Two men stood on the runway, watching as a plane landed and crept slowly closer to them. The taller of the two ran his fingers through his comb-over and scratched at his short beard. "¿Cómo está tu cabeza, Rudy?- How's your head, Rudy?"
The shorter man, Rudy, shrugged. "Será mejor cuando atrapemos a este hijo de puta.- It'll be better when we catch this fucker."
"Tú me estás diciendo... - You're telling me..." The first man stepped forward as the tail of the plane opened and two other men walked out.
Of the two new men, the younger one spoke first. "Alejandro!"
"Sergeant MacTavish." He grabbed the young man's hand and shook it firmly.
"Call me Soap."
Alejandro turned his gaze to the man behind the Sergeant with a trace of an intrigued smile. "Lieutenant... Laswell says to call you Ghost."
"Actually," interrupted Soap. "I believe he prefers to be called-"
"THAT'LL DO." Ghost's gaze was as hard as his voice, teeth bared under his mask. Soap was cocky, but he couldn't believe he dared to be that audacious.
"The Stud..." the Sergeant thought in silence as he pursed his lips, keeping his eyes averted.
The Colonel grinned, maintaining his composure despite the tension. "Welcome to the City of Souls."
As they followed him Soap wiped perspiration from his forehead. Damn, it was bloody hot here. "I've never been to Mexico."
"This isn't Mexico," said Alejandro. "This is Las Almas."
Ghost butted between them, drawing a hasty conclusion to the pleasantries. "Shepherd's contractors are inbound to reinforce. They'll need room."
He wasn't bothered by the Lieutenant's cold demeanor and kept his tone friendly when he replied. "My base is your base."
"Good. Now where's Hassan?"
Alejandro turned for a jeep at the head of a nearby convoy, speaking over his shoulder as he walked. "Reports from my men say he's in a cartel safe-house ten klicks from here." He opened the passenger door and motioned to the other drivers to get ready to move. As he closed his door, Rudy was fastening his seatbelt. "This is my second in command, Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra."
Rudy took one glance into the backseat before locking his eyes on the road ahead of them, adjusting his rearview mirror. "Le tengo miedo a los Fantasmas... - I'm afraid of Ghosts..." he muttered. Ghost narrowed his eyes in the backseat and the Sergeant cleared his tight throat.
Alejandro laughed before noticing neither of his guests were laughing with him. He looked back at Soap. "You know Spanish?"
"No..."
He smirked. "You will..."
--
Philip's lips moved silently as he read the book in his lap, his gray eyes occasionally darting around in thought. Novaleen was staring at him from where she sat across the cabin from him. "What're you reading?"
He looked up and immediately his face lit up with a giddy smile. "I'm practicing my Spanish. Figured if we're gonna be in Meh-he-co, I might as well try to speak the language."
"But you don't speak Spanish..." drawled Gann.
"The lu-ga-ren-yos like it when you at least try."
Molloy and Novaleen exchanged a painful glance. "Is he trying to say 'lugareños'?" he whispered.
YOU ARE READING
A Heaviness in His Eyes: a Call of Duty Novella
Fiksi Penggemar"They were all I had left in the world. Now it's just me. With nothing left to lose, I have everything to win." She shouldered past him, scraping her way sideways through the tight hall. "With or without your support, I have to do this." Novaleen "...
