun!” You suddenly shouted, squeezing the metal so tight that it was imprinting upon your skin. “I’m not an idiot! I’m not weak!”

Silence. Neither of them had a smart remark now. Everyone in the car got very still all of a sudden.

“Alright, Private.” Ghost was saying, keeping a close watch through the rear-view mirror. “I hear you. Let’s not do anything dumb.”

“Because you’re not dumb.” König suddenly jumped in, correcting Ghost’s statement. He had a hand held out to you now, as if to take the gun. You pulled it back, moving it out of reach, pointing it at the floor. “You are a smart girl.”

“You can’t keep doing this!” You cried, hands shaking so bad you might drop the weapon altogether. “You can’t keep putting me between you!”

Neither of them said anything. Typical. All the talk in the world, yet not a word to say about their own actions.

“How can I possibly make the right choice? How should I know what to believe?” You demanded, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. “Think about it.”

Still, no one interrupted you. They hung on your every word, watching and waiting. “I have to consider Makarov’s words. He’s a known terrorist and König, you might be a threat. Not to just to me, but to everyone that lives and works at SpecGru HQ.”

The gun was still pointed at König’s arm. The safety was on. You double checked, just to make sure. “I also have to listen to my commanding officers. But my captain said you’re not a threat, and my Lieutenant says you are.”

“And just to top it all off, it’s you, König.” You said, voice cracking. A lump was forming in your throat. “You’re not some random face in the crowd, some person who’s picture I’ve seen on a dossier. I let you into my life, into my bed. That means something to me.”

König’s hand retracted, holding both of them out and open up next to his head. Ghost wasn’t making any moves to interrupt, his focus split between driving through the woods and watching you in the mirrors.

“I know you want me to pick between you, to choose who’s better, but I can’t.” You said, finally letting the truth all come out. It was scary as fuck, but you didn’t have a choice anyway. The stakes were too high, and your mouth was moving too fast to be stopped. “I care about you both. I trust you both.”

With that, you realised, you were done. A quick press of the button, and the mag came out of the gun. You slipped the weapon into its holster, out of your hands.

“If you want him shot, go ahead.” You declared, settling back into your seat with folded arms. “But I’m not going to be a part of the constant arguments anymore.”

Silence. Neither of them spoke. Your heart was pounding in your chest, thudding like a war drum. You’d done it. You’d really done it. All your feelings were laid bare now, your heart on your sleeve.

More time passed. It started to make you feel nauseous. Why weren’t they saying anything? Were they both rejecting you? Had you just lost both of them at once?

“That’s it?” You demanded, anxious for someone to say anything. “No answers, no ultimatums?”

It was König that finally replied. He let out a long breath, his eyes travelling from your holstered gun to you.

“I would never give you an ultimatum, schatz.” He said, softly. “I would rather have part of you than none at all.”

Ghost pulled over. At first, you thought he might be stopping so that he could turn around and shout at you.

But when he pulled the key out of the ignition and began tugging on the gear he’d packed for himself, you realised that the journey was over.

No one spoke. No one moved.

“We’re here.” Ghost finally said, breaking his silence. “I’ll take point. König, take the rear and watch our backs.”

König blinked, glancing between the two of you. “So, no one is shooting me today?”

Ghost rolled his eyes. “Not unless your old pals are about to surprise us.”

With that, he got out. You and König weren’t far behind, the two of you still sliding pieces of gear into place.

“Bravo 0-7 to Actual.” Ghost said softly over the radio. “You copy?”

“Copy, this is Actual.” Laswell was quick to reply, her surroundings clearly still crazy as the sounds of sirens and screams bled into her mic. “Give me a sit-rep, Ghost.”

“We’re out of the car.” Ghost replied. The last thing you saw of him was his back, slinking away into the darkness. “Coordinates dead ahead.”

Chapter Text

The walk was long, and dark. Wooded forests had given way to an unstable rocky path through the mountains. SpecGru’s engineers had clearly made efforts to prevent this exact scenario from happening, as the electrical lines you were searching for ran through the jagged, rocky crevice at the bottom of a ravine. Navigating it was difficult, especially through the sickly green lens of your night vision goggles - every step had to be carefully placed, so as to prevent you from twisting an ankle.

Ghost was in front of you, König behind. No one had really said anything after your big outburst. If punishment was coming, it was going to be later. No time to worry about it now.

“100 feet away.” Ghost whispered over his shoulder. “Guns up.”

You had your rifle gripped tightly in your hands, constantly searching the horizon for signs of movement. Spotting an anomaly amongst masses of already strangely-shaped rocks was not an easy task. Having Soap to join you would’ve been nice – an extra pair of eyes never hurt anyone. Damn that stupid bastard for getting so drunk.

“Treat carefully, and watch for wires.” König warned under his breath. “There might be traps.”

Ahead, Ghost moved past a particular large boulder, and froze.

“Enemy ahead.” He whispered. “Just one.”

You peeped around the boulder, trying to see what he was looking at. That’s when you saw it – a lone figure, about eighty feet away. He was standing next to an a small green metal box – a transformer in the power line. He was clearly a soldier, clad in full tactical gear and carrying what looked like an old machine gun.

“Mein Gott.” König had appeared right next to you, the sudden voice in your ear making you jump out of your skin. It was a miracle you didn’t make a sound. He had a shocked quality to his own voice, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “It’s Frederick.”

There was a short pause, as both you and Ghost turned to look at him. He glanced between you, before rolling his eyes.

“Do not look so alarmed. He is not my friend.” He hissed, keeping his rifle pointed directly at the soldier. “He was one of my Lieutenants. Cocky little arschloch.”

“You sure?” Ghost retorted, a sceptical look in his expression. “Don’t wanna go rub your dicks together?”

König rolled his eyes. “I have another idea.”

With that, he pushed past you and walked the other way around the boulder, coming out of hiding. Both of you held a hand out as he passed, as if you might be able to grab him and stop him, but it was useless. He was too strong for that, too confident in his decision to be swayed so easily.

It only took a few seconds for Frederick to spot him. He was a big lad, but no one was as big as König. A balaclava hid the bottom half of his face, and the darkness obscured the rest. He had been holding some kind of small plastic box, but he dropped it the moment he saw König, scrambling to pick his rifle up and point it at him.

