a ghosts task, SIMON RILEY X OC

a new meeting

Note: I want to thank everyone for their support on my story, for all the new readers, not only does the story get way better and twisted but also my writing! So please do not be discouraged to read further because I have became way better!

For everyone reading this, I am sad to announce I have discontinued this book as for now, the storyline became a chaos and I want to encourage everyone to start reading my newer and better story, SIR SIMON RILEY made by me <3

I hope everyone can understand where this descision came from and I hope everyone will enjoy my new story 🤍

The army has been my sanctuary, rescuing me from a plethora of troubles I thought I could escape back in South Africa. Seeking refuge from my mother and uncle, I was haunted by a father I never knew—my mother claimed he had "died." Life at home was a harrowing tale of distress and trauma, driving me into the arms of the army and a one-way ticket to London, my beacon of hope.

During a few weeks off after being promoted to staff sergeant, engrossed in reading "The 48 Laws of Power," a call disrupted my solitude.

"Sergeant Kymera, delightful to speak to you again! How are you?" I smiled as I conversed with Sir Price, who had shown immense fondness for me since I joined the army. Our camaraderie was unbreakable.

"I'm well, sir. Just ordering some food. How's Cuba?" His sigh echoed through the line. "Not good, Kymera. We can't track the guy, and I think I need backup for this job."

His hint intrigued me. "Sir? Are you suggesting you need me, or should I arrange backup?"

A brief pause ensued. "Affirmative. I need you on this mission," he declared.

"Sir, I'm just a sergeant. I've never worked on task forces..." I hesitated, unsure of my readiness.

He chuckled softly. "That's precisely why I need you. We're aware of your history, and you know Cuba like the back of your hand."

His words struck a chord. When I worked in Cuba previously, it took me four months to comprehend every inch, from the streets to the farms. "When's the next flight to Cuba?"

"Three hours from now. Prepare yourself; the team is mostly composed of men... well, perhaps entirely." His revelation surprised me.

"Wait, am I the only woman on this mission? You're not recruiting more women?" I queried.

He laughed heartily. "Oh, Kymera. You're one of our most specialized women in this field since 2014. You're the black widow of the British army."

Price's nickname for me, "black widow," stemmed from his fondness for a Marvel movie, though it wasn't my code name. I preferred Lilith, reflecting my "demonic allure."

I meticulously packed my bags, learning from past experiences looking disheveled. Boots, cargo pants, shirts, and even some normal clothing and dresses were included—necessities for potential city outings.

Nemesis, a Cuban tracker and Sir Harold Leviv's daughter, was crucial. Her assistance was indispensable in retrieving a valuable item, the white diamond.

Almost forgetting my cat, I rushed to Miss Carlito, my neighbor, who graciously cared for my feline companion during my absence. At the airport, a familiar face greeted me.

Soap, a familiar figure from headquarters, nodded at me. "Soap, a pleasure. I go by Lilith."

He smiled faintly. "I'm aware of you; your dedication to your job precedes you. Welcome to the team."

Guiding me into the aircraft, he briefed me, "Could you tell me about the mission?"

Looking outside, Soap began, "The Federation is expanding its influence in Latin America. Diego Almagro is our target, corrupting governments. Our tracker alerted us; he's likely in Cuba." He handed me Almagro's photo.

Understanding the gravity of the situation, Soap advised, "Get some rest; we're starting early tomorrow."

"Make yourself presentable; we're landing in 15 minutes. Tidy up your hair and, if you wear it, some makeup," Soap woke me.

Grateful for my silk-pressed hair, I quickly applied minimal makeup—mascara, concealer, and lip gloss. Soap entered as I tied my boots.

"Ready? We're landing now," he informed. I nodded, placing my sunglasses on my head. Feeling the plane's thud upon landing, I disembarked, encountering seven men, including Shepard. 'Never let anyone in,' my mantra from home. I was Kymera, a psychology enthusiast who adored city trips, cooking, and travel, and at work, I was Lilith—confident, lethal, and terrifying—a mask I wore.

Approaching the men, a figure caught my eye—a man wearing a skull mask, his intense gaze fixed upon me. His identity was obscured, and his eyes appeared as dark as a void. Steeling myself, I addressed the group.

"Hello, everyone. I'm Sergeant Lilith. I'm here at Sir Price's request to help capture Diego. I know Cuba extensively and am willing to assist anyone." The men nodded, except for one who scoffed.

"And who might you be?" I inquired, scrutinizing his tall, muscular stature.

"Ghost," he replied, his tone subdued. My signature smirk and raised eyebrows greeted his response.

"Alright, Ghost. Feel free to laugh; it doesn't bother me," I remarked, maintaining my composure.

He nodded, then walked away. Sir Price intervened, "Kymera, I hope you can assist the team. Let's return to base."