Daisy | Simon Riley

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John caught the worried look that Daisy shot him from the corner of her eye.

"I'll be alright, lass," he eased. "You'll have my location; you can come rescue me when we get some intel."

Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel. "It's a stupid fucking plan."

He knew she thought as much based on that being the third time she'd said so since they hashed it out. "It needs to be done. We need answers."

"I know. And as soon as we get them, we're moving in. We're not leaving you with them."

He nodded, "Thanks for having my back."

"Always. You'd better make sure you make it out, or else I'll go in there myself and drag you out."

"I'll keep that in mind," he chuckled.

Silence hung around them until his eyes landed on the drop off location. It would be a lie to say he wasn't anxious; he obviously didn't want to put himself into a situation where it was certain he would get hurt. But he also knew he had a responsibility.

"Overwatch, this is Bravo-six. Dropping two-seven momentarily."

As Drew slowed the van, he sent her a nod before jumping out, barely waiting for it to come to a stop. And immediately, it continued forward, disappearing around a corner.

Without the sun, the air was cool and comfortable.

Too bad the trip wasn't for vacation.

He walked down the street, turning left and continuing. He was in a nice looking neighborhood, the plaster-sided homes well kept and invitingly lit. But he continued, until the houses became more spread apart and the trees thicker.

He turned at the end of the street, walking along a gated property. Before he could even look for a bell, the gate inched open and two armed men came forward. They said nothing as one grabbed John, patting him down roughly before unzipping the hoodie he wore. They checked for bugs and weapons, and when they deemed him clean, they waved him through with the butt end of a rifle.

Thankfully, the bug was strung through the zipper seam of the sweater, meaning even a metal detector wouldn't catch it. The tracker on the other hand, was disguised as the metal button of his jeans.

His eyes scanned the yard as he entered the gate, counting eight unbothered looking guards stationed around the property. He was sure they were paying close attention to him—and more to their surroundings. They wouldn't be stupid enough to think he was here without support, but they at least wouldn't know where they were.

Ghost was in the mountain behind the residences—a comfort considering he had a sniper rifle with him. Gaz was in the opposite direction, in a rented apartment that gave him an easy in if anything went wrong at the house. Daisy was in the surveillance van, parked a klick away and waiting to follow any movement of John's tracker. Price was stationed past the city at a safe house, acting as overwatch and ready to send support if they needed it.

They had his back and he knew it.

The house in front of him loomed large; more akin to a Mediterranean castle than a modern mansion, although the arched windows were very likely bullet proof, and he could imagine there were cameras covering every vantage point they could.

As they ascended the steps to the house, the doors opened to reveal more armed guards and an unfriendly looking man. The scowl on his face was sharp and he did nothing to hide the pistol he carried.

And as if to make it even more obvious who was in charge, the gun was pushed into John's face a moment later, knocking beneath the chin painfully. He git his teeth and shot the man his own wicked glare.