Hotel Six: A Call of Duty Fanfiction

Chapter 14: In Coming!

-"For being our sworn enemy, they certainly had no problem letting us escape after giving us a good scare." ~ Rick Scott

Gal started when Ghost stroked her head and played with her ears. "We're rotating patrols, you're good to catch a few winks."

She offered an ever-so-vague grin. "Thanks, Ghost. Let us know if you see anything." She stretched on her way back to where the rest of the team was, and flopped down on her side. 

Next to her, Soap lay in his back, a bottle under his head, and his hands clasped on his chest. He noticed her laying down and flicked his fingers at a paw, to which she responded by nipping at his hand. "Ya finally gettin' off patrol?"

"Yeah," she groaned. "Nothing like getting ball watch and spending the whole time seeing nothing."

Soap nodded and settled down again. "... Hey, Gal, is it rude to pet your friend's head if they're a shapeshifter?"

"Nah, just a little weird," she replied. "But I don't care."

He laughed and briefly ran a hand over her head. "Good, I've always been curious about that."

She let out a satisfied rumble and scooted a little closer to let him continue petting her head.

They both suddenly jolted awake when Ghost and Roach urged them up. "Get up, get up!" Ghost commanded, grabbing Soap by the hand. 

"What's going on?" Jess asked.

"They've got a missile dialed in on our location, ready to fire," said Price, picking her up by the scruff. "We've got to move."

"Where the hell are we gonna go to get away from a missile?!" she asked. 

The team was already running the other direction, heading for the forest. "Into the trees; they'll have a harder time spotting us in there!" said Soap.

Jess tuned-in to the Russians' communications, and heard them updating their location.

"Three klicks north-west, and another group north-east about two klicks... Running to the tree line, stay on them." 

She looked at Price. "They're still tracking us..." she said.

Price's blue eyes rounded upon the Russian command...

"Fire away!"

They all dove for any kind of cover they could find- fallen trees, boulders, hollows in the ground- and Price grasped her by the hand and crouched over her beneath a huge log.

Laughter could be heard over the com. There was no missile; the Ultranationalists were toying with them.

Jessica was still, and could hear Price's heart pounding hard against his ribs. His breathing was ragged, and she could feel his muscles rippling. She looked at him and released a tense breath. "What the bloody hell..?"

He looked up, still panting. "They're letting us know they've seen us." He looked at Soap. "We need to get out of here."

Soap nodded. "Echo One-Five, this is Bravo Five; we're gettin' the hell outta here and goin' to the LZ. What's your status, over?"

"Copy, Bravo Five," he replied, a bit wearied. "We're getting out of here, too. No point in sticking around to see if the Russians are really just messing with us."

Soap nodded. "Copy. Over, and out." 

Jessica turned her head back. "Price?" she asked.

He started and realized he was still holding her. "Go on, let's go," he said.

On the ride home, Jessica noticed that John seemed really out of it. He looked stiffer than usual, and he held a thousand-yard stare. She was watching him intently and didn't move, not even when Ghost shook her shoulder.

"You awake over there?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yeah, I'm awake."

He cocked a brow. "Whatcha starin' at, then?"

Jess finally turned her head to him. "Nothing, I guess..." she said, her eyes finally following the motion of her head. 

Ghost chuckled. "I say you're lying, but whatever you say, mate." He was replied by a short, unamused growl.

They landed back in England in the afternoon and waited for instructions from Price. The Captain looked up at the sky for a moment and sighed. "You're all good to go until tonight; roll call's at 1830. Dismissed."

As everyone else walked away, Jess remained by him. She halted just abreast of him and waited until everyone else was out of earshot. "You alright?" she asked.

Price raised a brow and folded his arms. "Yeah, why?" he asked.

"You weren't looking so good on the flight home; I just wanted to check with you and make sure you were okay... I've never seen you that scared before on a mission, either."

He smiled and looked at his feet. "Well, I was pretty scared. I've never heard anyone dial a missile in on my coordinates," he said.

She laughed. "Yeah, me neither. It was quite an unwelcome surprise."

Price let his arms relax. "Are you alright after all that?"

"Of course," she said. "We survived; how much better could I be?" she chuckled.

He gave her a tired smile and was quiet for a few moments. "Well, I'm glad." He tapped her shoulder as he walked onward. "Go rest up. I don't want you too tired at roll call tonight."

Price slapped down a thick pile of cash on the table for the tender at the bar. "Scotch on the rocks," he said. Soap received his own drink- a Godfather- and raised it to the bartender in thanks before taking a sip. 

"So, what's going on, Soap?" asked the Captain.

Soap sighed, putting the glass down. "What was that today?" he asked.

He looked confused. "... I'm sorry?"

"You tackled Jess when we thought that missile was gonna hit; you didn't look well after that."

Price pursed his lips as the bartender passed him his drink. "... I guess it hit me today that she can die."

"Yeah," said Soap. "She can die, lots of times, apparently." 

"Yes, but... Have you ever thought about how many times she can do that? She's not immortal, that would defeat the purpose of her dying time and time again, wouldn't it?"

Soap shrugged. "Maybe. I don't know."

Price sighed. "What if she actually dies one day, Soap?" he asked. 

The Lieutenant was silent. "All of us do eventually, Price. Some of us, sooner than others." His blue eyes lifted from his glass to the Captain. "You can't waste time worryin' about it, and you can't let yourself get hurt to prevent it, either."

He nodded. "I know... I shouldn't have done what I did... I was just afraid that I could lose her..."

"... What're ya gonna do if she does die- for real- before any of us?"

Price was deathly silent, his glass pressed against his mouth. "I don't even want to think about it," he said. "I would rather be burned alive than see her take her last breath."

"I'm sure everyone on Bravo Team feels that way." He took another drink. "But, please, as your friend, don't get killed because you're tryin' to save someone. I've lost enough friends as it is."

The Captain nodded and raised his drink. "Here, here..."