A Living Shield (John Price x OC/Reader slowburn)

29) 7 Months Prior

A red light blinked stubbornly on your responder. Your attention distracted as you settled behind a dark corner and focused on it.

You sighed nearly silently as you holstered your handgun and checked it quickly. Your comms were responding to someone trying to establish connection privately and you could almost bet who it was.

The light from the window further down the hallway showed the moon was nearing it's full phase, sending in enough light for you to look around comfortably as you skulked about. No need for night vision.

As you peered ahead, you turned the dial on your radio with your free hand, accessing the personal channel. Pressing the mic's button on your throat in confirmation, holding your gaze steady while checking for movement. Your throwing knife up and ready in case it was necessary.

"Status report, Greenie", Soap's came in hushed, sounding almost robotically in your ear.

"Currently at 8. You?", you whispered as silent as possible, holding down the mic. You'd always preferred the mics strapped to your throat over the ones hanging from your face. You didn't understand Ghost and Gaz with their giant headphones, it blocked too much surrounding sound. And they always felt way too invasive when moving around. You liked everything light and minimalistic, like your gear. Which you unfortunately had no access to in your current position, the only thing familiar on you being the demonic teeth covering your face.

"6 down so far", he answered as you could almost hear the frustration in his voice.

"Gotta catch up, Suds", you hissed with a smug smile on your face. Moving forwards down the hallway after you were sure it was void of people, you methodically checked the empty rooms as you crossed by doors. Making sure to keep low, you crouched past everything, blade and handgun at the ready, with your second knife in reach on your thigh.

You were currently clearing out a compound on the outskirts of Saint Petersburg, Russia. Not sanctioned in the slightest by the SAS as there was no diplomatic way apparently to get your team inside Russia without the authorities being a pain in the arse and limiting your work. Shepard had personally forbidden your presence here. So naturally Price stubbornly ignored it and said you'd all go anyway, with no official or retraceable armour on you. You'd armed yourself with clean, filed down Russian guns, courtesy of Nikolai. If you ever needed to get somewhere armed to the teeth with weapons that seemingly belonged to no one, he truly was your guy.

You couldn't complain about your armour, you got the sleekest fatigues Nikolai could come up with, but ofcourse it didn't feel as light and maneuverable as your usual BDU.

Right now the goal was to retrieve a parcel related to Killswitch. It held intel on the location of the group that took the bombs and gas, intel you'd been looking for, for quite a while now. And it had led you here, as you were all spread out in the building, searching for any indication of the goods you weren't officially allowed to have in your possession. Not that any of you cared. Once taken back home, there was no way to prove it was smuggled out of Russia and no one would rat you out. There were no snitches on your team. Plus, you were all antsy to take back what'd slipped under your noses. Eager to find the people that were always one step ahead.

You and Soap had a bit of a bet going to see whoever could take out the most people while you were searching. Unbeknownst to Price and Ghost that is, because they would both have your heads for unprofessional behavior like this. The only other person who knew was Gaz, who was currently peering down his sniper rifle on the building close by, checking the windows for movement. He had wisely put his money on you, much to Soap's frustration.

The loser had to get up first in the morning and make coffee and breakfast for everyone. A full squad of 4 grown men with big appetites. Sleeping in was a luxury, so having someone take the time to make that stuff for you was worth the extra hour of sleep. And it beat having to go to the mess hall for sloppy food.