"YOU'RE DEFINITELY not what I was expecting."
Ellie turns to the Scottish Sergeant who sits across the aisle from her. He has a mischievous grin on his face. His blue eyes are lit up in amusement. He reminds Ellie of a golden retriever puppy.
"Cap'n Price said we were getting an Ellison Miller. Me n' the boys thought you'd be taller. And a man. But, there you are. Short and cute. And American." He smirks and Ellie can't help but mirror his expression. "Price also says you've got a nice record. Don't look like a killer to me."
"I guess that's worked in my favor," she replies. "Also, Ellison was my mother's maiden name. I go by Ellie."
He beams as he says, "Ellie, you need a callsign. I'm Soap."
Her eyebrow raises as she questions the unique name. "Why Soap?"
"Cause I clean house," Soap answers with a wink. He's proud of that one.
"Well, you come up with my callsign, Soap. I'm Shadow 0-2 with the Shadow Company, so that's all I've got."
"You're not with the Shadows anymore." The rough statement comes from the previously silent figure beside her, dark eyes boring into hers from behind his skull mask. "You're with the 141. We all have callsigns. Ellie's too civilian and Shadow 0-2 is too long and no longer applicable."
Ellie shifts in her seat, trying to keep her knee from touching his to no avail. He's got his legs spread and the helicopter they're on jostles them around a good bit. She crosses her arms over her chest in defiance. "Well, I technically still work with the Shadows. Phillip is my Commander."
"You're now under the command of Captain Price. Considering your promotion, I know you haven't had the chance to meet him yet," he challenges, voice sharp at the word promotion. "Besides, you call all your superiors by their first names?"
Her jaw sets before she decides to speak, choosing her words carefully before replying to the piece of work sitting before her. "Phillip was my friend before he was my boss."
He grunts softly, shaking his head at her. "I don't want you getting in my way tonight. You listen to me and Sergeant MacTavish. If I can't work with you, I'll send you back to Phillip."
His voice is biting. She hasn't even known the man for fifteen minutes and is already on his bad side. Just by existing. At least Soap is good company. In the red light of the interior of the helicopter, Ghost's eyes are obsidian. They're locked on her. She wants to hold his gaze but the heat radiating from his obvious dislike of her makes her chest feel tight.
"Bravo team offloads here," Ghost booms as he announces all the soldiers, not wavering his glare on Ellie as he stands. "Alpha team stays onboard to land downrange." He looks away and walks through the aisle of the soldiers, everyone lowering their night vision glasses. She does the same. "Both teams meet in the middle. Remember, we want Hassan alive, but this is capture or kill."
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𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐓 ― simon riley
Fanfictionnot yet corpses still, we rot. call of duty: MWII & III fem!oc x simon 'ghost' riley buckiplier © 2023 ⋆。°✩*️✮⋆。°✩ I do not own the rights to any Call of Duty characters, only my own & the original plot to this story.