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

Chapter 1

I'm woken up by ice cold water being dumped over my head, the hood over my head absorbing it, making it hard to breathe.
My hands are tied behind my back, and someone is holding me up by my arms as I'm on my knees.
The hood is ripped off my head after I gasp at the next dunk of water.
"Hello princess.", says a man standing in front of me in a thick british accent.
The room we're in is dark, only a faint lamp illuminating the man in front of me.
He's wearing a brimmed hat, and I can see wrinkles around his eyes, a brown beard hugging his cheeks.
Whoever was holding me up, now let go of me, taking a step back and remaining silent out of my view.
"Got yerself quite a kill there.", the man with the hat says and leans down to me, cupping my face.
"Who'd you work for?", he asks and I don't reply.
He let's go of my face before he asks again.
"Who do you work for?"
"No one.", I reply.
"Liar.", he says and hits me square into my jaw.
"Let me ask you again. Who do you work for?"
"No one.", I say and look him straight into his eyes.
He punches me again, but I don't make a sound.
"Think you're tough, eh?", he leers, before he punches me again.
He puts the wet hood back over my face, and I feel someone grab my head, pulling it back.
I hear the sound of water coming from a hose and I take a deep breath just before ice cold water drenches my hood again.
When I can't hold my breath anymore, I start gasping for air, only for water to fill my mouth and nose.
My head is released and my hood is pulled off again.
"Who the fuck do you work for princess? The Russians?", the man grabs me by my jaw.
"I told you. No one.", I say and spit into his face, receiving another punch as a response.
"So let's assume you don't work for anyone.", he steps away and takes a cigar from a case before he lights it up and takes a deep puff.
"Why did you kill Khaled Al-Asad?", he asks.
"None of your fucking business."
He kicks me into my chest and I fall back before hands pick me up again, shoving me back onto my knees.
"But it is our business princess. You stole our kill and fucked up our assignment. And I can play this game all week.", he says with a grin.
"Not that you're any good at it.", I let out a hoarse laugh, before I feel a hard kick against my back, sending me flying onto the ground.
"Oh we're just warming up.", he laughs as I feel someone grab my hair, pulling me back into position.
"So you work for no one, and the reason why you fucked up our mission is none of our business.", he says and takes another puff of his cigar.
"You don't sound russian, but that doesn't mean you're not in bed with them. So who are you?"
"Finally some fucking manners.", I scoff and spit blood onto the floor.
"Lara Moore.", I say.
"If I find out that's not your real name, I'll show you how good I can play this game.", he scoffs and pulls the hood back over my head.
"Ghost, watch her.", he says as before I hear a door slam into a frame and he's gone.
"Ghost? What a cute name.", I chuckle but the figure behind me doesn't make a sound.

It feels like hours as I kneel there, pain starting to shoot up my legs, the hood almost dry now, but I refuse to show any discomfort.
I finally hear the door open behind me and the man from before takes off my hood.
"Lara fucking Moore, huh?", he asks and pulls a chair into view.
"Read my file?", I ask, but he just stares me down.
"Ghost, cut her loose.", he gestures behind me and my binds are cut with a quick slice.
"One wrong move and I'll have you down before you can blink.", I hear a low voice growl into my ear.
I rub my wrists and scowl, trying to get a blink of the man blink of the man behind me, but he's shrouded in the shadows of the room.
"I gotta say I was quite impressed when I read your file.", the man before me continues.
"The SAS was sad to see you go. I assume you killed Al-Assad to avenge your sister?", he asks and I nod.
"So it stands to reason you are the one responsible for all the other mysterious deaths of his little posse, huh?"
I nod again.
"We could use someone like you.", he says in a low voice and I scoff.
"I don't really enjoy being beaten on a first date, but sure, whatever you say."
"I'm serious. I'm Captain Price, responsible for the 141. I assume your out of a job for now and I can help you with that."
I laugh at the absurdity of the situation.
"The 141, eh? Heard of you. But I was planning to retire to some nice countryhome, of course adopting a bunch of cats to keep me company, maybe become a bookseller or a florist, wasn't sure yet.", I reply, sarcasm in my voice.
"We both know someone with our training isn't happy with that kind of lifestyle. Soon enough you'll turn up at the doorstep of the SAS, begging for a job.", he scoffs.
"That might very well be. But I might just become a paid assassin. Why should I join your little clown troop anyways?", I ask, shuffling my weight to relieve the pain in my knees.
"Why shouldn't you? We're a band of misfits, doing the jobs others aren't cut out for, and as I see it, you're just as much of a clown as us."
I think for a moment. He's right. Now that I finally achieved what I was working for the past years, I don't know how to go on. I never put much thought into an "after". I weigh my options - I don't want to become a merc or assassin to do the bidding of some rich pieces of shit. But I also can't imagine settling into a civillian life.
"No strings attached?", I ask.
"We'll put you through some tests first, see if you still got it. If you pass we'll take you on a mission, see how you like it. You can fuck off if you don't. So no strings attached. Except a nice paycheck.", Price replies and I nod.
"Price, you can't be serious.", I hear the man called Ghost behind me say.
"I can and I am.", Price replies with a sigh.
"Pack your shit, we leave in three. And take a shower Moore, you stink. Ghost, watch her so she doesn't get any stupid ideas."
Price gets up and leaves.
With a groan, I shuffle to my feet and turn around.
The man before me is tall, towering over me, wearing a skull over a black mask, shadows covering his eyes from view.
"Welcome to the clown troupe.", he growls and gestures to me to leave the room before he follows me out.

