Ghost's free hand, the one that wasn't holding his rifle, came up to re-adjust the balaclava covering his entire head. The blistering sun was making it hard not to sweat profusely through it and the fabric stuck to his face like a second skin. He was glad he had decided to buzz his hair off a couple weeks ago, otherwise, the heat would've been a lot tougher to handle.
In the narrow gorge, the walls of sandstone shielded him from the harshest rays of the sun, but they also blocked any comforting breeze. Ghost's sunglasses offered some respite to his eyes, shielding them from the blinding glare of the desert.
He moved with silent grace, every step calculated to minimize the noise of his boots disturbing the desert's stillness. Each footfall sent plumes of dust, sand, and dirt into the air, but he took care to make them as soft as possible.
A voice speaks through the silence on Ghost's radio that was clipped to his vest.
"Gold Eagle Actual, Shadow-1 is weapons hot," Graves. Ghost hadn't met the man in person, but knew he was a reliable mercenary Shepard hired to help out with these kinds of missions. The type of missions that involved blowing shit up.
"Copy, Graves. Stand by." Shepard orders calmly. The General then turns his attention to Laswell, "Laswell do we have confirmation?"
"Watcher-1 to Bravo 0-7, you in position?" The woman questions. Ghost doesn't reply right away, hauling himself over a slightly higher elevation in the gorge. God, he wished he could change out his mask for one that wasn't soaked with sweat, but he didn't have the time or privacy to do so. Grabbing his radio, he presses down on the push-to-talk button on his radio.
"Nearly there." Ghost replies, his voice thick and rough from the lack of water he's had ever since he was dropped off in the middle of the desert. His right arm is starting to ache from holding his gun in the same position, so he swaps the rifle to the other arm, stretching the right one to try to get rid of the uncomfortable feeling.
The sound of an incoming helicopter has Ghost pausing, his head tilting up to see where the sound is coming from.
"Got a heli incoming." Ghost radios, staying still as the aircraft passes over him. He doesn't even realize he's holding his breath until the helicopter is out of his sight.
"That's General Ghorbrani," Laswell informs Ghost. He definitely assumed that was the case, but it was nice getting any kind of confirmation for missions like this one.
Ghost moves forward again, not waiting for any instruction to do so.
"Right on time." Shepard comments, sounding mildly pleased, "Now get up there, and let's see what he's up to in the middle of nowhere."
Ghost nodded silently to himself, determination in his every step as he moved forward, leaving a trail of kicked-up dust and grit in his wake. The mission was in full swing now as he got closer to the end of the gorge.
"Ghost, relay when the target is visible," Shepard's voice cut through the desert silence.
Ghost continued his ascent up the hard sandstone ledges, the unforgiving terrain posing no obstacle to his determined advance. As he crested a rise, the expansive sky revealed the camp below. Tents and vehicles came into view, and Ghost adjusted his rifle, preparing to provide crucial intel.
"I'm eyes on," Ghost reported.
"What do you see?" Laswell inquired, her voice laced with anticipation.
"Armed personnel, armor, and hardware... All Russian," Ghost replied, his scope zeroing in on the helicopter that had landed at the camp.
"What the hell are the Russians doing with Ghorbrani?" Shepard's voice was filled with urgency.

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You Have a Heart?: (Soap x Ghost)
Fanfiction(A re-telling of the Modern Warfare 2 campaign) All Ghost had ever known was war. He's sworn to himself never to trust anyone anymore. So when he meets Soap for the first time during an op, he's put off. He doesn't know what the guy wants from him...