The Destiny of Ghost and Me

Chapter 9: The Catastrophe

At 6 o'clock in the morning, we woke up and relieved Rudolfo so he could rest. I used binoculars to monitor the paths, Soap set up some traps in case the assholes found us, and Ghost patrolled outside.

From my vantage point, I watched Ghost below. I wondered what would happen to me if anything happened to him. I quickly pushed those thoughts aside, reminding myself to stay positive. I looked back through the binoculars and noticed a car approaching. I alerted Ghost, and he aimed his sniper rifle, but he gave the all-clear signal and said, "Negative, it's just Price and Gaz."

Price and Gaz got out of the car, looking angry, much like we did. They entered the stable, and we gathered around a table.
Price asked for every detail. As we explained everything, his face grew redder with anger.

In frustration, he exclaimed, "Dammit!"

Soap prepared the laptop when suddenly a FaceTime call came in from an anonymous number.

Price nodded to Soap, and he answered. Who could it be? Stepherd, of course. He looked insufferable with his beard and military suit. Price began calmly, "You certainly gave us enough advance notice about this pleasant surprise!"

Stepherd retorted, "Well, consider yourself well-informed now."

A brief moment of silence filled the room as I shifted my gaze between the two.
Price continued, "For this betrayal, you will pay, and we will come for you."

Stepherd laughed like a devil, and a strange feeling washed over me.

He said, "Now, for the first step, Captain, you've forced my hand! Take a look at this lovely video I'm about to show you."

I felt even more uneasy, unsure if it was nervousness or a sickening feeling in my stomach. And then the video played. Alejandro bound to a chair with a bomb timer set for 30 seconds.

We all gasped in shock. Price shouted, "No, Stepherd, don't do this!"

Rudolfo fell to his knees, murmuring, "Alejandro."
Tears welled up in my eyes again. Soap's mouth hung wide open, and Ghost's hands clenched into fists.

And then it happened—the explosion. Alejandro was gone.

I struggled to breathe, my chest heaving. I had already experienced this trauma with my old team, and mentally, I didn't know if I could handle going through it again.

Price angrily threw the laptop against the wall. Rudolfo wept bitterly, and I leaned against the wall, trying to catch my breath.

Gaz seemed frozen in place, unable to move or speak.

And now we had lost our first comrade. We were all devastated. I sat outside on the ground, smoking a cigarette. I heard someone else come outside—it was Ghost. He sat down beside me. I rested my head against his arm and took a drag from the cigarette. The smoke seemed to resemble Alejandro, slowly fading away. I felt tears streaming down my face, and I noticed Ghost covering his eyes. I believe he had also cried but didn't want anyone to see.

In a sorrowful tone, I asked, "Is this going to be our end?"

Ghost replied, "Not before all of them rot in hell," and he kissed my forehead.

That was the moment when something clicked in my memory—the tattoo on Graves' arm. Ghost looked at me with a questioning gaze.
I retrieved my drawing and said, "I know where I've seen this before!"

Ghost asked, "Where?"

"On Zion's arm," I realized, and let out a frustrated scream.

We went back inside, and I informed the others that Makarov was also involved in this matter. Everyone looked even more stressed now.