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

- SIXTEEN -

The target in front of me moved back and forth while a second popped up from behind cover and then sunk down, shifting to pop up in a different spot. I kept my eyes trained not on the pattern of movement, but the silhouettes of the targets, the holes I'd previously left in the red dots on the center of their heads. 

    I wasn't used to firing at human-shaped targets, but I treated them as targets nonetheless; I knew I would never fire at a real human's head nor did I think I would ever want to. Taking that mindset still allowed me to be lethally accurate, hitting consistently in the chest and head markers. 

    Gripping the pistol I'd used for the majority of my mind-numbing activity, I kept both eyes open. I breathed deeply and evenly as I fired off the remaining four shots in the mag. Two snagged the head of the pop-up target as it appeared for three seconds while the other two nailed the floating target—one head, one chest. 

    Finishing my exhale, I unloaded the pistol and set both pieces down to the table in front of me. I picked up the hearing piece on my head, adjusting it once. My hair was in a neat low pony, a few stray hairs wiggling and tickling at the sides of my face which had a light layer of sweat. 

    I felt a presence then. A sweep in the wind of the fans above and a redirection of the air. The back of my neck felt pressure. I knew I was being watched and I had a solid guess on who it was. Leaning my palms on the table and exhaling again, I bowed my head.

    "Why did you leave me alone in that room?" 

    "I didn't." 

    I turned to face Ghost's huge figure, looming over the back tables like they were meant for kids. "Oh?"

    "Rodolfo had a pressing matter."

    I eyed him, crossing my arms. "And you had to leave to avoid looking suspicious."

    Ghost dipped his large head, eyes blinking once in acknowledgement. "Did you find anything?"

    "Not on anyone specific, no," I swallowed as he came closer, eyeing the pistol behind me. "There wasn't enough information to make sense in the few things I did find. Just words. Maybe it was my eyes because I had to be in there for hours."

    Ghost shot me an amused glance, I could tell by the way his eyes softened just barely, and I looked away with a tug at my lips. "Mind telling me where you learned to shoot like this?"

    "My mother," I turned back to face the table, pressing my hands back flat on it. "She was law enforcement and we used free time to go out shooting or hunting whenever my father wasn't around."

    "Around?"

    "He did a lot of guided tours and hikes, working for the government as a...professional hiker of sorts," I shrugged. "He had his shit together before my mother passed. After..." I broke off and swallowed tenderly again. "Well, I told you why I don't drink."

    "What have you shot?" Ghost redirected and I was silently thankful.

    "Pistols, hunting rifles of course, and a couple of semi-autos," I smiled to the memories that came with each caliber. "My favorite are rifles. I'm better with them."

    "That remains to be seen," Ghost's response took me a moment to realize he was taunting me in that accented voice.

    "Are you challenging me, Simon Riley?" I crossed my arms and faced him with a burning sensation in my gut. 

    "You don't want that challenge, Lily."

    "What? Don't tell me you are better at them too..."