Nikto and Krueger [Call of Duty AI Generated Stories]

Late Night Thoughts: A Nikto and Krueger Story

The safehouse was an old, run-down building hidden deep in the mountains, its weathered wooden walls creaking with every gust of wind that blew through the narrow valley. It wasn't much, but it was secure, and that's all that mattered for the team of four who had taken refuge there—Nikto, Krueger, Oni, and Horangi. They were on the tail end of a lengthy, high-stakes mission, waiting for the signal to execute the final part of the operation. Until then, they had to lay low, unnoticed, and patient.

It was well past midnight, the moon casting a dim light over the rugged terrain outside. Inside the safehouse, a dim lantern flickered in the corner, illuminating the small room where the team had set up for the night. Oni and Horangi were already asleep, their breathing deep and even. Krueger had taken off his mask, his expression relaxed as he lay back on his cot, his eyes half-closed, ready to drift off. But Nikto sat by the window, completely still, his eyes scanning the dark woods outside, his mask still in place. The tension in his posture hadn't faded since they arrived.

Krueger had noticed this earlier in the evening—the way Nikto had been pacing, constantly checking the perimeter, his fingers twitching as if ready to pull the trigger at any second. There was a storm brewing in Nikto's head, and Krueger could sense it from across the room.

"You need to sleep," Krueger finally said, his voice low but firm. He didn't even bother sitting up. He knew Nikto would hear him.

Nikto didn't respond. He kept staring out the window, his shoulders rigid, his breathing barely audible behind his mask. His hands were clasped tightly around the rifle resting in his lap. Krueger sighed.

"You know, you're no use to any of us if you're running on fumes tomorrow," Krueger added, this time shifting so he could look at Nikto properly.

Again, Nikto stayed silent, but Krueger could see the tension growing in his body, like a coiled spring ready to snap. Krueger had seen this before—Nikto's paranoia, the way he refused to let his guard down, even around those he trusted most. But this was different. This mission was long, grueling, and they couldn't afford mistakes. Not now.

"You're not the only one watching, Nikto. We've got it covered." Krueger's voice softened slightly, a rare note of concern slipping through his usual stoicism.

But Nikto still didn't move. His mind was racing, replaying every worst-case scenario, every possible danger that could lurk in the shadows outside. He knew Krueger was right. He knew he should rest. But he couldn't—his mind wouldn't let him. The darkness outside felt too thick, too heavy, like it was closing in on them. If he let his guard down, even for a moment, something could happen. And he wasn't willing to take that risk.

"Get some sleep, Krueger," Nikto muttered finally, his voice rough and distant. "I'm fine."

Krueger narrowed his eyes, sitting up fully now. He wasn't buying it. Nikto's voice was too strained, his movements too tense. He was anything but fine.

But Krueger knew when to push and when to back off. Nikto wasn't going to listen tonight. So, with a quiet grunt, Krueger lay back down, closing his eyes. "Suit yourself. But don't say I didn't warn you."

By morning, Nikto was running on nothing but adrenaline. He hadn't slept a second. His mind had been a whirlwind of paranoia, his eyes glued to the shadows outside the safehouse, even as the first light of dawn broke through the trees. He hadn't even noticed when Oni and Horangi woke up, quietly preparing their gear for the mission.

Krueger had been watching him, though. He had seen the way Nikto's shoulders slumped just slightly when he thought no one was looking, the way his hands trembled ever so slightly as he reloaded his rifle. Nikto was pushing himself too hard. But Krueger didn't say anything. Not yet.

The mission began smoothly enough. They moved through the forest, silent and coordinated, their target just a few kilometers away. Oni led the way, his keen senses guiding them through the dense trees, while Horangi covered the rear. Nikto and Krueger moved in the center, their eyes sharp, their movements precise.

But as the day wore on, it became clear that Nikto was slipping. His steps were slower, less precise. His breathing was heavier, his movements sluggish. It wasn't like him, and it didn't go unnoticed.

It started with a misstep—Nikto stumbled over a fallen branch, something he would've normally noticed from a mile away. Then, during a quick check of their surroundings, he nearly missed a patrol that had strayed too close. Krueger had to pull him back, a hand on his shoulder, his grip firm.

"Focus," Krueger hissed, his voice low but urgent. "You're losing it."

Nikto jerked his shoulder away, muttering an apology, but Krueger could see it in his eyes—Nikto was exhausted, running on pure survival instinct now. And that wasn't enough.

The final straw came when they reached the edge of the clearing where their target was hiding. They were in position, ready to strike. But Nikto's movements were too slow, too sluggish. He hesitated, his vision blurring for just a second, and that second was all it took for one of the enemy scouts to spot them.

"Contact!" Oni's voice rang out through the comms, and all hell broke loose.

Gunfire erupted, bullets cutting through the trees as the team scrambled for cover. Krueger and Horangi immediately returned fire, while Oni moved to flank the enemy. But Nikto—he was a step too slow. He was fighting to stay upright, his vision swimming as his body finally gave in to the lack of sleep.

Krueger saw it happen in an instant. One moment, Nikto was aiming down his sights, and the next, he was swaying on his feet, his knees buckling. Without thinking, Krueger moved, his body reacting faster than his mind. He grabbed Nikto by the arm, pulling him back behind cover just as a spray of bullets tore through the space where Nikto had been standing.

"Damn it, Nikto!" Krueger growled, his voice a mixture of anger and concern. "You're going to get yourself killed!"

Nikto's breath was ragged, his vision still swimming, but he tried to shake off the fog in his mind. "I'm fine," he rasped, though even he didn't believe it at this point.

Krueger didn't waste any more time arguing. The mission was compromised, and Nikto was barely standing. He glanced at Horangi and Oni, signaling for them to cover the retreat. They were outnumbered and outgunned, and right now, getting Nikto out alive was more important than completing the mission.

Without another word, Krueger slung Nikto's arm over his shoulder, hauling him to his feet. Nikto tried to resist, muttering something about finishing the mission, but Krueger wasn't having it.

"Shut up," Krueger snapped. "You're in no condition to fight."

They moved quickly, Krueger practically dragging Nikto back through the forest as Oni and Horangi provided cover fire. The gunshots echoed through the trees, but Krueger's focus was solely on Nikto—on keeping him upright, on getting him back to the safehouse.

By the time they made it back, Nikto was barely conscious, his body giving in to exhaustion completely. Krueger didn't let him go until they were inside, the door shut behind them.

He eased Nikto down onto one of the cots, his eyes scanning Nikto's face for any sign of injury. But it wasn't wounds that had brought Nikto down—it was his own damn stubbornness.

"You idiot," Krueger muttered, though there was no real anger in his voice now. Just relief. "You're lucky you didn't get yourself killed."

Nikto's eyes fluttered open, barely able to focus on Krueger's face. He tried to sit up, but Krueger pushed him back down, his hand firm but gentle on Nikto's chest.

"Stay down. Rest," Krueger ordered, his voice softening just a little. "You need it."

Nikto blinked up at him, his body too heavy to argue anymore. He could feel the weight of Krueger's hand on his chest, grounding him, reminding him that he wasn't alone. For once, Nikto let himself give in to the exhaustion, his body sinking into the cot.

As his eyes drifted shut, he felt Krueger's hand linger for just a second longer, a quiet reassurance that he wasn't going anywhere. And for the first time in days, Nikto let himself relax, knowing Krueger was there to watch his back.