The Ghost of Task Force 141 [Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader]

Blood Atop Fresh Snow

Ghosts' eyes darted to you, and while you were unable to make him out other than a dark outline of his figure against the bookshelf, you knew he was looking at you. His unmistakable stare, burning into you. 

"Get the laptop."

Your brows furrowed as you nodded, swiftly, yet quietly, moving towards the pantry. You shoved your knife back into its holster on your calves as you crept across the kitchen. 

You strained your arm as you reached up, desperately fumbling for the button. Your hands swiped around the surface of the wall before clicking the button. 

The familiar shifts and clicks of the wall moving to reveal the rickety steps filled your ears. You practically prayed the enemies lined outside of the cottage couldn't hear. 

As soon as it was half open, you took off down the steps, making haste as you tip-toed down them. 

The laptop, still open from earlier and plugged into the monitors, was still on Price's communication tab. 

You typed out a quick message to Price, the green sickly font appearing as your fingers mashed the right keys. 

'Compromised', was all you were able to type out. You smashed the enter key, before closing the laptop and unhooking it from the cord still jammed into its side. 

Quickly, you tucked the laptop under your arm, securing it under your grip, before making your way up the steps, promptly shutting the door behind you. 

Your surroundings were still silent. Ghost and Soap had moved further in, crouching near the bedroom entrance. You crept towards them, making minimal sounds. Once over the threshold of the bedroom door, Ghost and Soap followed you in. 

The scent of blood filled your nose, completely overwhelming your senses, as you worked your way along the wall. You clutched the laptop tightly, as you felt around in front of you. 

You felt your way over to your duffel bag, and fumbled through it, quickly finding your keyring flashlight. You grabbed it out of one of the side pockets and clicked it on, avoiding shining it on the body in the middle of the room. 

"Handy," Soap muttered, nodding to your small flashlight. 

"Gear up," Ghost grumbled, he stood and walked over to his side of the bed. You wouldn't've even noticed if it hadn't been for the light. His steps made no sound, and his breathing was shallow. 

You turned your attention to the duffel bag, quickly, yet quietly, you dug out your utility belt and other such things. Once done, you tucked your laptop securely between your back-up pairs of clothes and slung it over your back. 

You un-crouched, moving towards to closet with careful steps, and opened it, making sure to keep the doors from creaking. Your gear was folded and set upon each other in stacks, each corresponding to the three of you. Before anything, you slipped on a winter coat, complete with a fluffed hood. Afterwards, you immediately slipped on your vest, packs, helmet and other things, while picking up Soap and Ghosts' equipment. 

You picked up Soaps' helmet, examining it, before tossing it to him. You did the same with Ghosts', as well as their vests and utility belts. 

Once done, you grabbed your SMG and sniper, tucking the SMG onto a slot on your back and holding your sniper in your hands. The casing fit snug between your gloves, as you held it to your chest. 

Your gaze slid over to Soap, who was gearing up himself. Ghost was already done, suited up and idling as he waited for Soap. 

Soap stood, tucking a handgun into its holster at his front and then looking over to the two of you, giving you both a nod.