DECODE ~ GHOST [Editing]

14| Airport

Following the death of my fiancé, I spent a lot of time by myself. I stayed on base with the RAF, working from their mini medical centre. I learnt a lot about clinical medicine, and you know what, not having to worry about what was over my shoulder all the time was nice. It was something I could actually get used to. The other medics I worked with, one being an RAF Combat Surgeon from Inverness, were all accommodating and patient whenever I got spooked at sudden sounds.

The surgeon from Inverness was nicknamed 'House' for her abrupt bedside manner but her precision when identifying sicknesses and injuries. She was pretty too, slightly taller than me, jet black hair that looked blue in sunlight, she had dark brown eyes that resembled the colour of burnt wood. I wonder, if I wasn't so battle-hardened, if people would consider me to be pretty too.

We'd worked alongside each other in the emergency room, our abilities to think on our feet were unparalleled, which made us work so much better together. The only issue was, and I mean this is my only issue, was that I was starting to dream of a life outside of the SAS, outside of the military. It was just so appealing to not worry about people wanting to hurt or kill me or capture me.

Deep down, I know I can't leave. Not because I don't want to, because trust me, I do, but because Task Force 141 have become my family, and in the words of Lilo and Stitch, my Ohana. Which means nobody gets left behind, or forgotten, and it also meant I couldn't leave 141 behind. At the end of the day, they were the closest thing I had to a family, they'd been there for me through thick and thin and my darkest days.

"Fury?" House asked.

I looked across at her, her hand extended towards me with her black manicure reflecting the harsh lighting of the medical bay, "Sorry, I zoned out a bit," I awkwardly laughed.

She looked up at me, her eyes laced with concern, "You okay?" she asked.

"Mhmm."

"Pass me the tweezers," she commanded, and I looked at the tray of instruments sat to my right. I picked up the tweezers and handed them to her, "Cheers, big ears," she joked.

Despite out ranking me, being a higher rank than me, Ghost and Price combined, she didn't hold it over anyone. In fact, she was the nicest Squadron Leader I'd met so far. She always made time for the non-commissioned ranks, asking them of ways she could improve, and I'm pretty certain she was only maybe 26. Aside from that, she was pretty cool.

"Bless you big nose," I joked back, and listened as the tannoy announcement started up from the building next to ours.

Flight 141 to Chicago now boarding. It struck uncertainty in my heart as I recognised the number of the flight, my task force, and I wondered if it actually was them. Price had mentioned something about 'finishing this all off' in the United States, but I didn't know if it meant he'd go to Chicago of all places.

I looked over at House, who looked back at me, "Sergeant, you're dismissed, I'll finish this off for you," she smirked knowingly. Of course she was aware of the circumstances leading to my medical restriction. Everyone here was.

I didn't think twice at her words.

My feet started to move towards the door, keeping a strong pace as I pushed myself over the sun-scorched tarmac in my scrubs. I had to be a bit quicker than this, it would be absolutely embarrassing if I missed their departure because I decided to take care of my ankle. Speaking of, it was pretty much fixed, I'd been treated for the sprain when we returned to the UK, and I'd been given some exercises to complete which would help me ease the joint back into commission.

So, I was pretty much good to go when it came to sprinting. And I did.

I set off into a sprint across the road, my lungs heaved for breath as I forced myself to run quicker than I ever think I had.