For the second time today, König was unfazed by being held at gun point. He kept approaching his former comrade, slowly and carefully.

“Stop!” Frederick said with an accent you couldn’t place, eye pressed to his sights. “Stop right – ”

Then, he faltered, his gun lowered slightly. “… Colonel König?”

“Frederick!” König held his arms out wide, as if greeting an old friend. “You are a sight for sore eyes.”

The shorter man froze in place, clearly unsure of how to react. His head was darting this way and that, probably trying to work out whether or not König was alone. You sank back a little, making sure you stayed hidden.

“You’re a traitor.” Frederick pulled his mask down to spit on the ground aggressively, gun snapping back up to aim at König. “SpecGru scum.”

König chuckled at that, shaking his head. His hands were still up in the air, nowhere near his gun. He took another step forwards.

“I cannot tell you the details of my mission, Lieutenant.” König said, his tone calm and even. “You do not have the clearance.”

He was playing double agent. A risky move. It relied on a lot of assumptions and guesswork, as well as faith in the other man’s gullibility. You clenched your gun a little harder, making sure it was aimed and ready to go if necessary.

“I am a captain now.” Frederick snapped back. Oh, shit. Not good. “Your intel is out of date.”

“Oh. Well, congratulations.” König shrugged, still not breaking a sweat. “I have been in a red zone for the past month. You’ll have to forgive me, Captain.”

“… Thank you.” Frederick respond, slowly. There was less hostility in his voice, his posture relaxing slightly. Had he done it? Had König managed to convince him? “But what are you doing here?”

“That’s classified.” König was quick as whip, no hesitation. “Where are your team?”

That’s when Frederick turned around, searching behind him for something you couldn’t see. “I can’t – ”

Quick as lightning, König’s hands went to his weapon.

BANG!

Blood sprayed from Frederick’s head as he crumpled, and fell to the ground. The change was so fast – one moment he was alive, sceptical of König, and firmly holding his gun. The next he was dead, laying in a crumpled heap on the ground.

Ghost came out of hiding first, treading slowly through the undergrowth.

“Do you understand, now?” König asked, casting a sharp eye towards your Lieutenant as he joined Ghost’s side, the two of them standing by the corpse. “He was not my friend. I am not loyal to KorTac.”

“Alright, fine. Whatever.” Ghost grumbled, waving an errant hand as he stepped over the body, still moving towards the objective. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Three of you gathered in place, all standing next to the electrical box on the ground. It was immediately obvious that Price had been right – it had been tampered with. One of the doors was ripped open, the metal of the lock twisted and broken. Inside it looked rather like someone had grabbed all the wires and pulled as hard as they could. Cables were twisted, pulled clearly out of place. A few had even ripped, the plastic sheathing giving way to thin copper wiring inside.

Ghost’s hand went to his chest, activating the radio. “Reached the coordinates. One enemy KIA.”

Laswell’s reply was almost instant. “And the power line?”

“Fucked.” Ghost kicked the thing gently, a metallic sound echoing from the impact. “Captain was right.”

König was squatted down, carefully inspecting the little box his former comrade had dropped.

“No traps.” He noted, softly. “Frederick was about to set them up.”

“Before rejoining his squad, probably.” You added. The two men were nodding along with you, finally agreeing on something for once.

“You got all that, Laswell?” Ghost ask, mouth pressed to the radio.

Once again, her response was quick. It made sense – getting this line repaired and restoring power was probably top priority. If half the power was gone, some of the defence systems might have suffered for it. The base might be vulnerable.

“Roger that.” She said, tone clipped and even. “Now, get back to base. Price is calling an emergency briefing.”

“Good copy.” Ghost nodded, though she shouldn’t see him. “Be there shortly.”

König had began to wander a few feet away, checking the direction that Frederick had looked towards. Presumably, he was trying to see if he could spot anyone else. You seized the moment of privacy to glance up at Ghost, desperate to try and read any emotion on his face.

“Well?” You asked, nervousness begetting nausea.

He turned to you, frowning. “What?”

You gulped. “I mean, about what I said in the car.”

His frown darkened. His eyes left you, sweeping over to watch König. For a few excruciating seconds, he said nothing at all.

Finally, he sighed. “He’s right about one thing.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to lose you either.”

König was turning around now, heading back towards you. There was no more time to talk, despite the burning firestorm of questions that he had just set ablaze.

“Come on.” Ghost called to him, finally making to leave. “Let’s get back.”

-

The chaos had been reigned in slightly by the time you’d arrived back. The power was still out, as the engineers were probably only just arrived at the line, but the immediate threat of a sudden invasion had clearly passed. There were extra soldiers at every entryway, the check of the vehicle thorough as you passed through the gates, but no one was actively scrambling anymore. When you’d left the vehicle and began walking to the briefing, the corridors were much emptier than before.

It was held in a similar room to the one they’d held when the Mexicans had arrived. Not one of the larger halls, but a smaller room with just one conference table and a screen at one end. They’d been waiting for you, almost every familiar face on base crammed around one table. Laswell. Alejandro and Rodolfo. Graves. Gaz and Price. A very haggard looking Soap, who had wet hair and bags under his eyes. They’d clearly gotten him sober, but at what cost, you didn’t know.

“Take a seat, come on.” Price was ushering the three of you in, gesturing to the last remaining chairs. He turned to the screen as you took your place at the table, looking at pictures of Makarov and other unknown faces. “Let’s get started.”

There was a pause. Outside of the room, the sounds of chaos were still able to be heard – the sounds of soldiers shouting to one another, alarms going off and then being reset, and the scuffing of feet running down the corridor.

“A week ago, Ghost took a small team into an industrial complex to the North East, to meet up with one of König’s old informants.” Price said, watching as Laswell got the presentation going. On the screen was a building you were very familiar with – the site of the infamous closet incident.

You heart leapt into your mouth. Why was this coming up now? Had they found out what happened, somehow? Was that really that important right now?

“But there was no informant. Instead, there was an ambush.” Price said, calmly. It was strange, to be a part of such stressful and terrifying events only to have it described so simply afterwards. “But what we did find, thanks to König, were computer parts. A lot of it was useless, but he managed to find a hard drive, and our boys down at the IT lab have gotten useful data out of it.”

