Don't fear the reaper - Captain John Price

LI

The darkness fell on the base in the late hours of the night. Bright lights from the watch towers were running along the large territory of the base, trying to catch at least the shadows of the intruders. Men in dark uniforms were running along the corridors of the buildings, wrapping their bodies in protective gear and letting the cold weapons find a comfortable place in their warm hands.

Phillip knew the reason why the security alarm was echoing in every corner of the base way too well. Even after the failed attempt earlier, 141 would not let him walk out in peace with one of their own. Graves was almost feeling they were getting closer to him, as his legs were taking him to the main building. The commander's office had all the gear the man would need when facing the team. Phillip knew they were coming to take Amelia back and for his own head. However, the realization of the team's mission did not help him as the chaos was silently spreading from one building to another.

Explosions of the grenades were echoing somewhere nearby, as Graves was almost running towards the dark wooden door into his little space. The lonely bullets were flying from one side of the base to another, as Shadows were protecting each other, their commander, and their home.

The doorknob was twisted in the strong hand of a man, letting his body into the dark room. Graves was grabbing the gear from the nearest closet to him, running the plan through his head. The commander tried to remember where his com headset was hiding away from his eyes. He needed to know the situation outside. Phillip felt the need to regain control back into his hands. He took one step after another to his desk, when the light finally revealed that the commander wasn't alone in the room.

"Stand where you are, Graves," Price's voice echoed in the silence of the office, as the captain was holding Graves at the gunpoint. On the other side of the room, Ghost was sitting on the leather couch, having his weapon pointing at the commander.

"Hello, boys. Can't remember inviting you over," Phillip looked around, realizing his plan failed before he could even say a word. Suddenly, the commander who was always in control of every single movement of his team found himself in the position of a mouth that was caught in a trap.

"Shut up Graves, before I put a hole through you," Simon's voice was cold and calm. There was a thin line of patience between his words and proving to Phillip that he wasn't joking. Nothing about Riley's appearance or the way he looked at his enemies suggests that he was bluffing.

"Should I start begging for my life now or wait?" Graves chuckled, knowing there was no point in stretching out the time even further. They came for him. To finally catch him, and get revenge. On the other hand, Phillip was still trying to keep himself away from losing the game. The gaze of his blue eyes was traveling around the office, trying to find at least something useful as the look of two pairs of eyes were sitting on him along with the two muzzles of the guns.

"Where is she?" John leaned against the cold surface of the desk, crossing his arms on his chest, as the gaze of the captain's eyes was glued to Graves. Men expected him to fight, and do anything to trick them once more. Every single person knew Phillip was the last person to give up easily.

"Who?" The commander thought for a moment as if trying to understand what Price was asking him about. It took him some time to finally realize, as the low chuckle escaped out of Graves's lips when he looked back at John. "Oh, looking for your little bird, captain?"

"You have two options, Graves. You tell me where she is, and we make it quick. Or, you keep up playing your fucking games and he'll be the one dealing with you," Price was getting impatient. They missed Graves twice already, and the third time the man was planning on finally putting an end to this race. He pointed out to Ghost, who was hiding the eagerness of excitement under the fabric of the mask.