Callsign: Princess // Ghost x Reader/oc

8

"Princess?" Gaz's surprised voice floods my ear. "Why aren't we on the main comms line?"

I ignore his question. Ghost's being a prick doesn't seem like an important topic of discussion right now.

"Alejandro's hurt. Fell and twisted his ankle. I'm filling in." I press my back against the steel door. "I've reached the first checkpoint."

"I'm almost there. Soap?"

"Three more guards along my route. Shouldn't be far behind you."

I wait in the night, in the silence. A black-clad figure in blackness. No more than —

There's a fucking red sniper dot on my chest.

I freeze, tensing in confusion as I glance down. Someone's got their sniper trained on me. And they want me to know about it.

I think I can hazard a guess as to who.

I find the blip marked Ghost and scowl in that general direction. I know what he's doing. The threat he's making. I can almost hear his gravelly voice in my mind — turn your bloody comms back on, or else. But I'm under no obligation to put up with his bullshit. Soap and Gaz can pass on anything important.

"In position," Soap says through the earpiece.

"Affirmative. Princess?"

"I'm here." I pull my attention back to the mission at hand. "In T minus three... two... one... and breach."

I thrust my elbow back into the lock of the door, all my strength behind the blow as the door caves in. I lift my pistol, sweeping the room, ready to shoot on sight. There's no one here.

"Clear," I breathe.

Soap and Gaz repeat the word. This room of the building's low and wide, an expanse of black with sleek boxes with hinged silver lids. I pause for a moment, staring at them all. I have no idea what this place is. Nuclear weapons facility? Uranium storage compound? Surely not, if they're holding Belsky prisoner here.

But then, maybe this is the best place to hold him.

"Second checkpoint," Soap says. "Status?"

I hear silenced gunshots, three in total. "Approaching checkpoint," Gaz says once the fire's ceased.

I say, "Affirmative."

Gaz counts us down. "T minus three... two... one... breach."

I bash my way into the next room. I'm not so lucky this time — there's two guards here, both rising to their feet and shouting something in a Slavic language as I storm through. I shoot them down in unison — cold and calculated. The way I have to be on missions like these. If I think too long and hard about the way these are human lives, with parents and possibly children, dreams and fears and favourite food and music they enjoy dancing to — I'd never be able to do this again.

So I don't think about it.

"Third checkpoint," I say.

I approach the door with a fresh wave of nerves in my gut. This is it. The three of us approaching doors leading to the same hallway. At the end of this corridor, we'll find Belsky. Getting in was always going to be the easy part. Getting the target out will be the real challenge.

"Affirmative," Gaz says.

"Affirmative."

I tense my body in preparation. "Breaching in T minus three... two..." I swallow. Fuck it. "Let's go."

We storm into the hallway. There's no need for silenced pistols anymore — three guards rain down fire on us almost immediately. Our only saving grace, the doors we've just blown out. They give us the cover we need, the precious seconds to drop down and react.