Ghost folded his arms, raising a sceptical eyebrow. “Why are we only just hearing about this?”

Price shrugged. “They only cracked it a few hours ago. I was going to announce this at tomorrow’s briefing.”

“And?” Ghost demanded. “What was found?”

“It was our first clue that Makarov might be involved. Some of the logs we found were originally in Russian. That, along with the intel we got from Valeria, started to paint a pretty clear picture.” Laswell answered. You felt something in your chest swell. That was your intel. “But that wasn’t all. The main logs we found were from KorTac HQ itself.”

Price slowly walked around the table, before coming to a stop behind König. He placed a hand on the Austrian’s shoulder.

“When König left, the higher ups at KorTac demanded a review of all operations, and a change of plans.” Price’s hand tapped König again, just once, before retracting. “All of König’s intel was wrong.”

Silence. Your jaw dropped. Everything clicked into place. The anti-personnel mines. The dead informant. The ambush. KorTac had been two steps ahead the whole time. This was what had been fucking up your missions. This was the reason Ghost hadn’t trusted him.

You felt a little sick. After all this time, could he really he completely innocent? He’d been telling you all along, but you hadn’t been listening. Fuck.

“I am so sorry.” König put a hand on his heart, bowing his head in shame. “I lead you all into danger. I did not know, I did not mean to.”

All you could see in your head was the joyous look in his eyes as you told him you trusted him. Then, those same eyes, marred with hurt and betrayal as you held him at gunpoint. You wanted to say that he was being ridiculous, that you were the one that was sorry, but it would have to wait. An official briefing wasn’t the right place for such a conversation.

“I don’t want apologies.” Price said, cutting right through the moment. He had a determined look on his face. “I want you to trust each other. König has not been leading us astray. He does not have access to KorTac’s intel. He is one of us.”

Again, silence. The person who really needed to speak up right now was Ghost.

He said nothing, though, eyes boring into the screen. Probably making the same decision you had.

Hopefully.

“Well, with that cleared up…” Price muttered, turning back to the presentation. The slide had changed back again, to the collage of enemies that you now knew were hunting you down.

“Here’s what we know. Makarov is working with KorTac. Tonight, they cut one of our major power lines, severing the connection to half the base.” He began, wasting no time in laying down the facts. This was good. Being left in the dark only ever made room for worry. “Thanks to Ghost and his team, we’ve got engineers heading out to fix the line.”

“Yes, and they should be done within the next hour.” Laswell noted, glancing down at the black clipboard in her hands. “We’ve re-routed the emergency power to make sure that all of our vital systems are functioning.”

“That include defence?” Gaz asked.

Laswell smiled, flat and dry. “They were the first systems we powered.”

Everyone at the table was nodding, processing this information. Shoulders were relaxing. Jaws were unclenching.

“There’s no evidence of any imminent threat of invasion, or even direct contact.” Price assured the lot of you, his eyes meeting each person in turn. “That’s not their play.”

“What are they doin’ then?” That was Soap, resting his head on his arms and mumbling the words through his hands. “Just scarin’ us?”

“Possibly.” Laswell said, stroking her chin thoughtfully. “It might have been a test. They might not have known that was the right power line, or that they would be able to hack our systems.”

Perhaps. Though, the idea that a man like Makarov would go into a situation without knowing for sure what the outcome would be felt doubtful.

“Makarov doesn’t take chances.” Ghost interrupted, abrupt and sharp. “He always has a plan.”

It was as if he’d heard your thoughts. Comforting, too, that someone who really knew Makarov would come to the same conclusion that you had.

“So do we.” Price said. He glanced to the side, eyeing up Laswell. “Kate?”

Laswell pulled a small clicker out of her pocket. With one press of the button, the slide of the presentation changed, and one of the pictures of Makarov enlarged. It looked like a mugshot, with the man himself stood topless against a white background. Several tattoos spanned the stretch of shoulders and chest you could see, including a prominent one of a knife across the base of his throat. The stare he held into the camera lens was not unlike the live feed of him at the party – cold and emotionless.

“Vladimir Makarov.” Laswell began, her eyes sweeping over the room. “Commander of the Russian PMC Konni group, terrorist, and a high-priority enemy of SpecGru.”

“In short - fucking dangerous.” Price added, a grave expression on his face. “Some of you already know him. Some of you are about to. Never, ever, underestimate him.”

Laswell nodded, flicking the slide over to the next one. This one was full of faces you didn’t recognise, all lined up in mug-shot fashion just like Makarov.

“These are some of the most integral people to his operation, the members of his inner circle. Andrei Nolan, an Australian, is his second in command.” She pointed to one of the pictures – a blond man who looked more bulldog than human. Thick set brows, with a wide jaw and drooping cheeks. She moved to another picture, this one a well-kept woman with neatly pinned back brown hair. Though at face value she could pass as innocent, there was a mean streak in her eyes you couldn’t ignore. “Milena Romanova. She’s the financier of Konni group, and integral to his operation.”

The slide changed again. You weren’t looking at faces anymore, but locations – several Slavic looking buildings, some fancy and all done up, and some run-down and abandoned.

One of them enlarged to fill the screen – a building that could only be described as a neon relic. It was clearly old, boasting intricate Muscovite architecture, but every square foot that had been restored was lit up in flashing lights. Somehow, it was both gaudy and classy all at the same time.

“This is the Grand Royal. It’s a large hotel in the centre of Moscow.” Price said, hands gripping the straps of his tactical vest. “The Romanova Foundation is hosting a charity event there – a masquerade ball.”

You frowned. “They don’t seem the charitable type.”

Price shot you a smile, a hint of pride in his gaze. “Correct. They say it’s for charity, but we have reason to believe that a large portion of the funds are funnelled to Konni Group.”

Someone’s radio went off, the crackling, scratchy sound of static interrupting the discussion. Heads turned. Graves stood up, held up a hand to excuse himself, and stepped out of the room. It was weird to see. Normally no one had their radios on during a briefing, but during an emergency everyone needed to make sure they were available for contact at all times.

