John expected many things from his newest mission. But seeing the woman he was ordered to kill over a decade prior, now on his own squad, was not one of them.
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This can be read as either an x reader (No use of Y/N) or an OC. Whilst the main charact...
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CHAPTER EIGHT PICCADILLY
Chapter Warnings: Swearing, mention of imprisonment, use of weapons; guns, blood, explosions, mentions of war, and death.
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Her boots barely made a sound when she stepped over the lifeless body of a hostile. The darkness settled upon her as she stalked out of the room, only the light shine of the moon lighting the way ahead.
The building was damp and cold, forcing her mask to be drawn over the bridge of her nose as the strong smell of growing mould invaded her senses. She would have coughed if the circumstances were different, but right now every sound she made – no matter how small and quiet – became a life-threatening risk.
Stepping out into the creaky corridor, she was careful to step only on the least rotting-like panels. Yet despite her efforts, the old wood still creaked under her weight as she moved along the highest floor in the building. Gently, she pushed open the door to one of the only rooms she had not yet inspected and moved in with her gun at the ready.
The laser attached to her barrel moved erratically around the run-down walls, but in the end, the room turned out to be empty. Not a soul in sight, with only her heavy, yet controlled breathing reaching her ears.
She let out a sharp breath and turned to walk back out, only to be met with the bewildered expression of a young man. He looked afraid but was quick to lift his gun and aim it her way.
Unfortunately for him, she was faster. Grabbing the barrel of his gun, she pulled him into the room and kicked him to the floor. He let out a pained groan, and she almost felt bad when she stood above him with her weapon raised before ultimately slamming the back of her gun against his head.
He went out like a light; his eyes closed, and arms went limp, his gun falling by his side with a loud thud. The sound was startling, and she turned still above his body, listening to any sounds within the building.
Seconds and minutes ticked by, and when no shuffle, no creek, and whisper reached her, her shoulders deflated. The tension left her body before she began to move along the cold corridors to check the remaining areas for any hostiles who might have still resided in the building.
She found no-one. The building was empty.
Clicking on button on the side of her comms, she spoke, "Building C is secure."
"Copy," John Price's voice reached her through the earpiece, "Wiz, how copy?"
"B's secure," Southwick replied, "I'm working on the security. You know, for how shit this place looks, their computer system's pretty good. But with my equipment, there's nothing I can't get into."
"Alright," The captain hummed, "No-Face, get on the roof."
Her brows creased, but she did as asked anyway, "Roger."
