COD Oneshots

Chained (Roach) Pt2

The mission had taken Roach and his team to a bustling market in Morocco, where the scents of spices and grilled meat mingled with the chatter of merchants and tourists. The sun beat down relentlessly, casting sharp shadows between the vibrant stalls. Roach's focus was on the task at hand—tracking a courier connected to an underground weapons ring. But amidst the chaos of colors and voices, something caught his eye.

There she was.

At first, he thought he was imagining it. The same cascade of dark hair, the same confident posture, the same enigmatic air. She stood near a fruit stall, seemingly inspecting a basket of dates, though her eyes flicked upward once, locking onto his. Roach froze, the crowded marketplace fading into a dull hum around him.

"Roach, you good?" Ghost's voice crackled in his earpiece, snapping him back to reality.

"Yeah," he muttered, tearing his gaze away. When he looked back, she was gone, vanished into the throng of people as if she'd never been there.

That night, back in his hotel room, he chalked it up to exhaustion. Weeks of missions had taken their toll, and maybe his mind was playing tricks on him. He sat by the window, staring out at the dimly lit street below. The city seemed quieter at night, the chaos of the day replaced by an eerie stillness.

Then he saw her again.

She stood beneath a flickering streetlamp, her figure bathed in its pale yellow glow. This time, there was no mistaking it—she was real. Her head tilted slightly, and as if sensing his gaze, she looked up. Even from across the street, her eyes found his with unnerving precision.

Roach didn't hesitate. He grabbed his jacket, bolted out the door, and made his way downstairs. By the time he reached the street, she was already walking away, her figure disappearing into a nearby alley. He followed her without a word, the sound of his boots echoing softly against the cobblestones.

She led him through a series of winding alleys, finally slipping into an abandoned house with broken shutters and peeling paint. Roach hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. The air was thick with dust, and the faint moonlight streaming through the cracks illuminated the room in a ghostly glow.

She stood in the center of the room, her arms crossed as she watched him enter.

"You've been busy," she said, her tone light but tinged with amusement.

"I could say the same," Roach replied, his voice steady despite the racing of his heart.

"Ask your questions," she said, motioning for him to speak. "I know you've got plenty."

Roach took a breath, steadying himself. "Who are you, really?"

She smiled faintly. "Y/N. Like I said before. But if you're asking what I am... let's just say I'm a problem solver. When someone has a mess too big for anyone else to clean up, they call me."

"And that mess back then? What was that about?"

"A rogue operative," she said simply. "Someone who knew too much and was selling it to the wrong people. I was sent to stop them. Your team just happened to get in my way."

Roach narrowed his eyes. "Why didn't you stop us?"

Her expression softened, just a fraction. "Because you weren't the enemy. And..." She hesitated, her gaze meeting his. "Because I respect cleverness. You noticed what others wouldn't. That intrigued me."

He didn't know what to make of that, so he pressed on. "Why did you come here? Why follow me?"

This time, her smile was more genuine, though still tinged with mystery. "Because you intrigue me, Roach. You don't stop chasing what you want, even when it's dangerous. Most people would've let this go. But not you."