Price continued on as if nothing had happened. “We’re sending Ghost and a small team into this event. Milena will be there. It might be the only chance we have of getting to her.”

“And then what?” Ghost asked, folding his arms. “Capture?”

Price shook his head dismissively. “Too much hassle. We don’t need to control her, just her money.”

Laswell changed the slide again, this time showing a detailed list of different electronic bugs and trackers. “We have a lot of tech that needs to be planted on her, and amongst her possessions. The team will be attending the event as a cover to gain access to her and later, her hotel room.”

Alright. That was most of your questions answered. Just one remained.

“Who’s on Ghost’s team?” You asked.

Price pursed his lips, ruffling his moustache. “You, König, and Soap.”

Thank god. Knowing that you were going to be alongside both Ghost and König was a big relief. If you’d have been separated, you would have worried yourself sick about them the whole time they were away.

Laswell kept the presentation moving, this time showing an old abandoned building.

“Milena’s money is used to purchase old buildings like this one.” She said, glancing down at the notes in her clipboard. “This is the last place Andrei Nolan was sighted. John will take Gaz and the Mexican Special Forces there to investigate.”

“Is it still an active site?” Alejandro piped up from the back of the room. “Are we expecting action?”

Price gave them one short, firm shake of the head. “Negative. Abandoned a few days ago. We’re hoping to get there before looters do.”

The map changed again. Laswell was showing them a map of the area, detailing infil and exfil points for their mission. Lots of questions were asked – about the conditions of the guiding, what the purpose of the base might have been, how long it would take to get there. A small sliver of anxiety was worming it’s way around your insides at the realisation that you were being split in half. Price, Gaz and the others would be miles away if you needed any help. Not a comforting feeling.

Eventually, Price stepped forwards, clapping his hands together confidently. “So, that’s the plan. We’re gonna hit it like a two-pronged fork. Gaz and I will take the Mexican Special Forces to track down Andrei. Ghost and his team will go to Russia. Graves and his shadows will be following up on their own leads.”

He paused for a moment.

“Any questions?”

No one spoke. Everything was perfectly clear.

Price waved his hands.

“Dismissed.”

Chapter Text

The next twelve hours were a blur. After you left the briefing, everyone leapt into action. The four of you – Ghost, König, Soap, and you – took a trip back down to the armoury to pick up the necessary gear for your journey. These were new kinds of weapons. Covert, subtle, and small. Machine guns and flash bangs were replaced by silenced pistols and sedatives. Along with that came the supplies you needed to get into Russia, including fake passports, visas, and false identities.

Since this was a charity event, Price had you posing as a start-up tech company. Your identity was one of the senior IT technicians at the company, a wiz-kid with a mind for coding artificial intelligence. The idea was that you, Ghost and König would be chatting with guests under the guise of trying to recruit investors, whilst Soap took the opportunity to try and sneak into Milena’s room. SpecGru needed to know where her money was coming from, and where it was going. Being able to plot out the entire timeline would reveal the perfect point at which it could be interrupted, to cut off Makarov from his financier.

Gaz, Price and the Mexicans had waved you off in the car park, heading out on their own journey in the other direction. It felt strange to watch them go, to know that you’d be miles apart, not there to help one another if needed.

Thankfully, the drive to the airport passed by in no time. You settled into the backseat and fell asleep almost instantly, the past few hours of chaos having wreaked havoc on your energy levels. It was as if once your body knew you were finally safe – after all, where could be safer than being with your boys – all of the tiredness you’d been ignoring hit you all at once. The second the car was on the road and your head was leant against the doorframe, you were out like a light.

Once at the airport, everyone had split up. In order to decrease potential suspicion, Price had booked everyone a separate flight. Each of you were taking a slightly different route, all flying at different times. Thankfully, yours was the only direct flight, meaning you didn’t have to bother worrying about a connection. Soap and König got out at terminal one. You and Ghost headed to terminal three.

The weirdest part wasn’t posing as a civilian, or trying to engage your worry-addled brain in ‘normal’ activities like getting breakfast, or browsing through duty free. It was the knowledge that somewhere, amongst all the people around you, was Ghost. You knew he’d taken his mask off, since there was no way anyone would get through security with a face covering, but seeing as you were separated, you hadn’t seen him do it. He would’ve changed clothes by now, meaning any tall well-built man around you could be him. Was he the guy behind you in line at Burger King? Or maybe the guy you saw heading towards the toilets? You found yourself almost paranoid, eyes darting for the face of anyone even vaguely his size and shape in the vicinity.

But once you’d safely gotten through security, waited in duty free, and boarded the plane, that was where things really got difficult. You’d done all you needed to – navigate the airport and make your flight – so now, there was no task to concentrate on. No purpose to set your mind to. All you could do was sit there and wait.

The in-flight entertainment system was old. The movies and shows it boasted had been released several years ago, the games unplayably ancient. You tried your best to watch something, but it was kind of pointless. You couldn’t focus on anything. One moment, you’d be watching The Lord of the Rings, the next, your brain would be recalling the floor plan of the ballroom and pinpointing the exits. When they formed the fellowship, you were going over your backstory, ironing out the fine details. Not even the joy of on-demand fizzy drinks and snacks from the air-hostesses could distract you.

But, no matter how difficult it was, time passed anyway. The hours you spent on the plane marched on regardless of if you deal with them well or not. At some point you fell asleep again, your body taking back the last dregs of sleep that had been interrupted when the car pulled up the airport.

Stepping off the plane into the biting cold air was bizarre. Finding out that you would be going to a foreign country and then arriving there less than a day later was still a novelty, even after all your years of service. The feeling was tripled knowing that you were entering enemy territory. Your first stop was the toilets, to put on the finishing touches of your disguise. The fake company was clearly meant to be performing well, given the fine jewellery and cashmere scarf you’d been given. Wearing stiff business attire was uncomfortable in comparison to the freedoms of combat pants, but at least it didn’t come with such a heavy vest.

The first person you spotted, milling around outside the baggage claim, was Soap. He’d changed into formal attire as well – pressed black trousers and a pale blue button up shirt under a large black parka. Seeing him was a relief, a shining beacon of familiarity amongst an otherwise completely alien landscape. He seemed to spot you at the same time, taking a hand off one of the straps of his rucksack to give you a wave.

