killshot | simon riley ✓

• Chapter 4 •

„Oh, fuck!" a yelp left her lips as she jumped back, avoiding getting shot, not like the poor Bravo in front of her, bullets colliding into him.

„I'm hit!" he yelled, scurrying away from the door where bullets rained on them, worry rising inside her as she looked his way. He collapsed on the floor, clutching his chest.

„Go check on him, I'll take care of it," Soap instructed, pulling a flashbang off his vest, ready to throw it inside the room. With a quick nod to each other, he threw the flashbang, it bouncing back from the doorframe with a dull clang, going off inside, blinding the AQ inside.

This was her queue to run across the hallway, sliding beside the fallen soldier on her knees, her hand ready on her radio to request a medkit for him.

„Where are you hit?" she asked, her eyes quickly glancing over the critical parts of his body. Mostly because it was dark, but she didn't see any blood.

„It got me in the plate," he groaned, motioning to his chest where it hit him. A relieved sigh escaped her lips, tapping his shoulders twice as some type of comfort. She wasn't the best at ensuring that people were alright, mostly because she had little to no patience and zero social skills. The only things she was good at were lying, stealing, and making jokes.

A single shot being fired indicated that Soap had terminated the threat, soon emerging from the very room he chucked a flashbang in.

„You two good?" he asked, his eyes wandering over the man to Rora, both of them nodding their heads.

„There's one there," the Bravo cocked his head towards the other side of the balcony, the two sergeants moving soundlessly towards where he motioned, Rora leading in front.

Just as she came around the corner, she saw an AQ soldier loading up another round of RPG, ready to fire, but as he noticed them, it was already too late for him. His pathetic attempt to reach for his handgun was almost sad as Rora fired two shots, one in the chest and one in the head, his lifeless body collapsing on the dirty floor. She felt no remorse.

„Ghost, enemy rocket's down," Soap informed, already stepping over the still-warm body. The woman carefully stepped over the puddle of blood that grew bigger and bigger with every second, following behind MacTavish.

„Solid copy. Good work."

Rora's eyes wandered over to the crash site, hoping that there will be still some lives left they could save.

The duo strolled down the narrow hallway leading up to a beat-up door, a man's voice echoing down the hall. Unlike the other AQs they came across, this voice spoke in English, taking Rora off-guard.

Soap shoved open the door with the barrel of his gun, opening it to a scene that was much more triggering to Rora than she guessed it would be.

A weeping woman was shielding a man with her own body, her cries being the only sound next to the quiet male voice, grief tugging at her heart. The woman jerked her head up, her eyes meeting with Rora's as she yelled something unintelligible, reaching over the motionless body to grab a gun, ready to fight them.

Soap didn't hesitate to shoot two bullets into her.

There was a twinge of pain in her heart as she looked at the couple, both died next to each other. It reminded her of one of the ends her life could've taken if she would decide against her better judgment. She shook off the pain quickly enough for Soap not to notice anything as he walked up to a laptop, a video playing on it.

The male voice came from it, none other than their target, Hassan Zyani holding a speech of some sort, encouraging his people to take revenge.

„Ghost, we're secure. Negative on Hassan," Soap said in the comms, his voice more irritated this time, his eyes not leaving the screen of the laptop.