Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Two

Unsure what to do, the two units of you exchanged a glance.

Sounds filled your ears.

The other side of the squad seemed to be confused as well.

"Watcher.", you called.

Someone moved on the other end of the line.

People exchanged a few whispered words.

"Listening.", he answered.

"I know this is a strange turn of events, but the plan stands. We push."

"Are you sure?"

"Affirmative. Move up."

You rose from the ground again and merged back into the shadows to walk around the damaged door and into the room on the other side.

The other two followed, even though there was doubt written all over their faces.

"100...", Watcher was audibly unsettled. "This is not the mission."

You rolled your eyes.

"No arguing.", you curled your lips and took a position that made it possible to aim at two targets at once. "Identity confirmation. Do we have cartel on our hands?"

Again, the other end of the line fell silent.

The sound of keys being pressed on a keyboard send a wave of pleasant goosebumps over your arms.

"Intel can confirm that these targets are of cartel origin.", Watcher confirmed.

"Do we have authority?", your finger was already on the trigger.

There was no need to ask.

Cartel members were about as liked as terrorists and Russians amongst the authorities. Shooting them would have little to no consequences.

But as smart as you were you knew that it was better to ask and have a few witnesses who could testify that you got information first before taking the first shot.

That way, the protocol looked nice and clean and nobody could give you shit for it.

"1-100, do you copy?", Watcher asked.

You leaned back to have better aim.

"I'm listening.", a smile already found its way to your lips.

The pressure on the trigger grew.

The first resistance pushed back.

"We have execute authority."

"Sound.", you pulled the trigger.

The bullet took two within a heartbeat.

Like sacks of wet sand, they dropped to the ground.

A few moments passed.

All hell broke loose.

Immediately, men jumped behind walls and vehicles.

The sound of shots being fired tore the night apart.

Bullets rained down on the three of you.

With a frightened expression on his face, the medic threw himself to the ground and covered his head with both hands.

"Fucking grass!", you rolled your eyes and raised the barrel of your rifle to take out one of the suicidal maniacs that tried to run your position.

A gush of blood splattered over your face.

The smell of something burned was in the air.

Spanish words were screamed.

Your Spanish wasn't good but you understood that something or rather someone of importance had to be protected.

A group of people retreated behind the lines of the cartel. They headed straight for a vehicle that was parked at the entrance of the village.

You jumped up and pushed forward.

"Watcher, do you copy?", you asked and jumped over a wall. "I need you to track that vehicle. Don't let it get away!"

"Watcher copies. It's marked by satellites."

"Keep the rest busy, I'll follow."

Understood, sending reinforcement your way.

As if lightning had struck you, you chased across the battlefield.

Bullets tried to bite your heels.

You could feel how they missed your face by mere inches. The air got warmer.

Everything was stuffy and dry.

With every step you took, your feet sunk into the soft ground and made it harder to not get trapped.

Wheels started turning.

A huge cloud of dust filled the area.

"Fuckin' Jesus!", you cursed and threw a tracker at the engine hood.

It stuck. A small, red light lit the way.

With bated breath, you threw yourself to the ground again and raised your rifle.

Your finger already applied pressure to the trigger.

The light turned.

The car moved already.

You knew that, once they got out the gates, there was no way to follow quick enough without loosing them.

This was a game against time and it looked like you were about to loose it.

Concentrated, you narrowed your eyes and aimed for the light in the middle of the sand storm.

One shot, that's all you had. Either it would hit or this mission turned a failure.

People always said that there was a first for everything, but you preferred not to put the first failed mission on your record that day.

You pulled the trigger.

Engine sounds drowned the rage of the battle.

The car turned in a circle.

It sounded as if it lost control.

All at once, you were swallowed by a thick veil of sand and dust.

Immediately, you pulled your mask on your nose and covered your eyes with the goggles that you kept on your helmet for emergencies.

The dark night fell even darker.

"Watcher, you copy?", you asked while squatting on the ground in a position of defence.

Silence.

Not even the car seemed to run anymore.

All there was to be heard were people screaming in Spanish in the distance.

"Watcher is down, Overwatch is listening.", another voice answered over the radio.

A soft curse left your lips.

"Overwatch, push the lines to my position. I need reinforcement. Car's down."

"How many people inside?"

"Unsure. Assume the worst. Confirm identity for me once they are out."

"Roger that, 100. Overwatch out."

Slowly, very slowly, you dared to approach the car while staying hidden in the cloud of sand.

This was your only advantage.

One hasty move and everything would blow to shits.

Car doors swung open.

Men jumped out.

Someone cursed in Spanish.

You dug behind the car to risk a glance.

There was a guy, armed up to the nines. He was tall, yet seemed strangely well dressed for an occasion like this.
Somehow, he seemed familiar.

"Eyes on the target.", you whispered over the radio. "Confirm identity."

"Overwatch confirming identity. Hector Gasias."

Your eyebrows rose in surprise.

"Las Almas cartel?"