GHOST - No Man's Land

/CHAPTER 04

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[Ghost]

The explosions above were unmistakable proof that Ramos' forces were out there, and they were close. Relentless. 

Annoyance still simmered through me at me and Price's disagreement. As much as I respected the Captain, he was taking risks. Risks that we could not afford. 

My eye fell on the reporter as Soap handed her a new set of clothes. The stuff she'd been wearing looked more fit for a courtroom than a warzone, and it took all I had not to scoff at the stupidity. 

She took the pile, catching my gaze as she stepped past me into the other room. She was shorter than me, but her glare might as well have put me miles below her. Maybe, if I cared. I shook my head and grabbed Price's arm. 

''What's the plan?'' I might not particularly like the route we were going with, but disloyalty was not in my vocabulary. If Price wanted it done, it was gonna get done. 

''We need to get her back to the airport. As far as our intel goes, it's still under our occupation.''

''It's not.''

Price placed his hands on his hips, a slight shake of his head at the bad news. I let a pause fall, then continued. 

''I checked just now, before the communications went down,'' I tilted my head in the direction of the room Rebecca just disappeared in, where a large communication system just went dark. 

''Price,'' I stepped closer, needing him to understand how far we'd gotten ourselves up shit creek. ''There's nowhere for her to go.''

Price pondered for a second, his locked jaw and tense shoulders unable to hide his frustration. Soap stepped forward. 

''Our chopper should still be in the courtyard.''

Price turned halfway to face him. Gaz spoke up for the first time in a while. ''Yeah? What if it's not.''

''Then we push through to the streets.'' Price pushed himself off the desk. 

My hand instinctively rested on my gun, feeling calmer with its presence right under my fingertips. A tense silence hung over the saferoom. Staying here was not an option, going back up was a death sentence. Especially with the added difficulty of having an arrogant snobby cunt to drag along with us. 

Speak of the devil. Rebecca opened the door and re-entered the room. Her fancy clothes had been swapped for something much more suitable. The bandage wrapped around her head had been carefully removed, causing her dark hair to cascade around her face messily. She chucked her worn clothes and shoes in a corner, reaching up to tie her long hair in a ponytail while she walked up to us. 

Price nodded at her as she approached, a gesture which she returned. She eyed each of us individually, an edge glistening in her stare as it landed on me, then spoke. 

''So, what now?''

''We need to get you to safety,'' Price said, and she instantly shifted on her feet and looked away. 

''I'm not getting on a plane back to the States.''

''You are,'' Price said. The tone in his voice, authoritative, decisive. 

''Listen, you're here for Ramos, aren't you? I'm an asset, you can't just-''

 Price held up a hand to stop her. ''You can plead your case all you want. There are no flights to get you to the States right now.''