The endless sky was taken over by the grayness of winter clouds. Everything around was hugged by the thick fog that wrapped its arms around Hereford. Last night's snow was still sitting on the cold ground, as the flakes were melting under the heat of the day. The peaks of the tall trees were seen on the horizon when the cars passing the base seemed to appear out of nowhere and disappear into the unknown.
The training facility was empty that day. The evening at the beginning of the week seemed like the perfect time for the training for 141. Price was still waiting on the intel on the exact location of Shadow Company's base, but the man had no time to waste. Even in the waiting they had to be prepared. The report could fall on his desk even in the next hour, and the captain had to make sure that his team was ready to meet with their next target. Unlike the last time, John wasn't planning on letting Graves walk out of the base in anything other than the black bag hugging his lifeless body.
The echo of the flying bullets reaching into the targets followed through the empty building, as Amelia was trying to improve her skills. One missed target and three more hits. A brunette was never enough for her own self in her mind, and the missing target was the only thing she could focus on that afternoon. She wanted to prove to her own the reason why she was standing in the SAS training facility, and not deployed in another unknown country being stuck at another desk. No one in the room needed the explanation, but only herself. An anger mixed with frustration escaped out of her mouth with the loud groan, as the woman tried to bring the focus back into her mind.
"You have to be a shadow, Mia," Simon polished the last knife of the set that was sitting on the top of the table, as he watched a brunette meeting with her own demons. Instead of letting her waste time on pointless targets that were not even moving, the lieutenant decided to share his experience, and hopefully, help a little from his side, "Act quick, and unexpected."
"And that's why the throwing knives are better than the flash grenade?" Knight looked back at Riley, noticing the set of knives. Countless weapons were sitting in the facility and waiting for their turn to be used in the training of soldiers. But only some made it to the table in front of Ghost, and it caught the woman's attention. She knew that everyone in the room was more experienced than her on the battleground, and listening to advice was the least a brunette could do that day.
"With flash, you disorient the enemy for a moment, but throwing a knife helps you kill them quietly," Ghost decided to give an example of his words, first throwing the flash grenade toward the emotionless targets in front of them. The loud echo of the flash grenade followed along the strong walls of the facility. It took a man a moment to let the sharp blade float in the air until it found the target in front of them. The knife hit the center of the target, when Simon looked back at Amelia, hoping it would help her to focus on the other equipment they had lying around, instead of trying to bring just one skill to perfection through anger and suffering.
"Alright, got it. Thank you, Ghost," A soft smile appeared on her face, as Amelia looked back at the lieutenant. Taking a short break, a woman grabbed a bottle of water from the concrete floor, and as if she were the thirstiest person on the planet, the water disappeared from the plastic walls into her mouth.
"Try it for yourself, officer," Ghost passed her two of his knives, as the two targets were still standing on the other side of the wall and looking directly at the two of them.
The woman felt that it was a great opportunity to put her anger into the work. She nodded, looking at Simon's masked face. The sharp blades of knives were looking for the soft skin to come into. They were the sharpest things Amelia had ever seen in her life. The mission was way too personal for Ghost. After seeing the betrayal, dead bodies over the streets of Las Almas, and Johnny's death, the mission of killing Graves became a personal goal for Simon. Commander Graves had a price to pay for his crimes and actions, and it could be paid only with his own death.
"Price better be careful with you during the argument," Under the mask, a soft smile appeared on the edge of the man's lips as he looked at the targets. The sharp blades were sitting in the chest of the target. Amelia didn't believe her eyes for a moment, but a soft giggle escaped out of her lips as the man's words reached her ears.
"Simon!" John was standing next to the armory, trying to find the weapon that fitted his mood the best on the cold afternoon. Unwantigly, the captain became part of the conversation as he heard his name and looked in the direction of the two.
"Looks like he didn't appreciate your joke," The mood of the woman got better in a matter of moments, as she let her brown eyes meet with the gaze of the blue oceans of Price's eyes for a moment. It took her a moment to notice a smile on the man's face, stating completely the opposite reaction to Ghost's words.
"It won't matter if you take out the shadows as fast as you do with the targets," Simon looked back at the captain for a quick moment, before letting his eyes look into the brunette's. But, the lieutenant broke eye contact between them as fast as he made it. Riley's heavy steps echoed in the silence of the building, as he walked towards the targets just to get his knives back.
"We'll look out for you, Mia, don't worry," Gaz let his face meet with the soft material of the towel, as the sweat was rolling down his face. The punching bag behind him was swinging from one side to another, finally taking rest from the sergeant's knuckles.
"I'm afraid Graves won't be an easy target as Shepherd," Amelia let her thoughts escape into the air. Johnny shared with her the details of the mission in Las Almas and judging by what everyone else said, Knight knew that it might be the hardest mission she ever signed up for. But it was a part of her job, after all, it was her and no one else's decision to trade the desk and everyday injuries of the soldiers for the taste of danger on the tip of her tongue.
"Last time bastard figured out how to trick us," Ghost's jaw clenched, as every single muscle of his body seemed to be tense. They all thought Graves was dead a long time and buried deep under the ground until his face appeared on the other side of the call alongside Shepherd. Now with the general seeing nothing but the casket and the dark soil around, it was the commander's turn to join him.
"Luck doesn't strike twice at the same place," Price crossed the arms on his chest, watching the teammates around him. The man was determined this time to bring an end to this story. There was no possible ending where his enemies would still be alive and wait for another chance to attack in the shadows. Even the longest stories had to end, and John was the writer who had to put an end to it all.
"I hope you're right, cap," Gaz threw away the empty bottle of water. His hair was soaked with sweat, but somehow the man wanted more. To drive his body to the feeling of exhaustion, just to come back into the room better, and repeat it all over again.
"Did anyone say to take a break, eh? Shadows won't give you a break trying to kill you," The towel collected all the small drops of sweat off the captain's forehead, before falling useless onto the cold ground.
John didn't have to repeat his words twice as everyone came back to the training. The cold wall of the facility met with his arm, as the man leaned on it letting his thoughts take his mind over for a split moment. The gaze of the blue eyes was sitting on the brunette, as Price was still wondering if an officer would be part of the team for the next mission. Some part of him wanted to leave her at the base, surrounded by the bubble of safety. But the other side of the man's mind knew that she'd find a way to get into the plane and join them. At the end of the day, he was no one to take her away from the sweet feeling of revenge over people who were responsible for Soap's death.
But Price couldn't lose another member of the team. Not her, not anyone else. The echoes of the shots brought him back into the room, as John decided to leave those thoughts for another day.
For the day that might eventually never come.

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Don't fear the reaper - Captain John Price
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