Captain Price surveyed the team gathered around the table, each member a vital piece in their complex puzzle. Ghost, as stoic as ever, lingered at the room's periphery, a shadow within the shadows. Laswell, a pillar of support, positioned herself to Price's right, her presence offering silent assurance. Alejandro and Rudy flanked Price, forming an unyielding front, while Soap's clenched fists betrayed the tension that gripped him, his knuckles paling under the strain.
Caleb's arrival marked the final piece falling into place. He entered with an apologetic smile, a newcomer amidst familiar faces. As he took his seat across from Price, there was a shift in the room's dynamic. The weight of recent revelations hung in the air, casting a somber hue over the proceedings.
"As of 28 hours ago, (y/n) gave herself to AQ. We know what direction they were heading in, but we don't know the location that they'll be keeping her." Captain Price's voice held a steely edge as he delivered the grim news. "(Y/n) has given herself up to AQ. We have a general direction of their movement, but the exact location remains unknown," he stated, each word laden with a sense of urgency.
"But why?" Soap's incredulity hung in the air, his voice tinged with disbelief. The question echoed the collective confusion that gripped the room.
Laswell's voice cut through the silence, her resolve unyielding as she produced Price's voice recorder and placed it on the table.
"Surrender yourself to Al-Qatala and the Cartel. Extract vital information about the missiles' destination and location. We'll have the Shadows on standby for your exfiltration. Afterward, you put Specter to bed and become acting Commander of the Shadows. Task Force 141 will be disavowed and the Shadows will be taking over the mission after you return to Las Almas."
The room fell into a charged silence, broken only by (Y/n)'s defiant response, a testament to her unyielding spirit. The camaraderie of the team, forged in the crucible of battle, had always been their strength. Now, it had become their vulnerability.
"And if I refuse?"
Caleb's interruption was a thunderclap, shattering the uneasy stillness. "Only problem," he began, his voice measured, "Shadow Company has ceased any preparations for an exfil."
The room seemed to contract around them, the walls closing in with the weight of their shared helplessness. Gaz's reaction was visceral, a release of pent-up frustration and anger. His hand struck the table with a resounding thud, an exclamation of the impotence that gripped them all.
The implications of Caleb's revelation were clear. Doubt and suspicion hung in the air like a shroud, casting a pall over their once-solid alliance. They were teetering on the edge of betrayal, the ground beneath them shifting with treacherous uncertainty. Price's gaze bore into Caleb, the weight of the situation reflected in his steely expression.
"General Shepherd's orders, huh? My thinking is that they're planning something against you guys. I may be second in command but I don't get told shit," Caleb's words were tinged with frustration, a reflection of the chasm that had opened up within Shadow Company.
Ghost's voice, cool and detached, cut through the tension, drawing their attention to his solitary figure at the back of the room. "(Y/n) told me not to trust Shepherd when we were first interrogating Hassan," his admission held a weight of its own. The truth of (Y/n)'s warning now hung in the air, an unheeded premonition that had come back to haunt them.
"But that doesn't explain why you're here," Ghost finished, his gaze piercing as he pointed directly at Caleb. The question hung in the air, a challenge to the newcomer's presence and motives. The room was a crucible of suspicion and uncertainty, the bonds of trust tested to their limits. They were teetering on the precipice of betrayal.
Caleb met Ghost's gaze, his expression steady.
"That's understandable, but Shadow Company ain't what it used to be," he began, his voice measured. "The only reason why I'm second in command is because (y/n) was my mentor. She taught me everything I know." He sighed, the gravity of the situation settling over him. "There were 10 of us Shadows who (y/n) told to leave base before she broke the gates of hell. Our loyalties lie with her. Say the word and you'll have our services."
The offer hung in the air, a potential lifeline in the face of their shared adversity.
Ghost's gaze remained fixed on Caleb, a silent assessment of the man before him. Caleb's loyalty to (Y/n) was evident, a bond forged in the crucible of their shared experiences. Yet, Ghost couldn't shake the absence of Caleb's name from the documents he had studied regarding (Y/n).
"What's the plan? We need to get (y/n) back." Soap's question cut through the tension, drawing their attention to the pressing matter at hand. The plan hung in the air, a palpable sense of urgency settling over the room.
Price's frustration was palpable. "We need to find out where Hassan is," he declared, his voice edged with determination.
Alejandro's voice carried a note of conviction, offering a potential lead. "There is a cartel party tonight. If AQ and the Cartel are working together, someone there is bound to know where he is. It is also rumored that El Sin Nombre will be there."
Rudy's contribution added another layer to the puzzle. "We got a Morse code message this morning saying that El Sin Nombre knows where Hassan is. We just don't know where the message came from. It was signed 1268101622."
The confusion that rippled through the room was palpable. Gaz voiced what they were all thinking. "That's not a call sign."
The exchange of glances between Alejandro, Price, Rudy, and Soap mirrored their shared bewilderment. Across the table, Caleb's eyes locked with Laswell's, a silent understanding passing between them. Laswell's nod affirmed their unspoken realization.
Caleb's smile held a touch of triumph, a revelation on the cusp of being unveiled. "Because it's not. It's an American DOD ID," Laswell stated with conviction.
Caleb wasted no time, removing his dog tags and placing them on the table in a single fluid motion. The members of Task Force 141 leaned in, their focus on the stamped numbers. There it was, (Y/n)'s information etched into the metal, featuring the same number that had signed the Morse code message.
Price's nod signaled their course of action. The plan had crystallized before them, a beacon of hope in the midst of uncertainty. "Looks like we have our plan," he affirmed, his voice steady and resolute. "Gear up, we leave in 2 hours."
The room came alive with purpose, the air charged with a renewed sense of determination. Each member of the team moved with a practiced efficiency, their mission clear. The shadows of war had once again called them to action, and they would answer with unwavering resolve.
YOU ARE READING
Specter's Redemption |Ghost x Reader|
Fanfiction"There he is, Simon Riley." "There's no picture" "Never" "And (y/n)?" "Negative. Died six years ago." Laswell slide a piece of paper across the table to Price. "You have a call to make"
