Reliant ~ [John Soap MacTavish]

XIII. Disassembled Firearm

Somehow, I always find myself searching for things to do when nighttime hits. Tonight, it's exactly the same. The walls of my room feel like they're closing in on me, even if I'm not held captive in here specifically.

It's too early to go to sleep, and I'm not usually someone who sleeps very long anyway.

So I get out of my room again, deciding on yet another walk around the base that I still haven't discovered in its entirety. The hallways are mostly empty, some workers walking here and there, but I don't come across any of the 141 members.

The base at night has a different aura, a quiet calmness that contrasts sharply with the day's hustle and bustle. As I continue my aimless stroll, I find myself drawn toward the armory area. It's a place I haven't explored much, considering the strict access controls.

Especially for me.

As I approach, I spot Ace standing near the entrance, fidgeting with her phone before she hears me. She gives me a nod and a friendly smile once her eyes meet mine. "Hey, you doing okay?"

I return a half smile and shrug. "Fine. Just can't be bothered staring at a white wall for hours."

Ace steps closer to the armory door and swipes her access card. The electronic lock disengages with a soft beep, and she holds the door open for me. "Well, I'm just going to check on some gear. Want to come in? Soap's in there."

I'm slightly surprised by the offer. "You're not allowed to let me in there."

She shrugs, a smile still present. "Price isn't here, is he? Besides, there are two of us. I think we could handle you just fine should you try something," she chuckles.

The corner of my lip curls up involuntarily at her remark. I guess she's right, though I still somehow believe I'd have a chance. Maybe not with strength, but with strategy.

Inside the armory, Soap is meticulously cleaning his weapons, his focus intense as he disassembles a handgun. He glances up as Ace and I enter, offering a friendly smile. "Evening, ladies."

As we sit down with Soap in the armory, the atmosphere is surprisingly relaxed. The clinking of his cleaning tools against the metal of the guns provides a rhythmic backdrop to our conversation.

"So, Alex," Soap begins, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes, "how's your progress with those close-quarters combat techniques coming along?"

I smile, feeling more comfortable than I anticipated. "Getting there. Thanks for making me realize where to improve."

Soap chuckles, his hands deftly disassembling a pistol. "Aye, my pleasure."

Ace nods in agreement, her kind eyes fixed on Soap's work. "God, remember that one time with the ribbons?"

Our conversation drifts from training to recent missions, and Soap's witty remarks keep us entertained. He shares stories of past operations and the odd situations he's experienced within the team. It surprises me, mostly, as I've never really experienced a team that feels this.. meant to be together.

"I've got to say," I admit, "I expected this place to be more... intense, I guess. But everyone's been pretty welcoming. Except for Jack Skellington.."

With this, Soap snorts out a laugh. "Jesus."

Ace laughs too, and it's clear that she can enjoy a joke or two, even when she's clearly tied to him in some sort of way. "I love that movie."

As the night wears on, Ace glances at her wristwatch and stifles a yawn. "I should get some rest. Early training session tomorrow."

Soap grins mischievously. "Off to see Jack Skellington, are you?"

Ace rolls her eyes playfully. "Goodnight, you two. Don't stay up too late."