“Hey! Glad to see you made it.” He grinned, giving your shoulder a friendly pat as he approached. “How was your flight?”

You shot him a smile. It felt damn good to be with one of your people again. Being all on your own wasn’t exactly the most comforting feeling ever. “Uneventful, thankfully. Yours?”

Soap nodded. “The same.”

The two of you stood there in silence for a moment. This was one of the busiest sections of the airport – arrivals. All around you was a flurry of people, some rushing to greet each other after long journeys, some standing with name-clad signs, some scurrying off to the taxi rank. You were still two men down, half your party missing. Spotting them amongst everyone in here was going to be a task and a half.

“Who’s flight is meant to land next?” You asked Soap, folding your arms. He pulled out his phone, checking something before he replied.

“Actually, they were both meant to land at the same time as each other, a couple minutes apart.” He said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“They were?” You asked. “When?”

Soap frowned. “Ten minutes ago. Not long.”

More silence, and searching. It was only when you just started to worry that you spotted a very tall man walking through the crowd. Though he was wearing civilian clothing and a beanie and scarf that covered most of his face, it didn’t matter. You would recognise those eyes anywhere.

“König!” You grinned. “Nice to see you.”

He nodded to the both of you, gesturing behind him. “Likewise. You should come with me.”

Soap paused, locked in place. “We can’t leave yet. We haven’t found – ”

That’s when another figure pushed past König, glaring at the both of you. Another well-built man in civilian clothing, wearing a grey baseball cap and another thick scarf. Once again, the eyes gave him away.

“I’ve got a taxi waitin’.” Ghost said, pointing behind him towards the exits. “You comin’, or what?”

How the fuck had he managed that? You’d landed first, gotten off your plane, and come straight here. How had the two of them managed to slip past you with enough time to organise that?

You wanted to ask, but there wasn’t any point. He would never give you a satisfying answer anyway.

“Alright, alright.” Soap was already getting a move on, and you were hot on his tail. “Lead the way.”

The taxi took you out of the airport, and onto the streets of Moscow itself. Your face was practically pressed to the glass, taking in as many sights as you could. The tall, imposing buildings. The occasional church, the architecture contrastingly vibrant and colourful. Massive open squares filled with people, tourists and citizens alike. Street vendors were wandering the streets, some dressed in fancy costumes and charging holiday goers for pictures. This was a completely different environment to what you’d grown used to, the quiet countryside and quaint little town that made up SpecGru HQ’s surroundings.

The Grand Royal Hotel stood tall in comparison to the rest of the buildings that it shared a street with. In person it seemed quite ominous, the strange clash of modern and old architecture even more jarring. It was like someone had slapped an oversized conservatory onto the side of a relic. The four of you piled out of the taxi, Ghost remaining a couple steps behind to pay the driver.

The inside of the hotel was much warmer than the outside. Upon entering the reception, a welcome blast of heat washed over you, making you gratefully unzip the big bulky coat they’d provided you with. Soap was already at the desk when you got there, talking with the energetic looking young woman currently working.

You settled yourself beside König, who was standing a few feet further back. As much as you wanted to, you didn’t let yourself spark up conversation with him. The less that was said in front of the staff, the less likely you were to give yourselves away. It didn’t matter in the end anyway. By the time Ghost finally joined you, Soap was already trotting back with a big grin on his face.

“Sorted the rooms.” He declared, waving a room key at the lot of you. His eyes darted between Ghost and König, a spark lighting up his features. “Price booked us a suite.”

The slight raise of Ghost’s eyebrows told you that for once, he was impressed. “Huh. He pulled out all the stops.”

“He did.” Soap grinned, nodding towards the elevator. “Platinum. Let’s go have a look-see.”

As it turned out, the suite was for them, and not for you. When you left the lift, it was right there. The flashy golden plaque on the door read “The Deluxe Suite”. As the others filed in, Soap had stopped you from entering with one hand, a cheeky smile on his face.

“Ah ah ah. What d’you think you’re doin’?” He jibed, shaking his head. “This is boys only, no girls allowed. You’re down the hall, missy.”

You folded your arms, tapping a single foot impatiently. “But all the masks for the ball are in your pack. I need to get my – “

“You need to get changed.” Soap interrupted you, handing you a room key. “Go get yoursel’ dolled up first.”

Behind him, through the slither of open doorway you could see through, Ghost and König were already changing into their own outfits, the two of them slowly peeling off the many layers of clothing that their glorious bodies were hiding behind.

“C’mon, man.” You whined, feeling a light blush burn your cheeks at the sight. “Don’t make me miss that.”

Soap turned, realised what you were looking at, and shut the door a little tighter.

“Alright, perv.” He grinned, a knowing look in his eyes. “Nothin’ you haven’t seen before, huh?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no answer came. When you shut it again defeatedly, Soap chuckled.

“That’s what I thought.” He said, using a hand on your shoulder to turn you around and point you the other way. “Now, go. We need you back here sharpish.”

Your room was on the same floor, but on the other side of the building. It was a fairly modest affair – a decently sized room with a doubled bed, decently sized TV, and fancy en-suite bathroom. There was even the typical cuck chair often found in hotels, where the staff had set up a lone armchair facing the bed for whatever reason. Overall, it terrible, but certainly not matching the supposed grandeur of The Deluxe Suite. Though, you supposed, the true value was in having a place to sleep in this hotel at all, not the size of the accommodation. Everything about this place oozed wealth. The carpets were plush, the curtains thick. There was even a thermostat on the wall, letting you choose whatever temperature you wanted the room to be. That was much nicer than your room back home.

But this wasn’t a tourist trip. There was a mission to be done. You heaved your pack off your shoulders and dropped it unceremoniously on the bed, beginning to rifle through for your outfit. All the boys at the armoury had told you was that it was a dress, and they’d bought it second hand.

That didn’t bode well.

“Don’t be ugly.” You pleaded under your breath, as you slowly pulled the dress out. “Please, please, please.”

… Huh.

