Four Spirits, One Soul

Cold Heart, Silent Mind

TW: mentions of blood, cursing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

POV: reader character, Poltergeist

The helicopter shuddered as it flew, roaters so loud it's hard to hear myself think. Leaning forward in my seat, the two greenies strapped in the chairs opposite to me flinched, watching me with wide eyes. Good. Better to recognize danger then to become complacent. I flipped through the file I was given on the team I was being assigned to: Team 141. The first page briefed me on the leader, Lieutenant General Hershel Von Shepherd III, or better referred to as General Shepherd. Nothing majorly impressive. 

Continuing to flip through the manilla folder, I read up on the rest of the team. Under Shepherd was Captain John Price, called simply Price by his men. Known for his loyalty to his team, he's the team's field commander and their main pillar of support in command. Reading further down, I came upon the rest of the team. Captain John "Soap" MacTavish, the group's main leader in the field and on missions, is commonly the front-line man. Often teamed with Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley as his "over the shoulder protector". Ghost is mostly known for his skull mask and intimidating stature. 

Under the two was Sergeant Gary "Roach" Sanderson and Sergeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick. Roach was known for being hard to hit, and even harder to hurt. Gaz, however, if the notes written here by Price were any indication, was the group's "child". He's often the one everyone silently protects. Interesting. Then there was Nikoli, the group's trusted pilot, former imformer for the SAS. A light above my head started blinking, indicating 30 seconds from landing. I let a quiet sigh out, closing the folder and grabbing my single duffle bag of supplies. 

When we landed the greenies were the first out of the heli, trying to put space between me and them. I was glad for my masks, it kept them from seeing my smirk. I headed towards the biggest tent in the training camp I was to be posted at, having been told it's where I would meet everyone. Everyone, except Shepherd. He was too busy sifting through information regarding the newest threat: Russian missiles being shipped to various cartels. Walking in, I could sense everyone's attention turn to me. I met everyone's stares with a practiced stern and "lets get this over with" look, which made everyone but three people look away. Based on the skull mask, the one hiding in the shadows was Ghost. His demeanor didn't physically change, but I could sense him sizing me up. They all were. 

"Seriously? This is the infamous 'Poltergeist'?!" The one in the mohawk spoke up. He had a distinct scottish accent that I didn't particularly care for. Price, wearing his fishing hat that I was told he never wasn't wearing, sighed. "Yes Soap, this is Poltergeist. Now behave." Soap rolled his eyes, gesturing to me as he exclaimed, "Yer aff yer heid if you think I'm gonna entrust my life to someone who looks like he hasn't worked out a day in his life!" I let a soft chuckle out, knowing I had made a good decision in my wardrobe when I had chosen to wear a black turtleneck sweater and basic black jeans. Hadn't bothered with shoes, they would've slowed me down running to get on the heli. 

Based on the look Ghost had, he'd heard my chuckle. So had Soap and Price, both men turning to face me with a weirded out and surprised look. Tilting my head a bit, I spoke for the first time that day, careful to keep my accent out of my words, "I could easily lift you, Scot. Judging on appearances gets people killed, would've thought someone with your experience would've learned that by now." I saw Roach suppress a laugh out of the corner of my eye, so I knew my joke had landed. Soap, on the other hand, seemed offended. He did shut his mouth tho, for which I was grateful. Price, once he got control of himself after laughing, waved me closer to show me the map of the camp. No need for it, I already had it memorized, simply formalities.

Once that was over with, he had Soap lead me to the tent I would be sharing with him and Ghost. Soap, not one to pout for long apparently, yapped the entire way there. He opened the door, before gesturing to the right hand side of the room, which was bare save for a cot and a complementary nightstand. Setting my bag down, I set up my computer and arsenal of knives. Soap looked on with seemingly growing amazement as I pulled out more knives.