Frank Woods x Reader

Sixteen

A strange feeling tied your throat as you walked down the corridor, Woods by your side. It felt like the air you were breathing was slowly crawling through your body to corrupt every single cell inside.

A cold shiver made you shake.

Woods wasn't thrilled either.

His gaze was as dark as it could be. His thick eyebrows were knitted together while deep wrinkles were showing on his forehead. He wasn't angry, but disturbed.

His words had struck a nerve for the both of you.

And it did made you wonder.

If you two would stop fighting, what would be left?

There was nothing between you anymore excerpt bitter tasting memories and fights. Those endless fights. They were pointless, you knew that as much as Frank did.

And yet.

It was impossible to stop.

Because if you stopped there would be nothing left that connected you with him. He'd fade from your life and leave a hole that could never be filled.

"You can handle this?", Woods suddenly asked.

Torn from your thoughts, you looked at him.

Icy blue met darkened (E/C).

His eyebrows rose and for a moment the expression on his face softened.

"I'll manage.", you nodded and turned to the door to knock.

But he grabbed your hand before you could announce yourself.

Confused, you frowned.

"When you're in trouble.", he said, his fingers wrapped tightly around your hand. "Do the sign."

With turned your gaze away.

"I don't remember it.", you tried to free yourself.

But his grip tightened.

"Yes you do. And I know you do."

"I don't."

"Stop fucking around, we both still know it. It's a long laugh, one stamp to the ground and then you apologise loud enough so I can hear it through the door."

"It's three stamps.", you bit your tongue.

An annoyed sigh got stuck in your throat.

Satisfied, he smirked and let you free again.

"I know.", Woods knocked.

On the other side, someone moved.

Steps sounded.

The door opened a crack wide and the target appeared.

For a second, he eyed you before looking at Woods.

"He stays outside.", the man demanded.

You put on a friendly smile and nodded.

"If that makes you more comfortable.", you offered him a hand.

He shook it.

It was a firm handshake, you noticed, not hesitant nor shivering. That man was confident. Quite unusual for someone in his position.

If you remembered correctly, he was supposed to falter in his believes. In that case it would have made a lot more sense for him to be nervous, undecided. But he wasn't showing any signs of the pressure that came with betraying a government that once was his life's essence.

You exchanged a quick glance with Woods.

Unbothered, he shrugged and walked a few steps away from the door to sit down on a bench.

Of course he didn't notice the strange behaviour. He wasn't trained for that.

If you were cynical, you'd have said he also wasn't good in noticing emotions at all. But you swallowed that thought.

With a sigh, you rolled your eyes and entered the room.

The door fell shut.

"Please take a seat.", the man pointed at an armchair.

He had a thick Russian accent, not surprising for someone who was a high tier in Perseus game of power. But he wasn't Russian.

At least not genetically.

Judging from his looks, you would have guess he was Middle Eastern. He wore a pitch black suit, only the tie matched the colour of your dress. It was a very particular shade of red that made your stomach twist and turn while looking at it.

As soon as you sat down in the chair, a cold shiver crawled down your spine.

Something felt off.

Immediately, you foot twitched to start the signal.

But you forced yourself to stay calm. This wasn't your first job and it wouldn't be your last.

"You wanted to talk to us.", you flashed him a smile and leaned towards the side to appear more casual.

He frowned.

"Us?", his head tilted to the side.

"America."

"Ah, yes. Americans. I did wanted to talk to you."

"May I ask why?"

"Didn't the other guy tell you?"

You frowned.

"What other guy?", you asked.

A shadow crawled over his face, but it quickly disappeared again. He sat down as well, casual and not tense at all.

It felt like he was trying to trick you into thinking there was nothing to be worried about. But exactly that made the hairs in the back of your neck stand up straight.

He cleared his throat. His eyes jumped up to the ceiling.

You followed his gaze.

Nothing to be seen.

"You're not the first contact that I met.", he said. "Or is your name Mason?"

You shook your head.

"No.", your grip on the armrest tightened. "Mason is waiting outside."

The man's eyes slimmed.

"That... is interesting.", he shifted in his seat and sat up straight to offer you an envelope.

But before you could take it, he pulled back again.

"I risk a lot by giving you this.", he said, eyes firmly locked with yours.

With a slim smile, you tilted your head.

"We are aware that this is a hard decision to make.", you nodded. "But rest assured that America offers all the safety you'd wish for, in case you decide to side with us."

"That risk must be payed well."

"Money isn't part of our usual procedure. But I am sure if that is what you're looking for, we can arrange something."

He shook his head and let out a mocking sound.

"I'm not betraying my country for money."

Something in the back of your brain tingled.

Alarmed, you leaned back in your chair and raised your chin to eye him for a moment.

"What would you want then?", you asked, making it obvious that he was starting to appear suspicious.

Again, he shifted in his seat.

At first, you through it was some sort of signal, so that hidden soldiers could use the element of surprise.

But nothing happened.

"I want to see the west burn.", the man said and pulled a gun.