Ramblers In the Wilderness

Unwanted

Cade

"The team doesn't need a secondary lieutenant. I've been handling the 141 just fine for the last several years"

The husky male voice boomed down the hallway. His accent was a thick British. Possibly from Manchester or the surrounding area if I had to guess.

The voices continued and I slowed my pace to ease drop as much as I could.

"She has skills which will benefit this team. Sni..."

"SHE?! She...you're bringing a damned bloody woman onto the team."

"She's a sniper who might even beat your records." That voice, as I got closer I recognized it to belong to Captain Price. I had spoken with him several times over the past few months. He contacted me shortly into my recovery to discuss a contract with TF141.

Price continued "Started as a negotiator, moved into tactical entry and also a skilled hacker. She's going to be a critical asset to the 141."

It wasn't abnormal to hear protest against a female in these elite groups. The men want to be...well...men and do the hero guy stuff. Totally got it and understood. Normally I'd step aside and let those men beat their chests and stroke their egos. Usually because egos never lasted and in the end it would be the calmer head which would prevail.
But to the men's credit. In this industry women can be a distractions and frankly Many women are weaker and get into these groups because they screwed their way in.
Those ones don't last long.

I had nothing to prove. Military and contract work had been my life since I was 17 and was basically all I knew at this point. It's what saved my life and would probably end it someday.

I made it to the door, knocked, and entered. Price stood behind a desk with a cup of whisky swirling in his hand.
He was tall with a thick brown beard, square sturdy jaw, and muscled up under his tactical shirt. For a late middle aged man, he kept himself looking sharp.
I walked up and stood next to, who I assumed was the other lieutenant and dang was this man built like a tank on stilts.

"Lieutenant Zahara. Thank you for joining us. I'm Captain Price. We have spoken on the phone. And this," Price motioned towards the big man, "is Lieutenant Ghost."

I nodded towards Price then turned slightly, to Ghost, "Afternoon Lieutenant."

Ghost had his arms folded and in a wide stance. He wouldn't fully turn my way, but was giving a hard side eye and simply grunted, "Hm."

Ghost was taller than Price by a couple inches. Wider through the shoulders and more built.
'Like a brick shit house' was the phrase that came to mind.
A black balaclava masked his face, a faded white skull had been painted onto it. His eyes were a piercing blue and cold as ice.

I returned the glare but threw on a quick fake smirk before turning back to Price.

"Well it's good to have you aboard Zahara. Thanks for accepting my offer and giving the 141 a shot." Price walked to the window and leaned against the frame, "You signed the contract for a year. At the end of that, you are welcome to stick with us, or move on if the 141 isn't for you. You'll have several missions to feel it out and decide."

Price paused taking a long sip of his whisky. Looking between Ghost and I as if contemplating.
"You have a call sign? Or what do you prefer to go by? Rank isn't normally how we address one another on base."

"Call sign Shade, but Cade works for on base." I replied.

"Got it." Price said straightening, "Ghost, show Cade around the building and to her room. Dinners at 6 in the canteen."

"Yes sir." I replied and turned towards the door. I stole a quick glance at Ghost as I turned. He hasn't budged, just glared daggers towards Price.
As I walked out of the office I heard Price in a low voice "Play nice Ghost."

It was easy to tell this dude had an attitude issue. Was it with me? Women? Or everyone? Time would tell.
Seemed as if it was possibly his normal demeanor, meaning I'd just have to learn to brush it off.

Not much bugged me in life anymore. I had been a hot head in my younger years, but learned it was generally easier to let things go. Especially when it came to people.
My temper would flare however, when dealing with poor or cocky leadership. It would take a bit to feel out this Lieutenants leadership and his 'play well with others' abilities.

I could sense him glowering at me from behind as we retreated down the hall towards the main entrance. I squared my shoulders and extended my step slightly so as to walk a tad faster since Mr. Long Legs was behind.
At the main entrance I grabbed both duffel bags and my gun case before turning to face Ghost.

"Where to?"

Ghost said nothing, barely looking at me as he started marching down the left wing of the building. We passed several barrack rooms before we stopped outside room 13.
Assuming this was mine I walked around Ghost and opened the door. There had been no key, but the door did lock from the inside. Which was odd. We were on a secured base, however locking rooms seemed like a basic human right. Whatever. As long as I could lock it when I was in there, that's all that mattered.

Leaving the door open I threw both duffels on the bed and rested my gun case against the desk. Turning back to the doorway, Ghost was just there...glaring.

"Where next tour guide?" I asked just trying to see how the nonchalant lighthearted route would go with him.

"If you think you're here to sleep your way to a better position, you're wrong. This team has functioned fine without another and the last thing we need is some floozy making a mess of things." His gruff voice was stern and threatening.

"Just because that's how You made it onto the team, doesn't mean this how I choose to live my life." I shot back.

Ghost shot through my door and was face to face with me scowling down in a flash. Dropping his voice deep he growled, "Your smart ass remarks will cause a world of hurt if you don't watch out. Best to keep quiet and stay out of the way."

"Least you think I'm smart..." Ghost grabbed me by the throat and pinned me against the wall, my toes just barely touching the floor. "The Fuck is your gawd damn problem dickweed", I gasp out as his grip tightens.

"Watch your step. Watch your mouth, and don't get any of us injured or fucking killed. Or you'll be the one buried." his face inches from mine. Ice blue eyes drilling holes into me. I glared back attempting to act un-phased despite my now labored breathing. He dropped me down, whirled and left the room.

'So no fucking tour then I guess', I thought as I rubbed my throat. 'If I fuck up, hopefully it's your ass who gets dropped'