You were holding a black ballgown in your hands. Lace trimmings ran up the corseted top, and around the hem of the capped sleeves. The bottom was a mess of mesh and tulle, the kind of big puffy skirt you’d expect from a dress like this. The fabric felt a little cheap, a little scratchy to the touch. It was a bit costume-y, perhaps, but overall… not terrible. Thank god for that. This was a high profile event, after all.

You grabbed the gear they’d sent you off with – a couple small bugs, a switch blade, a silenced pistol, and a few punches of sedative – and loaded it all up into your headed clutch, before heading out the door.

The name of the suite was easy to remember, but it ended up being unnecessary. Even through the closed door, you could hear Soap’s boisterous Scottish accent ringing through loud and clear. If he wasn’t careful, half the corridor would probably hear him.

It only took two knocks, and the door swung open.

“There you are!” Soap grinned, this time stepping aside to let you in. “We were just talking about you.”

Rather ominous. You shot him a nervous smile. “All good things, I hope?”

Their room was, as expected, much bigger and nicer than yours. The suite had a main living area upon entry, with several doors coming off it that presumably led to bedrooms and bathrooms. There was a large velvet sofa, a giant TV, and a big window that gave a spectacular view of the city. In comparison, your little room felt like a cupboard.

“Nah. Ghost was callin’ you a slow poke.” Soap chuckled, rifling through a pack. He pulled out a small black item and handed it to you. “Here. Now you can have it.”

It was a lacy eye-mask, one that covered your cheekbones, brow area, and not much else. Soap was pulling his own mask out of the bag – a Guy Fawkes mask - before cupping a hand to his mouth and raising his voice a little. “Hey! She’s here!”

The door to the right of the living area opened. Ghost stepped through and he –

Fucking hell. He was wearing a different mask.

He was clearly dressed for the occasion, his usual combat clothing and tactical gear swapped out for a suit and tie. And god, it was fucking hot. The way that button up shirt was stretched across his pecs, the suit jacket trimmed nicely at the waist, all of it made his body look so damn good.

But that wasn’t what made you freeze in place, eyes wide.

Because for this occasion, a masquerade ball, Ghost had swapped out his usual balaclava for another mask. A metal mask, angular and nicely engraved with intricate patterns. It was shaped like a shield, tied on by ribbons, with wide almond shaped holes for his eyes and a vertical slit at the mouth. Not unlike a medieval knight’s helmet.

And for the first time ever, you could see his hair.

Just as you had suspected from his eyebrows, Ghost was a dirty blonde. It was cropped at the sides, and around an inch and half on the top. Just long enough to be a little messy, tousled from having just ran his fingers through it.

“Wow.” You breathed, struggling to know how you should process this. It wasn’t just his hair, you supposed, but his whole head – the angular shape of his jaw, his wide, muscular neck. “You look so good.”

“Not as good as you, darlin’.” He said. Through the vertical slit at his mouth, you could just about make out his wry smile.

“Thanks, but, I mean… damn.” You said, trying desperately to find your cool after losing it so thoroughly. “Look at your hair! I’ve never seen it before.”

That’s when a snort came from behind you. Soap was standing with his arms confidently folded, eyes fixated on the final bedroom door. You frowned, confused at what was so funny.

He caught your eye and grinned. “If you think that’s wild, you should see the big man.”

Oh, shit. You hadn’t even considered that this revelation was going to happen twice. Soap stepped forwards and rapped his knuckles on a nearby door.

“Come on, König!” He called, in a sing-song voice. “Come and show the Private your luscious locks!”

The door opened. Out of it came a very tall man in a three-piece suit. Once again, you wanted to marvel at König’s body, at the way the buttons of his shirt were straining to keep his muscles in, but you couldn’t.

For he too had switched out his sniper hood for a mask that tied around his head. This one was different to Ghost’s – not metal, but instead some kind of porcelain effect. It was a pale cream colour, with wooden antlers sticking out of the top. The bottom of the jawline was engraved and painted with plants – mushrooms, flowers, vines.

And just like Ghost, you could see his hair. He had long dark brunette waves that hung just below his jawline. It was longer than you’d ever seen a soldier wear their hair, and surprisingly clean. He seemed to notice you looking, as he reached up to fix it, putting a few stray curls in place.

“Woah.” You said, after what you realised was several seconds of stunned silence. “That’s not regulation.”

There was a sharp intake of breath. Soap burst out laughing.

“Christ, that’s exactly what Ghost said.” Soap chuckled, holding a hand over his face. “You need to spend less time together.”

König seemed a little shy, stepping backwards, hands wringing together. His eyes were darting between the lot of you, never settling on one person.

“I never take my hood off.” He replied, shrugging. “And when I was a colonel, my medical officer knew to look the other way when it came to my hair.”

“It’s amazing.” You breathed, reaching up to try and touch it. He let you, bending down to put his head within your reach. It was so silky and soft. “But what about our medical officers? Didn’t they tell you to cut it?”

There was a pause. Now, it was König’s turn to chuckle.

“Lydia is a lovely and forgiving woman.” He replied.

Soap guffawed, slapping his knee with excitement.

“Jesus. What’d you do, fuck her?!”

“No! No.” König insisted, his eyes nearly popping out of his head. After a moment, he lowered his voice, adding, “… But I am not without my charms.”

Intriguing. You made a mental note to ask him about that at some point. Imagining König of all people trying to smooth talk a medical professional into letting him get away with something as big as this was almost comical.

He stayed there for a moment longer, letting you play with it. When he straightened up, he was gazing down at you. “Do you like it?”

“Like it?” You asked, incredulously. “König, I love it. I love this.”

You cast an eye over them, struggling to control your thoughts. Seeing them in suits was even more a treat than you’d imagined. They looked so put-together, mature and professional. A far cry from the monsters they became in the battlefield. Even Soap looked good, as weird as that felt to think.

“Look at you all.” You smiled, warmth pooling in your gut. “You scrub up well.”

“Alright, enough squawkin’.” Ghost said, moving to one of the sofas and sitting down. “We’ve got a mission to do.”

-

Chapter Text

The ballroom was a grandiose affair, a vast space with parquet flooring and crystal chandeliers. There were large paintings on the walls, a mixture of war scenes and religious imagery. Every inch of this room was packed with expensive decorations – plinths with plants and busts on them, tables with colourful blooming centrepieces, and golden detailing along the walls. Clearly, the retrofitting that had made the front of this building look so bizarre had not infected the rear of the hotel, as this room was untouched by the modern era, aged and classy.

