scars do heal

8. shacked up and locked in

Head down. Fast steps. No words. Your hands in your pockets, fingers tapping against one another from anxiety. You shuffled forward, keeping up with your Captain's steps as he hurried along, leading the way. You didn't know he safehouse location. It was on a need to know basis, apparently. You'd be fucked if you were alone.

"Almost there, rook. Don't worry." Price could see you darting around with your eyes occasionally, peering at the locals and visitors you passed on the way. Were they dangerous? Were they a threat? Could they be Shadow Company hiding in plain sight? Finally out of the dark and on the hunt? You couldn't tell. Who knew who else Shepherd had deep in his pocket, what other companies he had paid off or bribed to follow his orders. You didn't even want to think of the endless possibilities that could come with that in that one singular thought.

The two of you came to a fork in the road, and you stayed a step behind Price to allow him to guide you to the safehouse. He looked up at the street signs, reading the signs quickly before turning right down a skinner one-way street. You stayed close behind him, eyes glued to his back as you followed his steps. "John, any idea how much longer until we-"

You were cut off as his hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you down a darkened back alley behind a hotel. He pressed you against a wall, his body flush against yours as he looked to the street, watching the people pass the two of you. "The hell are you doing, Price?" You asked, confused. But he shushed you, putting his hand over your mouth gently to shut you up.

You turned your head just at the right moment when a large black truck passed the alleyway slowly. It was unmarked, blacked out windows, moving very slow along the road as though the driver was searching for something. Or someone. Shadow Company. Or someone else under Shepherd's control. It had to be. You and Price looked at eachother knowingly, the look in one another's eyes indicating you knew exactly who it was.

Price dropped his hand from your mouth slowly, cupping your cheek. "Gotta keep moving. It's only around the corner, okay?" He whispered, and you nodded. Price kissed the side of your head before grabbing your hand. You had to blend. Tourists. That's what you were. What you had to be.

There it was. The building. It was desolated. Decimated. Perfect for the 141 to use. Looking around behind Price and yourself, you felt the Captain pull you inside and slam the door closed behind you. Coming face to face with barrels of several guns, you failed to breathe. But they lowered almost immediately, your team's faces on the other ends of the weapons.

"Shit, you guys are alright," Soap's brash accent cutting through the air as he pulled you and Price into an embrace. "Didn't know if you would make it, Shadow dickehads are patrolling the streets. Have been all morning." He released you both from the bone crushing hug and stepped back. "You are both alright, yeah?"

Price spoke for the two of you. "We're good. Laid low for the night, didn't raise any alarms."

"What the fuck was Graves up to?" Ghost asked from the corner where he stood, leaning against a table. "Fucker tried to kill us all. Got most of Valeria's men, the rest scattered when the shooting started." His arm was bandaged, Gaz's arm too. Alejandro and Rodolfo were stood together, silent as mice.

"Clearly Shepherd gave him different orders. Ones where we weren't valuable as assets anymore. But he won't get away with it, don't worry. We'll get back and find them."

"How?"

You thought for a second. How would you find them? Where would they even be able to take the missile that would have a large or safe enough space to contain it?

"Las Almas." Everyone looked to you now. "It has everything Graves needs for the missile. The transport to get it to Shepherd, the weapons, the men. That's where he has to be." The boys looked to one another, nodding in agreement.