Rogue's Touch - Simon Ghost Riley (Call Of Duty)

Caught in the crossfire

Caught in the crossfire
Of a silent scream
Where one man's nightmare
Is another man's dream.

The night air whipped around us as Ghost carried me on his shoulder, his friend Soap hot on our trail. Panic surged through me, disbelief warring with the reality of the situation.

"Sir! Where are you taking me?" I protested, desperation coloring my voice over the deafening roar of the approaching helicopter. "You cannot arrest me, you have no reason to arrest me!"

Ghost gently deposited me into a seat near the window of the helicopter, sliding in beside me. Soap followed suit, settling into the seat beside Ghost. I found myself sandwiched between the two of them, the metal frame of the helicopter pressing in on one side, and Ghost's solid presence on the other.

"Hey, buddy," I pleaded with Soap,
"Can you please sit somewhere else? I don't want to end up being thrown out of the helicopter once it takes off."

But my words were lost in the din of the helicopter's engines, and Soap remained where he was, leaving me uncomfortably wedged between them. My shoulders pressed tightly between Ghost and the helicopter.

"Such a shitty situation I am stuck in." I cursed under my breath.

Zip ties were stabbing my wrists and bruises started to form.

The helicopter ascended into the night sky, leaving the sprawling city lights below us. Despite my prior experience with helicopters during my time working with the CIA, this situation felt infinitely more difficult.

Here I was, being taken against my will, with the man I had been sent to spy on sitting right beside me, his intense gaze fixed on me like a spotlight.

Refusing to meet his eyes, I turned my head towards the window, pretending to be captivated by the distant lights below. Meanwhile, Ghost and Soap engaged in a hushed conversation, their voices barely audible over the hum of the helicopter's engines.

"What will we tell Laswell?" Soap inquired, his voice tinged with concern.

"I'll handle it, Johnny. We'll do it my way," Ghost reassured him, his tone confident yet cryptic. Their conversation faded into the background as I struggled to maintain my composure.

Suddenly, a jolt rocked the helicopter, causing me to jump in my seat and emit an involuntary squeal. Instinctively, I reached out and tightly gripped the arm of the lieutenant sitting beside me, seeking reassurance in the chaos of the moment. But as my breathing quickened and my heart raced, I realized with a start that I was clutching onto Ghost's arm, my fingers trying to envelope his arm, an unintended display of vulnerability.

As our eyes met, I found myself captivated by the unexpected softness in his gaze. Those big almond-shaped brown eyes, framed by long blonde lashes, peered at me through the intimidating skull mask, yet they held a gentleness I hadn't anticipated. For a moment, I was at a loss for words, my usual bravado replaced by an unfamiliar sense of vulnerability.

"I-I... I'm sorry," I stammered, releasing his arm and averting my gaze shyly, a stray strand of hair falling across my face. His softened expression caught me off guard, leaving me feeling strangely unsettled yet intrigued.

As the helicopter continued its journey, Ghost's hand reached for his walkie-talkie, signaling our impending arrival. "Laswell! This is Ghost. We're about to reach," he reported, his voice calm and controlled despite the tension in the air.

"Roger that," came Laswell's faint reply through the static.

"Laswell!" The name echoed in my mind. I have heard this name before.

As the helicopter descended, I peered out the window, trying to make out the details of the facility below. Multiple buildings sprawled across the landscape, their outlines obscured by the darkness of the night. Despite the limited visibility, the sheer size of the compound was evident, sending a shiver down my spine.

With a gentle thud, the helicopter touched down, bringing us to our destination. As the engines powered down, I braced myself for whatever lay ahead, my nerves tingling with anticipation.

Ignoring Ghost's extended hand, I bristled at his gesture, my determination fueling my refusal. "No thanks. I have legs too," I retorted, shooting him a glare that could have pierced steel.

With a defiant leap, I exited the helicopter on my own, determined to assert my independence despite the pain shooting through my ankle from the earlier fall. Ghost strode ahead of me, Soap close behind, their presence a constant reminder of my vulnerability in this unfamiliar territory

As we made our way towards the looming buildings of the compound, I struggled to keep pace, my twisted ankle making each step a painful ordeal. Soap noticed my distress and immediately offered his support, wrapping my arm around his shoulder to ease the burden on my injured leg.

"Thank you," I murmured gratefully, a genuine smile flickering across my lips as I leaned on him for support. Despite his gruff exterior, Soap had revealed himself to be a surprisingly compassionate soul, his kindness a stark contrast to Ghost's stoic demeanor.

"You should've thanked our Lieutenant too," Soap remarked, his voice laced with sincerity. "He saved your life back there."

The reminder of Ghost's intervention sent a pang of conflicting emotions through me. While I begrudgingly acknowledged his role in my rescue, I couldn't help but feel a surge of resentment towards him for the predicament I found myself in.

"Yeah, he saved my life," I conceded, my voice tinged with bitterness. "But I also could have defended myself," I added pointedly, my words a deliberate challenge to Ghost's dominance.

As we entered the facility, the imposing door swung open to reveal a vast courtyard, its expanse illuminated by the harsh glow of floodlights. Inside, the main hall greeted us with its rows of chairs and a waiting area, while a wide corridor beckoned from the left, disappearing into the darkness beyond.

I was ushered down the corridor to the very end, where a foreboding room awaited - the interrogation room.

"You've got to be kidding me," I muttered incredulously, shooting Ghost a glare that he undoubtedly found amusing, given the faint smirk tugging at his lips.

"I need a doctor, now," I demanded, my voice laced with urgency as I gestured to my throbbing ankle and aching knee.

"You'll get one after the interrogation. Until then, you wait inside," Ghost replied coolly, his tone brooking no argument.

Ghost nodded at Soap who came forward and cut my zipties with a clipper.

"No way am I sitting in there," I protested, digging my heels in.

But Ghost had other plans. With a swift motion, he opened the door and unceremoniously shoved me inside, the door slamming shut behind me with a finality that sent a shiver down my spine.

"Fucking hell!" I cursed, the pain in my knee and ankle flaring up as I staggered backward.

Taking stock of my surroundings, I found myself in a cramped room, furnished with a small couch, a square-shaped table, and a water dispenser tucked away in the corner. A blinking red light atop a CCTV camera served as a grim reminder of my captivity.

"Now they'll enjoy watching me," I muttered bitterly to myself, my throat parched with thirst as I hurried to the water dispenser, filling a glass and downing it in one gulp. The cool liquid provided a momentary respite from the turmoil raging within me.

I drank two more glasses before collapsing onto the couch, my heart racing with apprehension. The impending interrogation loomed over me like a dark cloud, filling me with a sense of dread and uncertainty.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I lay there, broken and exhausted, grappling with the fear of what lay ahead. I was trapped, a pawn in a dangerous game of espionage with no clear path forward.