The gravity of their mission had finally settled over the team like a thick fog as they stood in the dimly lit room, the site of their climactic confrontation. Remnants of chaos lingered in the air, a stark contrast to the eerie stillness that now enveloped them. The echoes of the fierce battle had faded, leaving behind only the rhythmic hum of the building's cooling systeme. Each of the team's footsteps echoed on the walls, each of them carefully stepping over the bodies that litered the floors.
Task Force 141 had completed their objective. Hasaan was dead. The missile threat was neutralized. The world was a little safer, if only for a moment. And yet, as the team gathered in the same place where they had once entered, there was no celebration—only a shared, silent understanding that this was just one small piece to a puzzle.
"Mission over, Ghost," (Y/n) said, her voice steady but tinged with the exhaustion of the long battle. She glanced at the others, each of them reflecting the same tired satisfaction—no one had been left behind. They had all made it out alive, and that was what mattered.
"Yeah," Ghost replied with a hint of something close to relief in his eyes, though his mask hid most of it. "But we know better than to think it's over. We're just getting started."
Just as the team exchanged weary but knowing chuckles, their comms crackled to life with the sharp, ever-present voice of Laswell.
"Task Force 141, good work out there," she said, her tone matter-of-fact. "You've earned yourselves a break. Two weeks off. You've all earned it."
The team shared a surprised look, and even (Y/n) raised her brows in disbelief.
"Two weeks?" Soap exclaimed. "You're not pulling our leg?"
Laswell's voice softened, though her professionalism remained intact. "No, Soap, no strings attached this time. Enjoy it while it lasts. But after that, you've got work to do."
Soap's voice broke in, grinning like a kid in a candy store. "A vacation? What's that feel like? I'll be too busy keeping my head on straight to enjoy it."
"At least we get a break. " Price slapped Ghost on the back with a smirk.
"I'll take what I can get. First time in...well, I can't even remember when I last had some time off." Price slapped Ghost on the back with a smirk.
(Y/n) shot Ghost a teasing glance. "A vacation? You mean, like an actual one? You know, with no shooting or bloodshed involved?" She leaned in a bit closer to Ghost. "Guess we'll see how long that lasts."
"I wouldn't hold your breath." Ghost shrugged, a half-grin breaking through his otherwise stoic demeanor.
The words made the weight of their victory feel real. Two weeks of peace, two weeks of recovery. It had been so long since any of them had time to simply breathe.
(Y/n) leaned back slightly, stretching her tired muscles. "Well, that's one hell of a gift. But...I bet we'll be back at it before we even realize it."
"Always a catch," Price muttered under his breath, though there was no malice in his tone—just a reality he had long accepted.
Laswell's next words made the air feel a little heavier.
"When you return, we'll be tracking Shadow Company's remaining members. We also need to start keeping a close eye on Konni Group. I've uncovered some intel suggesting their ties to Vladimir Makarov. We'll need you ready for that."
The mood shifted subtly, a reminder that while the immediate threat was over, a larger, more complex one loomed in the distance. Makarov, Shadow Company...the task ahead was daunting.
"And here I thought we could relax for a bit." (Y/n) sighed, rolling her shoulders back.
"There's no rest for people like us." Ghost looked at her with a raised brow, his expression still unreadable beneath the mask.
(Y/n) chuckled lightly but couldn't shake the nagging feeling that they were always in the crosshairs of something worse. The job was never truly done.
Before she could say anything else, she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Caleb, and the rest of the former Shadows.
"You've got some people here who need you."
"What do you mean?" (Y/n) furrowed her brow in confusion.
"We've been talking. We need a new commander, and we want you to take the lead again." Caleb's voice was filled with a strange mix of pride and uncertainty.
(Y/n)'s heart skipped at the weight of the words. She had left that role behind for good reason, but hearing it from the men she had once commanded stirred something in her chest. The respect in their voices was strong. The longing for a leader was real.
She glanced at Ghost, who met her eyes for a brief, silent moment. He didn't say anything at first—just looked at her as if waiting for her to decide.
The decision came easily. She had fought alongside these men, bled alongside them, and led them when they needed her most. If they needed her now... well, that was a different kind of call. One that didn't require words—just trust.
"I'm honored," (Y/n) finally said, her voice steady but full of
warmth. "But I'm not sure if I'm ready to command again."
"Of course you are," Ghost said, stepping forward. His voice softened, genuine. "You've always been the one to lead us. You're needed there. I'll go wherever you go. We all will."
(Y/n) turned her attention back to Caleb, her heart skipping a beat. "Alright. A rebranding is needed though." (Y/n) pointed out
A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she said the words, the name echoing with a weight all its own. The men she'd commanded before were now with her again.
"Your chariot awaits, Commander." Ghost's deep voice resonated softly as he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. The warmth of his touch radiated through (Y/n), and he lifted his mask just enough to press a gentle kiss on her head, a gesture that lingered with an air of intimacy amidst the chaos around them.
From a short distance, Soap let out a playful whistle at the sight of the couple, his jovial expression quickly met with Ghost's piercing glare, a warning meant to keep his teasing in check.
"(Y/n)! A word, please?" Laswell's authoritative tone cut through the commotion as she waved (Y/n) over with an expectant look. Curious about what the woman needed, (Y/n) bounded toward her, the anticipation fluttering in her chest.
"It appears you've redeemed yourself," Laswell said, her lips curving into a proud smile that illuminated her features.
"I guess so. It doesn't feel like it yet," (Y/n) replied, furrowing her brow, lost in thought as she contemplated the events of the past few weeks.
"It'll kick in, in due time." Laswell's confidence was infectious as she handed (Y/n) a flash drive, the old Shadow Company insignia etched into its surface, "I believe this is yours."
"Kate, I don't understand," (Y/n) said, her eyes wide with confusion as she examined the drive.
"You have some recruiting to do, Commander." With that, Kate offered (Y/n) a quick side hug, a gesture of camaraderie before gently guiding her back toward the rest of the team. "AFTER your vacation." With that, she turned and walked away, leaving (Y/n) standing in the midst of packing gear and bustling with teammates.
As (Y/n) surveyed the scene around her, she felt a wash of emotion. Each member of her team was busy stowing away their equipment, a chorus of clanking metal and muffled conversations filling the air. The past few weeks had spiraled by in a haze, a whirlwind of missions and emotions that she had never anticipated would pull her back into the fray. But now, with a renewed sense of purpose and the weight of responsibility resting heavily on her shoulders, she made a silent vow: to never leave her team behind again.
Task Force 141 will return
YOU ARE READING
Specter's Redemption |Ghost x Reader|
Fanfiction'There he is, Simon Riley.' 'There's no picture' 'Never' 'And (y/n)?' Negative. Died six years ago.' 'Laswell slide a piece of paper across the table to Price. You have a call to make'
