A Little Life

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Writers Note: the next chapter is gone be LLLLLOOONNNNG so just bare with me. It will be just a few days but I'll try to have by the end of the week. We are getting to climax of the game but not the climax ;) of the story so just stay with me y'all.

TW: mentions of sexual assault, mentions of Suicide (not described), Ghost is turned on by knives.

"To go Mustang" is slang for going from being an enlisted soldier (sergeant, ensign, staff sergeant) to an Officer (lieutenant, captain, colonel).

I awoke an hour before I was meant to meet the rest of the team in the conference room, my stomach might as well have had a voice of its own telling me to get up and put food in it. After I slicked my hair into a military bun and put on a clean pair of cargo pants and Ghost's black hoodie, I found myself in the cafe on base completely alone.

My mind was on the information that Laswell and Ghost had given me the day before. I had racked my brain for hours thinking about anything that had happened that night, after we had cleaned my helo; anything that may have told them what happened to Alex. Although I didn't know anything about this man, he was an American special forces soldier who could be held by Russians. That was a good enough of a story to start a world war if the media got ahold of it. I kept coming up empty though. I downed two bagels with cream cheese and a banana before I checked my watch to see that it was 6:50, I needed to head over to the conference room.

When I arrived, Alejandro, Rudy, Soap, and Philip were already there, Ghost was missing, and Laswell was not there yet either. Part of me was slightly relieved, the awkward stares after the way he had spoken to me the day before would have spiked my blood pressure. At some point the two of us were going to have to talk about things, but it wasn't possible with Laswell in Mexico and an operation on the forefront of everyone's minds. It would be inappropriate.

But as I sat down, and the clock hit 7 am, and then 7:01, I began to worry. Ghost wasn't late like this unless something was wrong. "Where is Lieutenant Riley?" Alejandro asked Soap, who was swinging himself back and forth in his chair.

"He was still abed when I left this morning," Soap answered, bringing his cup of coffee up to his lips.

"You didn't wake him?" Alejandro jabbed.

"I'm not his keeper," Soap stated, "besides I don't want to be the one who wakes a sleeping monster like that."

"Why don't you call him?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows at Soap.

"I did, went straight to voicemail," Soap answered.

"Well go get him then," Philip commanded.

"Do I get hazard pay for that?" Soap retorted, eyeing Graves. Graves' mouth felt open, and his eyes flared, was Soap really so terrified of waking Ghost that he would refuse a direct order?

"For God sakes, I'll go and get him," I said, standing from my chair. Ghost would have been sleeping with one foot in the grave if he had forgotten to charge his phone and not woken up to Johnny leaving the room. I knew that he was tired, but I didn't know he was so tired that he would not wake up for work. Three days without sleep was pretty tough, but he had to do that often throughout his career. Operations didn't have time for rest.

I made my way to the men's dorms, and upon entering I found myself remembering the way the rooms in Altus Oklahoma had been in the Air Force. Men watched me as I walked through the hallways, some doors were open playing Latin music, I heard the sound of video games and the common grunting of men. It reminded me of a frat house.

I came to the door number that Soap had given me as I left the conference room, 627. It was a room around the corner at the end of the hall, closed off from the rest of the dorm rooms slightly. More private for base guests I supposed. I knocked once, then twice, then a third time with no answer. When I finally banged on the door and heard nothing I began to worry, there could be something wrong with Ghost, a medical issue? I turned the knob and entered the room that was pitch black aside from the light of the hallway illuminating it. I could see Soap's messy bed on the left side of the room. On the right was Ghost, laying facedown, with no blanket on, boots and cargos still on from the day before. Unmoving.

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