"The Wisp Of A Ghost" Simon Ghost Riley x Female OC

Prologue

The sun is beating down on the sandy rock around me and I lick my dry lips while I stare through the scope of my sniper rifle.
I've been laying here, prone for close to 48 hours. But I couldn't give up now, not after waiting for this moment for close to five years.
Beneath my desert uniform, my skin is burning from sweat, urine and sand that managed to find its way into my clothes by the wind.
I keep my eyes trained through the scope on the compound 1.5 kilometres ahead of me down the valley.
The intel I got I know was good, but I've not yet been able to spot the person I was looking for between the comings and goings from the Al-Qatala insurgents.
Khaled Al-Asad.
Five years ago the bastard and his henchmen were responsible for capturing my sisters squad, torturing them.
By the time my own squad arrived at the caves where they were held to rescue them, it was too late, her body already cold.
Since then, I've made it my purpose of hunting her killers down, leaving the SAS three years ago when I realized command had no intention of going after him.
"We've got bigger fish to fry.", they said, giving the assignment to find him to some incompetent american fucks.
Khaled was the last on my list, the one who actually put seven bullets into her head, after I picked his crew off one by one.
I take a sip from my jug, my last one, already half empty.
And that's when I see him.
Coming out of the compound, yelling at some of his soldiers, waving his hands around, clearly agitated.
My heart lurches but I take a deep breath, observing the wind one last time as I aim.
I've taken longer shots before, but it's nevertheless quite a distance, having been one of the best snipers in my old unit.
Finally, Khaled stands still, pointing at something his insubordinates were doing.
Deep breath in.
Aim.
Pull the trigger.
Deep breath out.
Half a second later, Khaled drops to the ground after I've hit him square in the chest and all hell breaks loose as the insurgents take cover and try to figure out where the shot came from, some of them pointing in my direction.
Time to ditch.
I quickly pack up my rifle and run to my motorcycle I've hidden behind a boulder.
It's a piece of junk, having it stolen from an alley, but with a head start I know I'll make it.
I revv the motor and speed off through the rocky terrain into the direction I know I'll have a safe place to hide out.
But then I hear the sounds of vehicles coming from my left.
"Fuck.", I curse.
After every check I made, I was sure the Al-Qatala didn't have any patrols up here.
I hit the gas, forcing my motorcycle to go as far as it could, but as I look to the side I see a truck and two quads come closer by the second.
I can't look for too long, but from what I've seen those guys weren't Al-Qatala.
"Fuck!", I curse again when bullets start flying around me as I swerve to avoid getting hit.
One bullet hits me in my left arm and I grit my teeth through the stinging pain, before another one hits the tire of my motorcycle and it slides away under me and my body hits against a rock, just before darkness envelops me.