killshot | simon riley ✓

• Chapter 13 •

The nightfall came sooner than she thought.

Her foot stomped heavily on the dusty, dry ground, eyes narrowing as she scanned the horizon. She was glad the burning sun finally submerged, leaving millions of stars to shine above them, the heat of the day still lingering between the soldiers.

Even after two coffees, her headache didn't seem to disappear, a dull pain constantly lingering, making her a little more on the edge. Her temper was already pretty bad to begin with, let alone when she had a headache that clung to her like wet socks. It made her want to punch something.

And Hassan's face looked really punchable as Alejandro pushed him to the ground. Graves was busy with setting up a laptop on top of a car's hood, it angled so Shepherd and Laswell could get the perfect shot of the interrogation.

Rora pushed herself off the side of the truck she was standing next to, the sudden movement causing some black dots to dance before her eyes. She ignored them, shooking her hands off by her side, but a hand on her shoulder caused her to halter in her steps.

With a confused look overtaking her features, she turned around to see Ghost standing behind her, his eyes slipping to the others behind her before his dark gaze met again with her blue one. In the dark, the only light being some of the headlights of the cars around them, her eyes were dark like the deepest ocean, holding so much anger that he was sure she could set the world on fire and still laugh.

A scene from earlier flashed before his eyes, reminding him why he stopped her from participating in the whole interrogation.

Busting through the door, Rora was immediately sent to the floor by brute force, a groan escaping her lips.

Ghost was just behind her, the loud thud of her head banging against the dirty floor ringing some alarms in his head as he eliminated the threat. Offering her one of his skeleton-gloved hands, he pulled her to her feet, pretending to not notice the way she almost immediately lost her balance.

„Wells-" he called out, watching as she reached up to her temple, crimson blood tinting her slender fingers. It wasn't that big of a cut, but the bruising will be guaranteed.

„I'm fine, Lt.," she sniffled, dusting her hands off, flashing him one of her signature smirks. It didn't reach her eyes this time. „I've been through worse."

And with that, she stepped further into the room, Alejandro and Soap tackling down Hassan. The Colonel cuffed the man they spent so much time and energy hunting down, barely believing that he was in front of them.

Just as Rora wanted to make sure he wasn't just an anomaly, a daydream, perhaps, she picked her right leg with momentum, landing a hard kick into the knees of Hassan, harsh Arabic slurs erupting from his throat as a sinister smirk played on her lips.

„Someone get their bitch from my face!" he spat in front of her on the floor, a dark frown deepening his features, sending a hateful look to all of them.

„Woof," Rora taunted, squatting in front of him, her grip on her pistol tightening.

„What?" Rora asked, an impatient sigh leaving her lips as she shifted her weight on her legs.

„Fall back," he let his hand fall back to his side, tilting his head slightly to the side to get a better look at her face. „You're starting to take this to a personal level."

Shock made her eyes widen as she huffed out a breath, crossing her arms in front of her chest to stop them from shoving him out of her way, landing a hard punch to Hassan's face.

She had anger issues, and the fucking headache didn't make things better.

„What do you mean?" Rora quirked a dark eyebrow at him, straightening her spine. She wasn't that small of a woman, she never considered herself small. But standing next to him, she felt like a child trying to stand up to their parents, demanding justice.