Chamber of Reflection - Simon 'Ghost' Riley x OC

Chapter Seven: Las Almas

The ride to Las Almas was noisy, the cabin was filled with rattling, the smell of oil and the chattering of her team. Not that Smoke wanted them to be quiet— it helped her focus less on the anxiety prickling at her throat and more on the landscape. The open desert gave way to thick jungle, a glimmer expanse of green foliage stretching out as far as the eye could see. The helicopter's blades whipped through clouds of misty rain as it rose into the air, climbing higher and higher.

"You're shittin' me." Price grumbled under his breath. "It's already startin' to rain."

He glanced up at the dull grey sky, nearly black from the clouds that swirled along their flight path.

"How long till we land, mate?" He turned to the pilot.

"Less than ten minutes, we're making our descent now."

Soap twisted in his seat, craning his neck to catch a glimpse of the ground below. "Almost there."

Smoke had heard similar words hundreds of times during previous flights, but this time they felt different. Less ominous and more promising, cheerful even, but then again— that's Soap; all sunshine and lollipops. Her eyes bounced around his face, taking in his excited grin. Was she imagining this, the feeling of dread coiled so tightly around her stomach, squeezing and crushing her insides?

She forced herself to breathe, slow and deep. The helicopter made its descent in a smooth circle, the engine noise dwindling and the whirring of the rotors gradually fading, until the rush of wind and spray of rain muffled everything else. Smoke sucked in a lungful of clean, moist air. With an abrupt jerk, they had landed. She glanced sideways at Price who had leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and stared outside eagerly.

As the rear ramp dropped, he was the first one out. She saw the first drops of water plop onto his hat, which he reached up and brushed off absently. The rest of the team filed out of the metal bird, Ghost first, followed by Gaz, then Soap and finally Smoke. A gust of warm wind hit her hard in the face as she took her first steps on solid ground, and her eyes stung. The humidity clung heavily to her clothes and moisture dripped down the back of her neck. She blinked rapidly to clear them, then looked around.

The Las Almas base was buzzing with activity, soldiers bustling around like ants on a sugar cube. In the thick of it, all stood a man, tall and broad-shouldered with dark hair tousled by the wind. His eyes met hers across the distance, held for two seconds, before flicking away and landing on Price. Her gaze fastened to his sleeve, eyeing the patch sewn onto it. She recognised him from the stick figure Price had drawn earlier. This was Colonel Alejandro Vargas. He jogged over to them as soon as they were in arms reach.

"Hola, my friends! What kept you so long?" The colonel's smile spread, wide and infectious. "It's been too long, eh?"

Soap broke out into a big smile. "Alejandro!"

He laughed heartily as he pulled the man in for a warm handshake and a clap on the shoulder. The other members of the team greeted him in a similar fashion, with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Eventually, Alejandro's eyes fell on Smoke.

"What's this, eh? Where've you been hiding this pretty chica from me?" he asked, a smug slant to his lips.

Price cleared his throat, his smile strained slightly. "This is Mariya Lenkova, a new addition to the team."

"Mariya? You sound Spanish already, all you need is the last name, no?" He kissed the back of her hand, winking playfully.

Smoke's cheeks were dusted a soft shade of pink. Colonel Alejandro Vargas was a handsome man— tall, well-built with sharp features. His dark hair was swept back away from his face, a strand falling free to frame his face perfectly. Tobacco and musk hung about him in heavy, earthy scents. His eyes weren't brown, but an amber hue that sparkled as much as the sunset, bright with amusement as he grinned up at her.