-TASK FORCE 141- *ghost x y/n*

-comfortable-

word count: 1,379

We arrived at the base just as the sun had almost completely gone down below the horizon. The blood orange sky was our only source of light as we traveled to the coordinates Gaz had sent us.

The base was a cleared out area with small buildings, tents, a few humvees, trucks, etc. It was tucked against a hill with several soldiers I've never seen before walking around and working.

We entered one of the buildings and found Price at a table, lighting a cigar. Gaz and Soap were seated and hunched over, eating from MREs.

"There's the duo. Took you long enough." Soap huffed at us as he shoveled another spoonful of chili into his mouth.

Ghost didn't even bother to roll his eyes at Soap's quip before speaking to Price. "Find anything else?"

Price took a puff, crossing his ankles on the table. "Found some boys who knew Al-Sami. They didn't say much until Soap took out his blowtorch."

"They said they were holding some stuff for Al-Sami, too," Gaz piped in. "We found more crates. They were empty, though. After that we tossed them to the side and stuck a tracker on a truck they had parked nearby. We were leaving through the city streets when I found a sewer with the lid missing. Might be worth checking out, it seemed oddly clean compared to the other covers on the roads nearby."

Ghost nods. I glanced around the bland room. "Where's Laswell?" I asked, noticing her abscence.

Price puffed more smoke out slowly, his eyes narrowing at the wall. "Don't know."

"I was gonna try and reach her in a minute on the radio." Soap told us.

I looked up at Ghost. He sighs. "Right. Dice and I will check that sewer out in the morning."

The captain stubbed his cigar out in an ash tray. "Alright. There's some empty tents by the hill. Go claim one."

Gaz slid two MREs towards me on the table. "And eat too."

✧༺♧༻✧

I sat against a stack of firewood as I made Ghost's MRE for him. He was busy reading a map, writing down info, and keeping track of practically everything we had done that day, so I felt like preparing a mediocre meal for him was the least I could do.

I poured some hot water into a tin cup and stuck a tea bag in it for him before setting it aside. I was stirring his chili in a pot I had borrowed off a random infantryman when he looked up.

"I can make my own food." He muttered.

"I know." I replied simply.

He watched me for a few more moments. Then he looked back down at his papers. "MREs are one of the few things I can cook, really."

I looked over at him as I set the spoon aside, grateful he was making casual conversation instead of his usual orders or talking about work. "You don't seem like the type to be a good cook."

Ghost glared at me. "Wow, thanks."

I shook my head. "I just mean, well... I figure you're worried about more important things to be learning how to cook."

He stared at me, seemingly searching my eyes for something, before mumbling, "...Yeah, you're right."

"Is there anything you can cook, though?" I asked as I spooned some of the chili into a bowl.