It was packed wall-to-wall with people, throngs of party-goers in suits and ballgowns filling the room. They were gathered by the bar getting drinks, sat at the tables around the sides of the room, and twirling and spinning on the dance floor in the centre. There was a string quartet in one corner, elevated on a platform, playing lilting classical music. It sparked a strange feeling inside you, being around so many people with their faces disguised, knowing that you too had your face hidden. The anonymity was freeing. Maybe that’s what Ghost and König liked about it.

“Stick to the plan.” Ghost muttered to you all, lifting his drink as if he was making a toast. “Remember, we have to talk to ‘em, but we’re still a company. No one stray too far for too long.”

Soap went to drink first, polishing off the last of his champagne.

“Understood.” He said, placing the empty glass down on a nearby table. “I’ll see you shortly.”

With that, he was off. This was Ghost’s plan – for all of you to part and rejoin periodically, trying to find the right balance between information gathering and not looking too eager to pry. Setting off alarm bells here would be a death sentence. You were in the belly of the beast, deep in enemy territory. Milena probably had Konni troops on call, ready at a moment’s notice.

König was the next to act, stepping away from the table, his eyes cast across the room. He seemed to suck in a deep breath before speaking, as if he had to gather himself first.

“I think I just spotted one of the special guests.” He said, giving the two of you a nod. “I will go and attempt conversation.”

This wasn’t his specialty, you supposed. Complex social situations weren’t exactly his forte, nor an area of confidence for him. You could see it as he walked away, the way his shoulders were slightly slumped, how rigidly he was holding his glass. Unlike Soap, he could not disappear seamlessly into the crowd. His height certainly didn’t help, but the horns atop his head made his presence even more obvious as he began walking over to the bar.

Well. No time like the present. You gave Ghost one last nod, before slipping away into the crowd yourself.

-

You’d managed to situate yourself in a group of tech bros, who were currently spitting jargon at each other about whether or not Python was the best programming language to code an AI. You had limited knowledge on the subject, but the dossier you’d been issued had given you just enough information to join in. This was your supposed role in the fake company – lead designer.

“That’s only if you’re trying to encompass image generation.” One of them was saying, a scrawny man in a Venetian style half-mask. “Otherwise, the point is moot.”

“Well, you want to leave your options open.” Someone else replied. This one was a tall man in a Guy Fawkes mask, just like Soap’s. “If you restrict yourself now, then you’ll have trouble later.”

It was probably time to move on. No one had said anything of note yet, and there was a group just a few feet away with one of Milena’s direct reports in it.

That was when your earpiece crackled to life, and a voice came through the radio.

“No luck.” Soap grumbled, voice as clear in your ear as if he was tending right next to you. It almost made you jump. “Three conversations, no room number.”

Then, Ghost’s voice came through. “Me either. Tried to approach the target, but she went into a back room.”

“You gotta get in there.” Soap replied. “I’ve got an idea, but I’ll have to leave the ballroom. Ghost – meet me at the back door with a ciggie?”

God. It was impossible to focus on the conversation you were pretending to be a part of when another was happening in your head. Any more of this, and you’d have to excuse yourself to the bathroom until they shut up.

“Rog’.” Ghost said. “See you in a sec.”

All fell quiet in your ears again. Good. The less distractions, the better. The conversation had moved on, the guests around you now discussing crypto currencies. The man in the Venetian half-mask was clearly way too invested in doge coin.

Just as you were about to interject, a sight caught your eye. A pair of antlers bobbing above the crowd, getting closer and closer.

Your role in this conversation was definitely over.

“You’ll have to excuse me, gentlemen.” You smiled, before stepping away from their little circle. A couple of them raised their glasses as you left, but Venetian Half-Mask was far too busy ranting for anyone to say something.

As soon as you stepped around them, there he was. Glass in hand, striding towards you.

“Hey.” You whispered, moving to a spot that was out of earshot of your new nerdy friends. “What’s up?”

“I thought that seeing as we are alone in here now, we might stick together.” König shrugged, eyes looking over your head and around the room. “We are due for one of Ghost’s ‘regroupings’ anyway.”

You bit your lip, considering the prospect. “He did use the word ‘regroup’ way too much earlier.”

That’s when, as if in cue, your radio suddenly came on. Ghost’s voice played in your ear, a little hushed. “Come in, you two.”

König reacted first, putting a hand to his ear, pretending he was adjusting his mask. “Affirmative. We are together.”

So much for being alone with König. Whatever Ghost and Soap were doing clearly hadn’t taken that long. König placed a hand on your back, gently guiding you into motion. It was as if he knew as well as you did – Ghost was going to use that bloody word again.

“Good.” Ghost said. “Meet me at the bar. Let’s regroup.”

You stifled a chuckle. König shot you a look, a silent glance of amused acknowledgment. He obliged your commanding officer immediately, leading the two of you swiftly over to the bar. Thankfully, it wasn’t that far away from where you had been stood. You got there in no time, finding a stool to perch yourself on.

It took less than a minute for Ghost to arrive, the sight of his shiny metal mask easy to pick out amongst the crowd. When he spotted the two of you, he came right over.

“Alright. Johnny’s sorting the room.” Ghost said, nonchalant as anything. Whatever their plan was, he clearly wasn’t going to elaborate at a crowded public bar. There likely wasn’t a private spot in this whole ballroom. You would just have to trust them, to deal with that lack of information. Ghost continued, too focused on the task at hand. “Now we just have to deal with our little pest problem.”

The bug. He couldn’t say it here, but that’s what he was talking about. It was part of the covert equipment package you’d been given by the armoury, back on base. Everyone had been given one and ordered to hide it on their person. You delved your hand inside your bag, just to check. Thankfully, the bug was exactly where you left it, in the inside pocket. If Soap was dealing with Milena’s room, then all there was left to do was plant the bug on her.

“I haven’t seen our friend all evening.” You replied, shaking your head. Since everyone was wearing masks, locating her in here was going to be like finding a needle in a haystack. “I don’t think any of us have.”

