𝕮𝖆𝖙𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆 𝕲𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖙 | Simon 'GHOST' Riley

𝕿𝖜𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖞 𝕾𝖎𝖝

Patched up and recovering, you sat in an empty bar with the rest of the team, squeezed in between Gaz and Soap.

Thank god there was a bar right next to the safe house.

The television played quietly.

"Officials are saying a power surge is to blame for an explosion over downtown Chicago last night due to severe winds leaving thousands of residents in the dark."

You scoffed, tipping back the whiskey in your glass.

"Electricity is expected to be restored by this evening. In other news..."

"CIA shit." Price said.

Laswell smiled, "Hmm...creative writing."

"I'll never tell."

"AQ...Iran..."

"Cartels...

You hummed, "don't forget the Russians."

"Shepherd...Shadow...they got past us." Laswell sighed, looking sadly into her drink.

Looking to your right, you glanced past Soap, drowning out the conversation of your brother and handler. Ghost looked straight ahead, picking at the label stuck to the table in front of him.

He'd not spoken a word to you since the mission.

Barely even looked in your direction.

Soap coughed next to you, bringing your attention to him. Your saddened eyes filled his face with empathy, and from under the table, he gave your free hand a squeeze.

"Kate- this is over." Price's voice got the attention of the rest of you.

"No, it's not."

You sat up, spinning on your stool to face her, "What do you mean, it's not?"

"They're working with someone new."

"Who?" Price asked.

Laswell reached into her pocket, pulling out a photograph. It was handed around the table, each of you taking a good look before passing it along. 

"We don't know his name." she said.

Price shook his head, "He's not new."

The boys wore the same look; anger mixed with shock. You and Laswell had the same confused look, you not having recognised the man in the image.

"Who is he?" you asked.

Price leaned in close to Laswell, "Makarov."

Laswell nodded, pulling out a tablet.

She showed you everything she had found from her research, and everything she had on Shepherd. 

He'd put a hit out on the entire team, and none of you were safe anymore.

Before it could be traced, Laswell was able to take a large sum from the reserve funds in the CIA, and she had used it to secure a private hostel in Amsterdam, where you were to stay low for as long as possible.

The screeching of a chair halted the conversation, as Ghost stood up, storming out of the bar, slamming the door behind him. 

Your mouth dropped open, looking at the men around you. They looked just as confused as you, eyes trained on the door as it flapped back and forth.

Before anyone could say anything, you placed your glass down, quietly following after him. Price grabbed your hand to stop you, but you offered him a reassuring smile, and shook off his grip, walking out of the door.