Behind The Mask (Call of Duty Modern Warfare 2 [2022] Fanfiction)

- FOURTEEN -

The two hours it took to look through multiple filing cabinets made my tired eyes hurt. Whenever I looked around, I swore I could see letters shadowing the walls around me. I would have bet Ghost was more efficient at looking through the files than I was, but had left me to handle the task on my own.

     I had found nothing besides records for the base and general onboarding of soldiers or staff. It was mind-numbing and I was starting to wonder if Ghost had planned this just to distract and torture me—to keep me out of his hair. The way he had viewed the filing cabinets full of information, though, made me confident that it was a very real situation. 

    Slamming a drawer, I moved down past some other files I'd already looked through. At the end of the aisle I'd shifted to was a red cabinet, whereas the rest were black or grey, and it was hidden by casual passing gazes. The exposed side had a gray insignia that I recognized, yet couldn't place. 

    The drawer on top was heavier than those others I'd pulled open and I let out a grunt with the effort. The files inside were dark and more organized than the rest. I dug in, flicking my tender fingers as I read the alphabetized section.

    It was not for the Mexican Special Forces, that was for sure. And the few files I pulled out to read through made me pause on two words: Shadow Company. 

    I sorted through a few photos, seeing large objects that looked like missiles. There was a zoomed in photo of an American flag pasted on the side of one of the silver cylinders of death. In another document, there was some blacked out information, but pieces of it were legible. I pulled words out however I could, my brain on fire from reading thousands of words already.

    Three missiles. Russians. Squad killed. Shepherd. Graves. Nonexistent and buried—black bag.

    I set the file back in its spot and continued to the next, finding images of Soap, Ghost, and a few others I didn't recognize. One name was familiar: Laswell. The others seemed to be code names or nicknames: Price and Gaz. There was a title for all of them: Task Force 141. There was a snippet of information on Alejandro and Rodolfo as well. 

    My ears picked up the loud footsteps at the door before I saw who entered. In a rush, I shoved the file as neatly as I could back in, hoping it wouldn't reveal it had been bothered, and slammed the drawer. I spun to get closer to the main aisle as the double doors opened. 

    Ghost had said he would signal with a call to me, but this visitor said nothing. He didn't walk or sound like Ghost at all—he was too loud. I instinctively crouched, sucking in my breath. 

    "Is someone in here?" 

    The southern-accented voice made my blood heat up with panic in my cheeks. Graves. 

    From the little I'd absorbed from the information, I suddenly had a bad feeling about the soldier pushing closer from the doorway. I popped open a drawer in haste and pulled out a random file that looked like it regarded some menus for the food courts. I stood up, forcing fake shock on my face. 

    "Oh, Graves!"

    "Lily," his voice was more guarded as he eyed me, gaze flicking quickly to the red file cabinet and back; a less observant person wouldn't have noticed. "What are you doing in here?"

    I raised the manilla folder and shook it lightly. "Soap and I are trying to change Alejandro's mind on some menu items. We got into a heated debate over breakfast."

    Graves sucked one of his cheeks inward as he continued to study me. "It didn't look like anything got heated." 

    "Ghost helped keep it calm," I shrugged, the hair on my neck standing on end with discomfort.