Reliant ~ [John Soap MacTavish]

XI. The Photograph

Restless and consumed by thoughts of Keegan, I pace back and forth in my room. The weight of the mystery surrounding him presses down on me, urging me to uncover the truth. Every step I take is a contemplative one, a step closer to finding answers.

My eyes flit around the room, seeking inspiration. I've always been resourceful, but this situation calls for something. I can't sit around and do nothing.

How on earth can I investigate Keegan's past without arousing suspicion?

The answer eludes me until, suddenly, it's there like a bolt of lightning.

I shoot up from my chair, a newfound determination lighting a fire within me.

I know what to do.

It's audacious, but it just might work. I've learned to trust my instincts, and this idea feels right.

Without hesitation, I exit my room and stride down the dimly lit hallway toward Soap's office. I knock softly on the door, the anticipation of what I'm about to ask doing surprisingly little to my nerves.

"Come in," his muffled voice invites me in.

Once his eyes land on me, his face lights up for a split second, but I quickly let my own gaze drop down. In response, his own expression gets a little worried.

"Hey, Soap," I begin, my tone vulnerable. "I know this might sound a bit strange, but do you mind if I use your computer for about twenty minutes?"

Soap regards me with a measured look, a hint of hesitation in his eyes. "Why do you need a computer?"

Taking a deep breath, I summon my acting skills, carefully biting down on the inside of my cheeks to create a hint of watery eyes. "I've been feeling... lost. And I'm really missing my father. I just realized I never looked him up. And now I can't stop thinking about that fact."

His expression softens as he sighs, understanding the emotional weight of my request. "I see what you mean, Alex. But you know, security protocols and all that. I'm not supposed to let anyone touch my computer. Especially not you."

I maintain my saddened expression, hoping to sway him. "Please, Soap. It would mean a lot to me. I promise I won't mess with anything else."

Soap's hesitation lingers, his brows furrowing as he contemplates my request. Then, with a resigned nod, he relents. "Alright, alright. Just this once. But you've got to promise me, Alex, that you won't do anything that could compromise our security. And I'm staying right here while you use it."

Really looking up my father it is, then...

I offer a genuine smile, still relieved that he's agreed. "Thank you, Soap. I won't touch anything I'm not supposed to."

As I sit down at his computer, I can feel his presence behind me, vigilant and watchful. With practiced precision, I begin my search, hoping that this risky endeavor will yield the answers I'm seeking.

I sit there, eyes fixed on the search results displayed on the computer screen. The atmosphere in the room grows heavy as I scroll through an array of images, each capturing moments from my father's life within the base. It feels like a surreal journey into my past, a place and time I thought I had left behind forever with pictures from a base that doesn't stand anymore.

Pictures of me as a child, playing with other youngsters in the base's common areas, fill the screen. I see group photos of young trainees, eager smiles frozen in time with my father right beside them. And there are countless more snapshots of my father, often with colleagues, documenting their lives and work within the base's confines.