Snow drenched and spattered with crimson blood crunched beneath Simon's boots as he gazed down at a group of shivering, terrified children.
He and Price had made great work of the place. About 20 or so soldiers laid dead all throughout the encampment, some of them face down in the snow as they'd been shot during desperate attempts to flee. He hadn't come out completely unscathed, though, with the sleeves of his right arm slightly ripped and bleeding, and his body aching with a soreness he'd earned from being a little too close to a grenade blast inside the building.
He heard the sound of footsteps approaching behind him and turned to see Price coming up with his head bent, surveying the children that sat huddled before their feet. It had been a struggle to communicate with them. None of them spoke any English. They seemed terrified of Simon, gasping and clutching at each other any time he looked their way, but responded a bit more warmly to Price. The Captain had been overjoyed at the discovery of the children. He'd come over the radio with a tone of elation in his voice despite the absolute slaughter they had just caused - "I found the kids, Ghost. Come watch them while I take a look around the building."
And so, Simon did as he was told, somewhat awkwardly joining the huddle of small children that shrank away from like terrified kittens trapped in a cage. He'd held up his hands in a way to express that he was friendly, and meant no harm - but they all just stared at him as if he was a walking Halloween decoration. He'd searched all of his pockets in case he may have left any sweets behind, in vain. With no other way to win their trust, he'd gathered with them all around an area to the back of the building free of deceased soldiers, perching himself atop a plastic crate as he waited for Soap and Gaz's arrival to retrieve the kids.
Simon had never babysat before in his life. He wasn't much of a family-man, after all. But he hated the way their wide, innocent eyes constantly looked him up and down, just waiting for him to attack. Any time he moved or readjusted his position, their heads would snap up to make sure he wasn't about to lunge forward. He had no idea what they'd been through since being kidnapped from their quaint little homes and loving families - but you could see it written upon their fearful little faces.
He was lost in thought, distracted by the images he'd been greeted with when he and Price had infiltrated the building. They'd stormed in, locked and loaded, and were immediately met with those terrified gazes. He saw boys and girls alike, the eldest of them all surely no older than fourteen years old, working within the dirty and decrepit warehouse. Some kids stood upon plastic crates at the edges of the tables, bent over heaps of weaponry, working with dangerous tools without safety equipment. Even Simon had been disturbed, remembering a time he'd witnessed an unskilled comrade saw off a finger due to working without a safety guard, just like these children were.
He was snapped out of his reverie when one of the children let out a sharp gasp in front of him. His head snapped up, following the child's eyes down the path. There were Soap and Gaz, and what appeared to be one of the Russian villagers.
As if they hadn't been terrified only seconds before, the small group of children leapt up from the snow and dashed over to the man. They quickly surrounded him, jumping up and down, squealing and squabbling, tugging at his pants legs and nearly bringing him to the ground.
Simon stood up from his crate and approached slowly. Soap and Gaz wore the same expressions, glad to see they had all accomplished something besides absolute bloodshed for once.
Once he came close enough, Ghost opened his mouth to speak, being abruptly cut off by an insistent voice booming over their radios -
"Target engaged! Captured!"
There was only enough time for a single look to pass between all three of them before they burst into action. Ghost gripped the rifle across his chest and began sprinting to the other side of the building, Soap and Gaz following quickly behind him, dodging the bodies of the dead men that littered the ground. Their hearts raced as they could taste the end of this mission that had been ongoing for months now.
YOU ARE READING
Chasing a Ghost
RomantikYou've been a part of Task Force 141 for about six months now. You've cultivated strong friendships and a sense of family within the unit. But there is one person you've had your eye on the most. Your Lieutenant, Simon "Ghost" Riley, captured your a...