Capture or Kill

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'You're wheels-up in five.'

"Roger." Ghost's feet thud against the pavement as he walks toward the helicopter. He can see other members of his squad, some standing and talking while others hurry from place to place loading supplies into various military vehicles. A Humvee pulls up in front of him filled with personnel.

"Marines are loading in now. You and the Sergeant are leading way on this." Shepard continues. Ghost pauses briefly.

"The Sergeant?" Ghost asks questioningly.

"Soap MacTavish."

As Ghost scanned the crowd for the last time, a Humvee parking itself in front of him caught his eye. A fairly burly man in full tactical gear jumps out of the back with several other troops, but instead of heading for any of the many aircraft getting ready for departure, he spots Ghost. The guy had a shit-eating grin on as he approached Ghost.

This must've of been MacTavish.

"Right then," Soap tapped Ghost on the shoulder in a friendly gesture. "Gonna get ourselves a win, yeah, LT?" Soap smiled broadly.

This guy seemed like a fucking joke.

"Save ya a seat, sir..." With a nod of his head, Soap then turns around and heads towards the same chopper Ghost was going to be on.

Ghost watched him go with a frown. This guy was an idiot. Stupid and full of himself. He was going to be dead by nightfall if he was lucky, wounded or captured at worse. Why bother sacrificing good men just to get this clown through the fight?

"Fucking hell..." Ghost mutters in disbelief.

"Ghost- you copy?" Shepard.

"Yes sir." He all but sneers. The General was going to be the death of him.

"Any issues?" Shepard asks, and Ghost could almost hear the way his eyebrow raised.

"Negative, sir. Out here."

Ghost steps forward to the helicopter, its blades whirring over their heads. He could feel every beat of the machine in his chest, in his bones, as he climbs aboard. The chopper is packed with soldiers, all of them packing weapons and wearing their gear. They were all prepared for this mission.

He takes a seat in the back, not too far from where Soap had sat. The man was still grinning from ear to ear, his eyes glimmering with excitement. Ghost had to admit, he was starting to get annoyed by the guy. They were going to be facing real danger, and Soap didn't seem to have a care in the world.

As the helicopter takes off, Ghost looks out the window at the landscape below. The sun is setting, casting an eerie glow over the desert. He tries to focus on the mission.

The target was a high-value terrorist, one who had eluded the military for years. But this time, they had him. They knew exactly where he was hiding, and they had a plan to take him out.

Hassan wasn't making it out of this without zip ties around his wrists or a bullet through his skull.

------

"Ghost, we're in position." The voice on the other end of the radio sounded calm and collected. Ghost adjusted his vest and zipped up the heavy black bag he was carrying before turning to face all the men behind him.

"Bravo team is offloading here. Alpha team is staying onboard to land downrange." His deep voice boomed through the cargo area as he walked along the middle of the helicopter's middle bench.

"...Remember, we want Hassan alive, but this is capture or kill," Ghost said, adjusting his fingers on his rifle. All of the soldiers inside looked tense and some seemed like they didn't want to be there, dragged into another mission that wasn't a guaranteed win for either side. Ghost's eyes locked on MacTavish's a couple of times from across the aisle from him on the flight over here, but he didn't want to say anything with so many people watching.

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