Knock, knock, knock!
Jessica opened the back door to see Price standing there. He motioned her outside and she sat on the grass. "Yes, sir?"
He dropped a limp rabbit to the ground and she snatched it up, tearing away fur and flesh until, in a matter of moments, it was gone.
"Damn," he mused. "I would think you haven't eaten in a week given that reaction."
"When you live off of wild game like I do, anything else just doesn't satiate." Her ears pinned back when she noticed a grey, distant look on Price's face. She passed her tongue over her maw. "Everything alright, Captain?"
Price stroked his beard. "You're off restriction today."
Jessica shifted and stood up, wiping her lips to dry the saliva from them. "What? I still have two days left; what changed your mind?"
"We found the Ultranationalist leader and where he's camped out. Looks like its a compund, and there's a whole host of Ultranationalist staff there. If we hit it, we may just disband the last of their group, and this will all be over."
She softly bit the inside of her lower lip, playing with the flesh between her canine teeth. "So, are you saying I'm going with you guys on a mission?"
The Captain nodded without making eye contact, his blue eyes trained on the street behind the fence.
"Why? I don't know you as the kind of man to spare me just because I might miss out..."
"Don't flatter yourself, it's not about you," he said, his gaze finally meeting hers. "I just don't want to go without you there."
"You've got Soap, Ghost and Roach; you'd be safe without me."
Price grasped her arm stiffly and leveled his face to hers. "No, you don't understand: I need you there." He took a quiet, slow breath and then continued. "Besides, MacMillain said we could use all the man power we could get, and all I'm missing is you. Please, don't refuse while I'm offering you a chance to get off early."
It was then that she noticed John's hand shaking ever so slightly. But somehow his face still looked sturdy... Almost too sturdy. Jess put her hand over his hand and squeezed it. "I'll accept, sir. I would rather fight by your side than stay in my safe little house here." Her mouth slowly curved into a spirited, devilish grin.
He responded to her expression with a plastic grin of his own and released her arm. "Come along, then. Get yourself ready; we're heading out of here by 03:00."
She dipped her head and watched him leave, her grin melting away to a look of concern. Something was wrong with him. He was never this nervous before a mission.
Price stood leaning against the door to Hangar 1, smoking a cigar. He was puffing out thick clouds of grey into the cold, autumn-night air. His pulse bobbed in his throat, his eyes were focused intensely on the ground before him.
Blood.
Searing pain.
He never told her...
He blinked and then flinched when he saw Soap standing in front of him.
"Y'all right, sir?" he asked.
Price nodded. "Yeah. I'm fine. Why?"
Soap slid his eyes to Price's lightly trembling hand. "Tea too strong for ya?"
The Captain narrowed his eyes with a jeering smile. "Yeah, mate," he teased.
Jessica bounded outside. "Come on, everything's ready. We should get going."
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Hotel Six: A Call of Duty Fanfiction
FanfictionAfter the Battle at the Bridge in Russia, Bravo Team begins their recovery back home, but the past clings tightly to Jessica's mind. When the Ultranationalists rebuild and begin to pose a threat, Task Force 141 is organized. However, something about...