Call of Desire

23. Prelude

prel·ude
/ˈprelˌyo͞od,ˈprāˌlo͞od/
noun
an action or event serving as an introduction to something more important.

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The five men found themselves in a small, single-engine aircraft, on a straight path towards Moscow. The engine was deafening, and there was no way to verbally communicate with one another. Gaz had been staring out the window since they left the ground. Nikolai, of course, was piloting, and Price sat directly behind him, reading some spy novel. Ghost sat in the third and final seat, Soap leaning against him. 

John clutched his bag of supplies, the cool metal of his shotgun calming him. He shivered, his eyes wide as he stared at his lap.

I don't want to go. I don't want to die. I can't do this. I can't. I can't. I won't. 

Simon placed a gentle hand on John's arm, giving him a reassuring nod. Wrapping an arm around the Scot, Simon pulled himself closer to him. Both men exhaled, trying to relax. John gently took Simon's hand in his own, squeezing softly. Through his mask, Ghost pressed his lips to the side of Soap's head, giving him a reassuring kiss. 

You're gonna be okay, Johnny.

Simon gestured to himself, getting John's attention. He took a deep breath, then gestured for John to do the same. The Scotsman obeyed, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. 

Thank you, Simon. If- When. When we make it back to London, I'll pay you back. 

Squeezing his hand again, Simon wrapped his free arm around John in an attempt to keep him warm. Given the size of the aircraft, there was very little heating. The men leaned into one another, attempting to relax, knowing they wouldn't be able to for the foreseeable future. 

Gaz looked back at the two, glancing between them. His eyes met Ghost's, who stared into his soul. Chuckling to himself, Kyle went back to staring out the window, smiling slightly. He had always been intimidated by Ghost, but seeing him be so caring with Soap the past few days had shown him the dark and mysterious man in a new, brighter light. Seeing his eyes light up and his shoulders relax whenever Soap even spoke was enough to show the softer side of Simon. 

Kyle knew better than to admit these opinions to Simon, however. He knew he wouldn't live long if he told Ghost about how soft he knew the Brit could be. 

Gaz had always known about Price and Nikolai, though. 

Well...

He had walked in on them in Price's office at one point. They weren't doing anything scarring, per se, but Kyle walked in to see Nikolai on Price's lap, his head resting on the Captain's shoulder while Price filled out paperwork. The Russian must have been asleep, because when Kyle opened the door, no man spoke. Price simply stared at him, deadpan. 

Days later, though, Price finally spoke to the younger man about it. As it turned out, Nikolai and Price had been together since they first met. Nikolai was a soldier in the Russian army, but after he expressed dissatisfaction with Russia and its policies, he was recruited as an informant for MI6. 

On his first mission, Nikolai had been assigned to work with the Captain. They had both unknowingly fallen for one another and one glance lead to a drink, which lead to several dates, and eventually, the men came together and talked about their feelings for one another. 

Gaz, of course, had to coax all of this information out of Price. He didn't mind, though, and neither did the Captain. 

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Nikolai switched off the engines as they neared their destination. The group was only ten minutes away, and Nik didn't want to risk anyone hearing the plane as they flew in. 

The sudden silence caused unease in everyone. 

John sat up, searching the window for some sign of life, some sign that they had been discovered. He saw nothing but darkness. 

Glancing around the small cabin of the aircraft, Simon stayed calm, collected. Externally, anyway. His insides bubbled with anxiety. 

Gaz bit the inside of his bottom lip, counting the bullets in the magazine of his X12 pistol. 

Jaw clenched, Price stared at the floor. Beforehand, he had convinced himself that everything would be fine. They would get to Moscow with no problems. 

But now? 3,000 feet above the ground, nearing the small abandoned airport in the middle of Russia? 

He wasn't so sure. 

"We're landing in five. Get ready to get out and get moving." Price stated.

Exhaling, Simon dragged the duffel bag out from under his seat. 

"I got something for you," He mumbled, glancing at the Scotsman beside him. 

"Oh?"

Simon pulled an insulated grey coat from it, tentatively handing it to Soap. "I didn't want you to get cold," he muttered, digging around in the duffel bag, and finding the rifleman's gloves he had bought. "Here."

"For me?" John smiled widely, wrapping the coat around himself, and cuddling into the warmth. 

Ghost smiled behind his mask, blushing. "You like it?

"Yes! It'll keep me warm, along with the very nice gloves." Rifleman's gloves have all but two fingers protected. The thumb and forefinger remain uncovered, to enhance the ability to feel the pressure of the trigger against his skin. Soap immediately put them on, grinning at the soft material. 

"Thank you, Ghost." 

"Anytime, Johnny." The men beamed at one another, enjoying these last moments of peace. 

"Also, um..." Ghost hesitated. 

"Yeah?"

"The next few weeks are going to be rough." he quietly stated, only loud enough for Soap to hear. "If you get scared, just hold my hand, alright?"

John, instead of responding, seized Simon's hand, squeezing softly.

"Johnny? You alright? It's just us, we've not landed yet. What's wrong?" Simon's eyes searched John's face. 

"I'm- well... Promise you won't make fun of me?"

"Of course, Johnny." Ghost assured him, watching John move his gaze to the floor. 

"I'm scared, Simon," Soap exhaled. 

"I'm scared of losing you." 

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Whaaaaat? Two chapters within a week of one another? No, surely not. Surely not.