callsign: Hide

One

The last mission was long and hot, but finally over. Informants had the target was in an old building, and they weren't wrong, but they didn't mention the small army that was guarding the target. It led to a long and bloody few days.

Looking over at Hawks, my only friend in this place, he smiled back, black mask discarded and replaced by an oxygen mask. The smile faded as the truck hit a pothole, and the medic cut a little too deeply. "Keep her steady!" The medic shouted, taking out a syringe of another pain killer. "Why the fück to they always give us the new drivers?"

It wasn't a question for either of us, but we both laughed. "Shut up, unless you want your pants stitched into this hole," the medic snapped, and we silenced ourselves. Medical always outranked when someone was hurt.

Hawks slumped, and I leaned over him, "Relax, it's the meds. Go sit down."

I did as I was told, but kept my eyes on Hawks, even when we parked, and he was taken away. "Colonel wants to see you!" The doctor shouted over the sound of the other trucks coming into base. "Something about transfers."

I sighed and nodded, watching Hawks until he disappeared inside the medical wing of base. And turned for the Colonel's office. He'd never transfer me, or let me retire, it had to be about people transferred in.

"Sir?" I knocked, entering when he said to. I saluted, but he shrugged me off, pointing to a chair.

"Quinn, we've got transfers, and I need you to show the new captain around." He shuffled through some papers, not really caring if I objected. He outranked me.

"Yes, sir," I answered anyway. "When should I exp-"

There was another knock, and the whole entry process repeated. A man was sitting beside me in a basic uniform. He was shorter than me, dark brown eyes, and hair that was a little long, but not long enough to tie back. He was slight, but still muscled.

"This is Torres. Codename King. He's new to black ops, but he's got a hit count that could match you." He set the paper he'd been reading down, the info on Torres. "Show him around, train him," I nodded, nothing was wrong with what he'd asked me to do, so why did he have that smirk?

"Yes, sir."

"Dismissed," he said, waving us off. We both stood, saluting and turning to leave. "And Quinn, he's bunking with you."

"What?" I turned. "But I've always had my own room, you know I can't. Colonel, please, reconsider."

He held up a hand, "The base is packed, couldn't have a captain bunking with the newbies, so he's with you. You've got the room."

"Colonel," he glared at me, bored. "Dad, please."

He stood, hands on his desk, "You only call me dad when you want something." He yelled. "And it never works. He's bunking with you, or I'll send you to sleep with the new recruits. Now, dismissed."

I slammed the door when I left, something I only got away with because the Colonel was my father. It was one of the few perks. I heard laughter behind me. "What?" I turned on Torres, I was a good eight inches taller than him, "I didn't expect to meet you and immediately have you throw a fit." He laughed again, clutching his sides.

"Fück this, I have to go check on my friend."

His smile dropped, "I'm sorry, is he really bad?"

I ignored him, shoving past and heading for medical.

*

The room was too crowded with the new bed that was against the wall across from mine. The grunts had shoved my desk to the far wall, wedged between the beds. Everything that had been on it was scattered around the room.

Torres found his way to my- our room when I was picking up my pens. I hoped he would get lost.

"You're sleeping in full gear?" He asked, eyebrow lifting as he pointed to my tactical vest.

"I don't trust people." I snapped, tossing the pen on the desk, "definitely not people sleeping with me."

"Suit yourself," he said, shrugging as he jumped into bed in boxers and a shirt.

"How's your friend?" His tone was caring.

"They wouldn't let me see him," I sighed, sitting on my bed, "But they said he's doing better."

Torres smiled, "Good." He settled down, and turned toward the wall.