Bitter Allies [Soap x Reader]

The Heat of Battle

Bitter Allies • Part 2

The rifle kicked back hard against your shoulder as the first bullet excited the barrel of the gun. The silencer on the end did its job at making sure the discharge was hardly heard. However, it became obvious very quickly to the group of four men that they were under attack. As soon as the first man had been shot, they were all alerted.

The first shot you fired was a direct hit to the man's head, and he went down quick. You quickly snapped over to the guy standing on the left, also hitting that target successfully. Already you'd proved Soap wrong. However, this was where things got difficult.

In any kind of armed combat, seconds greatly mattered. Eliminating two targets was easy as long as you could land the shots. By the time the second guy realized something was up, only one second has passed, and by then he was mostly likely already gone. The third guy, however, had a lot more time to react, and the fourth even more so.

Two clean head shots, but by then, the other two had reacted. One was moving to cover and the other stood his ground, weapon raised right at you. A trigger pull away from death, but in this profession, that was always the case.

Their movement disrupted the zig-zag pattern you had hoped on making, forcing you to take additional seconds when aiming at the third guy. You originally had gone for the one running for cover to stop him from alerting other troops, but then your attention shifted to the guy who was looking at you from down his own barrel. That now became your top priority and costed you even more seconds due to switching targets.

You were pretty lucky. You managed to fire before the guy's finger could put enough pressure on the trigger. The shots were sloppy, but three clean hits to the torso did the job.

Once he was downed, you did a quick scan of the area, looking for the fourth guy. He'd no doubt already contacted someone else, blowing your cover. Your heart had already been hammering away in your chest but now it seemed to thump even harder at the realization you'd just completely screwed up this mission.

You keep your weapon raised in a firing position but allow your head to hang down, eyes squeezed shut. Your grip on your gun tightens, prepared any second now to hear the alarms go off, signaling something was wrong. The mission would just have to go on though. Albeit much more dangerous now, but it still needed to continue.

"Fuck, (y/n)..." You mutter to yourself. "Just find Soap and get to cover... You've survived worse-"

Not even ten seconds after you dumped the third target, you heard a soft thump and saw the fourth target laying dead up ahead. A knife was embedded into his neck, blood pooling rapidly in the dirt. A split second later, Soap emerged from behind the cover, ripping his knife from the target's throat with a swift, practiced motion. His icy gaze locked onto you, and with a flick of his wrist, he sent a spray of blood across the dirt. He sheathed his knife and strode toward you, each step radiating fury.

Before you knew it, he was grabbing a fist full of your uniform and slamming you back against the vehicle you'd been using for cover. You hoped the sound of your back hitting the metal door didn't attract any attention.

"What the fuck was that, States?!" He yelled at you as loudly as he dared given your current location. "The fucking hell were you thinking?? You nearly just blew our damn cover! Are you that much of a pure hackit that you can't follow fucking orders?!" He was seething mad, his accent noticeable thicker. This is probably the worst you've ever seen him, and you've seen Soap mad a lot. Still, you had some venom of your own.

"You are not my superior. You can't give me orders." You growl, hands coming up to grip his as they kept you pinned. You kept your eyes on his, refusing to break eye contact with him.