Suddenly, König stiffened up. He tapped you on the shoulder. “You may want to speak for yourself.”

“What?” You turned, following his gaze. At first, you didn’t see anything, just another crowd of masked strangers. It wasn’t until he placed a hand on your head, guiding you to look further to the right, that you spotted her. A woman with short brown hair, wearing a large fluffy coat and a sleek white mask that covered her eyes.

Milena Romanova.

She was further towards the centre of the room than you’d anticipated, standing just off the edge of the dance floor. There was a small crowd gathering with her, watching one particular group of dancers that seemed to be doing a coordinated sort of group dance. König lit up next to you, clapping his hands together.

“Perfect!” He beamed. “It is a Gruppentanz. We must join in.”

Ghost folded his arms. “A what?”

“A Gruppentanz. That is the German word for it, anyway. It is a dance of four pairs that involves swapping partners when the music changes.”

Okay. So not just a ballroom dance in front of everyone, but a fancy one with moves you didn’t know. And König was expecting Ghost, of all people, to dance? It felt preposterous.

“No chance.” Ghost sunk into a stool. Not one part of you was surprised. “I don’t dance.”

“It is the perfect opportunity.” König urged him, his voice hushed. “We will get up close and personal.”

He wasn’t wrong. You couldn’t think of a better excuse to be that close with a target, to be able to slip a bug under the collar or into a pocket. It wasn’t a job that could be done from afar, and any other way of getting close would probably involve direct conversation, which was risky. None of you spoke a word of Russian, so you’d stick out like a sore thumb if you tried.

There was only one problem, however.

You shrugged. “I think it’s a good idea, but I don’t know how to dance like that.”

“I do. I can teach you whilst we wait for the next dance to start.” König got off his stool first, before offering you a hand. “It is easier than it looks.”

You took it, and König helped you get to your feet. Ghost’s eyes followed the two of you closely, though he didn’t make any effort to move. His posture was firmly settled in place, relaxed on his stool, leaning an elbow on the bar. König hooked his arm in yours, gently tugging as if to get you moving.

But you didn’t budge. It just didn’t feel right to split up. Ghost himself had said it earlier. This was a big room, full of enemies. The safest place was together. You fixed him with a pointed stare.

“Not coming?”

Ghost folded his arms. “Like I said. I don’t dance.”

“We are at a ball. That is what a ball is for.” König was tapping his foot impatiently, arm still linked with yours. After a second, he smiled. “Well. We will go and dance, and you can watch us.”

That seemed to spur something within Ghost. He glanced between the two of you for a moment, eyes lingering on your linked arms, before finally, he got to his feet.

“Alright. Fuck.” He groaned, shaking his head in contempt. “Show us the fucking dance.”

König began talking you through the moves as the three of you walked over to the dance floor, joining the small group of people waiting to join the next quadrille. The air was heavier here. The centre of the room was a lot hotter than the outskirts, moisture and sweat making it feel almost muggy. It certainly didn’t help your nerves. At first, you were extremely daunted by König’s long list of instructions, but watching the actual dancers helped it make a little more sense. It was really just one set of moves, repeated over and over again. You kept a close eye on them, practicing the moves as subtly as you could whilst the melody slowly drew to a close.

After the dancers lined up and did their final bow to each other, they cleared the floor.  Your group took their place, lining up in four pairs. König was facing you, to be your first partner. Next to you, Ghost had ended up paired with an older woman, wearing a pink feathered mask. Her greying hair was all trussed up in an updo, the pearls around her neck shining white. She gave him a small smile. To your surprise, he gave her one back.

Milena was at the end of the row, far away from you. Her partner was wearing a shiny blue mask that covered most of his face. If it was someone important from the files, you wouldn’t have a hope of recognising him. Although, you supposed, the swapping of partners meant that you would end up dancing with him eventually, so it was a thought best revisited later.

The music was starting up again. All of your thoughts were concentrated on the moves, trying desperately to remember what König had told you. There were so many eyes all around, so many people to notice if you put a foot wrong and made a fool of yourself. You stepped forwards, and it began. His hand slipped around you, coming to rest on the small of your back, as his other hand grasped yours. You took a hold of his shoulder for stability, though it was a little bit of a reach.

Though König had spent every other second of this event clearly anxious as hell, it was indecipherable now. He took the dance in his stride, confidently taking the lead. You only just remembered the moves, stepping left just in time to avoid getting your foot trodden on.

“Careful, schatz.” He grinned. “Remember, turn left, and then right.”

God, he was infuriatingly good at this. How was he making it look so easy? He was so fluid, practically gliding across the floor.

“Where the hell did you learn to dance like this?” You asked, incredulously. “How are you so good?”

König let out a chuckle. “I was in a similar situation to this one a few years ago. I kept up with lessons afterwards, for fun.”

He was talking about a previous mission, of course. But carrying it on after? The idea that König took regular dance lessons was both absolutely hilarious and completely adorable. But even more hilarious was the far more important question on your mind, the one you couldn’t ask right now – dance lessons where, exactly? At KorTac HQ? Was KorTac supplying them?

Did… did KorTac employ dance instructors?

The second you were out of this ball, you made a mental note to ask him about it immediately. That was too funny to forget.

“I can’t believe you got him to dance.” You mumbled, trying to keep your voice low to avoid being overheard. Ghost was still nearby, just off to your left, gently swaying from side to side with the older woman. Surprisingly, he wasn’t actually that terrible at it. A little stiff, sure, and certainly clunky in comparison to König, but not awful. “And he actually remembers the moves.”

König glanced towards Ghost, a mischievous look in his eye. “Let’s show him one he won’t know.”

With that, König squeezed your hand tight and pulled, twirling you effortlessly around. A blur of the room whipped past your eyes, body fighting to keep balance. When König caught you, he pulled you in close, your hand desperately grasping his lapel.

“Hey!” You squeaked, holding on for dear life. You were relying on him so heavily that he was practically carrying you around the dance floor. “Warn me first!”

“Sorry, schatz.” He chuckled, like he had not a care in the world. His eyes were fixated off to the side, somewhere over your left shoulder. “I’m just having a little fun.”