Laswell and Price occupied a secluded room and engaged in a video call with General Shepherd. The atmosphere was tense as Laswell relayed the gathered intelligence on Hassan and the team's destination.
"Hassan is moving something sizable towards the US. The cargo could be containers housing missiles. We don't know how many, and we don't know the targets," Laswell informed the two men. Price paced behind her, absorbing the information and mentally organizing their approach.
General Shepherd's commanding voice resonated through the computer, "To find out, we need to capture Hassan and bring him in for interrogation."
Unbeknownst to them, (y/n) had been aimlessly wandering the halls when Shepherd's voice caught her attention. Intrigued, she stealthily approached the door, ensuring she remained concealed while attempting to eavesdrop.
"We'll send Soap and Ghost to link up with the Mexican Special forces in the country along with all the manpower they need." Shepherd continued, failing to mention (y/n) in the plan.
Laswell's head shook subtly. "We can't start a war in Mexico, General." her voice filled with caution as she absorbed the weight of the situation.
"Certainly not," Shepherd assured, his tone firm and resolute. "I'll task Phillip Graves and his Shadow Company PMC to assist."
While overhearing the conversation, (y/n) paid no heed to the omission of her name, initially dismissing it as insignificant. However, the mention of Shadow Company and the involvement of Phillip Graves stirred a deep unease within her. Graves was a figure from her past, a source of pain that had led her to retreat from the military and find solace in the shadows.
"No need," Price interjected firmly, his determination palpable. He would rather die than let Graves and Shadow Company come into contact with (y/n).
Shepherd questioned the bold statement, "And why is that?"
"I have Specter," Price asserted matter-of-factly.
"Lieutenant Colonel Keller is dead, and Specter died with her," Shepherd denied vehemently.
"Not according to this," Laswell interjected, raising a picture of (y/n) alongside Soap, Gaz, and Ghost.
Curiosity compelled (y/n) to peek through a small window on the door, catching a glimpse of the photo. It depicted a moment of reunion and camaraderie, starkly contrasting her belief in her demise.
"How is she alive? She was supposed to be dead!" Shepherd's anger surged with each word.
"For now, how she survived is a discussion for another time. To the rest of the world, she is deceased, and it will streamline our operations," Price interposed, determined to redirect the focus.
"I want Shadow Company involved as well. That's an order," Shepherd declared, extinguishing any opportunity for further debate.
It was time to conclude her eavesdropping and retreat before her presence was discovered. She went to the hangar, intending to customize her plane with a personal touch. The sight that greeted her was a pleasant surprise — her aircraft had been painted with her code name.
"You're welcome," Soap said, emerging from behind the plane. (Y/n) smiled gratefully and embraced him, feeling the warmth of their friendship reignite.
"Badass plane for the badass," Gaz added, descending from a ladder with a sense of admiration.
"Thank you, guys. It looks just like the old one," (y/n) remarked nostalgically. They engaged in a lighthearted conversation until they noticed Price and Ghost approaching.
"Captain. Ghost," (y/n) nodded, acknowledging the two men. Price reciprocated the nod, while Ghost chose to ignore her. (Y/n) directed a pointed glare at Ghost, their eyes locking in another silent standoff.
Price initiated the debriefing for their upcoming mission, hoping to end the standoff between Ghost and (y/n). They were to infiltrate a drug cartel's compound in Las Almas and extract Hassan, a high-value target with intel on the cargo being transported to the US. It was a risky operation, but they were one of the best teams in the world.
As they prepared for the mission, (y/n) couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. The mention of Shadow Company and Phillip Graves still lingered in her mind, and she knew she had to keep her guard up and be prepared for anything.
"We're heading to Las Almas. Gear up, wheels up in 10," Price concluded.
(Y/n) quickly geared up, checking and double-checking her equipment and the fuel levels on her A-10.
Ascending the ladder to her cockpit, (y/n) couldn't shake off the sensation of intense scrutiny. Sensing the weight of someone's gaze, she spoke without turning, her voice dripping with icy composure.
"Is there a problem, Lieutenant?"
"None," Ghost replied tersely, his eyes narrowing. (Y/n) rolled her eyes, climbing into the cockpit.
"Good, now be a good LT and move the ladder."
Ghost clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to push back against her command. He respected her skills, but her authoritative demeanor irked him. He moved the ladder without a word, displeasure evident in his silent compliance.
As (y/n) turned back to the controls, determined to focus on the mission, Ghost couldn't help but feel a twinge of frustration. He didn't want to listen to her but knew better than to escalate their tension. With a heavy grunt, he walked away and headed to the plane.
However, his curiosity got the better of him. He couldn't resist the urge to observe (y/n) as she performed her pre-flight controls check. She had a reputation for being cocky, and Ghost was eager to see if her flight skills lived up to the stories.
Leaning against a nearby hangar wall, Ghost watched intently as (y/n) meticulously inspected the aircraft. He couldn't deny her skill and confidence, and a begrudging respect began to develop within him. While he still harbored reservations about her leadership style, he couldn't deny her competence.
Ghost reminded himself they were on the same team, working towards a common goal. Personal differences needed to be set aside for the success of the mission.
As the engines roared to life and the plane started to taxi, Ghost fiddled with a knife. It was time to prove himself and work alongside (y/n), putting their differences aside for the sake of the mission.
YOU ARE READING
Specter's Redemption |Ghost x Reader|
Fanfiction"There he is, Simon Riley." "There's no picture" "Never" "And (y/n)?" "Negative. Died six years ago." Laswell slide a piece of paper across the table to Price. "You have a call to make"