We're on a military base somewhere in the middle east, I realize as we leave the little building behind us.
Military personnel in desert camos are shuffling about, not giving us any mind.
I'm greeted by a small group of men sitting at a table, and they turn to us.
"Price really is serious then.", a guy with a mohawk says in a scottish accent as he sees us.
"You the squad?", I ask as I approach.
He nods. "They call me Soap. That over there is Gaz, and that's Alejandro.", he points to the other two men sitting behind him.
"Lara.", I reply and hold out my hand.
"But you can call me Wisp if you want."
He takes my hand with a firm grip, shaking it.
"We roll out in three.", Ghost growls behind me.
"Ah come on Ghost, don't be so prissy. We're just getting to know each other.", Soap replies and then turns to me.
"But let's get you cleaned up. You look rough.", he says looking at my swollen and bloodied face.
Soap leads me to another building, the barracks, as the other lads follow behind.
"You're gonna watch me shower too?", I ask Ghost with raised eyebrows as he follows me into the washroom.
He just stands there silently, and in the light I can see his brown eyes framed in dark facepaint glaring at me.
I sigh and walk over to one of the shower stalls, pulling the slimy curtain before I undress with a semblance of privacy.
"Do I at least get a towel? And maybe some fucking soap?", I shout as I start the water.
I hear Ghost shuffle around, and suddenly a hand appears from the curtain, outstretched with a bar of soap resting on his gloved palm.
"Thank you.", I say and take it.
I relish in the feeling of the water on my skin, despite it burning my raw flesh between my thighs and on my face.
When I turn the water off, Ghost hands me a towel through the curtain and steps away.
Without a word I take it and towel myself off, sighing as I wrap it around my torso.
When I get out of the shower, my clothes have been exchanged with a fresh set, except for my boots and my bra.
Black uniform trousers, light grey compression shirt, black jacket, and even a pair of underwear.
"How nice.", I remark, looking towards the figure in the corner.
Ghost has his face trained on a wall before him, not looking at me.
I sigh and get myself dressed.
"Where'd you put my other gear?", I ask.
"You'll get it back after your tests.", Ghost says with a growl as I make my way past him.

Two hours later we're on the airfield, walking up a loading bay of an unmarked cargo plane.
"Excuse the others. They're still pissed you fucked up our mission.", Soap tells me with a smile as I strap into the seat next to him, before Price appears.
"Alright lads, back to home base.", he says in a gruff voice before settling into a seat across from mine, cargo crates anchored to the floor between us.
"So why'd they call you Wisp?", Soap asks me through the comms, breaking the silence.
"Why do they call you Soap?", I ask back and I hear chuckles in my headphones.
"Because he's fast and slippery like a soap.", Gaz explains.
"So why do they call you Wisp?", Alejandro cuts in.
"Because you'll never see me coming.", I reply in an ominous voice, and Soap chuckles.
"I like it.", he says.
Soon the others fall into conversation with each other, discussing their visits to their families while their on leave after we reach home base. Ghost remains silent, and as I look over to him, he has his face trained onto the ground.
"What about you Price? Having some fun with the newcomer?", Soap asks in a teasing voice.
"Oh yeah. Ghost and I will put her through the ringer until she wishes she was never born.", Price let's out a rough laugh.
The rest of the flight I remain silent, listening to them bantering with each other, ignoring my presence until we touch down on a base in Scotland I know well.
On the airfield I stand around awkwardly as they tell each other goodbye, pulling each other into their arms, slapping each others backs and bantering.
"Come on.", Ghost turns to me and gestures me to follow him.
We walk past the training courses I trained on when I was in the SAS as the sun starts to set, shooting ranges in the distance, the chow hall and barracks coming into view.
I expect Ghost to lead me to one of them, but he leads me past them to a bunker entrance I was never allowed to enter.
He punches in a code on a number pad, and the door opens, revealing stairs leading underground.
I follow him quietly, and soon we're in a hall lined with doors every few metres.
"You can take that one.", he gestures to one of them.
"Common room down the hall", he grunts and starts to walk away.
"When should I be ready for tomorrow?", I ask before he opens a door diagonally across mine.
"You'll know.", is all he says before he leaves me alone in the hallway.
I sigh and open the door he gestured to, finding a small bedroom before me.
No window, a bed in the corner with bedding folded on top, a nightstand next to it, a desk across the bed and a closet next to another door, behind which I find an unremarkable bathroom.
In the closet I find a few items of clothing, sweatpants and a few shirts, socks, soap, toothpaste and a toothbrush.
At least that. I think to myself as I start to get myself ready for bed.
I'll have to figure out a way to organize more tomorrow, at least a change of underwear would be great, maybe even some actual shampoo and shower gel.
I fall into my freshly made sheets with a sigh, the comforting darkness of sleep soon washing over me before I can begin processing the happenings of the last day.