Chapter 16

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Author's Note: If you have any writing tips, please feel free to comment.

Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills as a writer.   

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Chapter 16

MacTavish was sitting up in bed, reading. He was so used to the IV drips and other things being attached to him that sadly, it has become somewhat of a habit. The nurses had told him that he was lucky his mates got to him in time because his stab wound had reopened and the nurses managed to re-stitch it. If his teammates had waited longer, he would have bled out.

He shuffled through numerous papers containing a transcript of Malloy's interrogation. His head hurt and his body and muscles ached. The stab wound was fine, yet he felt his stomach being crushed. The heart monitor was beeping normally, yet he felt his heart had been ripped out and stomped on. He couldn't feel worse.

"Hey mate!"

MacTavish looked up and saw Ghost's smiling face looking back at him.

"Ghost! My friend!"

"How are you doing?" asked Ghost as he slapped MacTavish's shoulder in a friendly way.

"What do you think?" he groaned, waving the papers around.

"There's a lot going on," said Ghost, rubbing his eyes. "But I believe her."

"There's no reason for her to lie about this."

"Weapons of Mass bloody Destruction."

"I knew that bastard was up to no good," MacTavish sighed.

"Now we're waiting for the Agencies to make him talk," said Ghost sitting down. "Does this remind you of someone else?"

"Aye, Vaughn took a leaf out of Zakhaev's book. We stopped it once, we'll do it again."

"Seriously though, how are you feeling?"

MacTavish put the papers in the folder and threw it on his bedside table. He looked down and huffed.

"I'm ok," he finally said.

"Bollocks, you're not ok!"

"What the hell do you want me to tell you? She's just another woman for Christ's sake!"

"She is, but what matters is what that woman means to you."

"Since when did you become Dr. fuckin' Phil?! Just because you're in a perfect relationship with your Charlene, it does not make you a bloody expert!"

Ghost rubbed his neck and MacTavish realized what he had just said.

"Ah shite, I'm sorry mate. I didn't mean to-"

"No, I understand," said Ghost standing up. "Get some rest. You'll have to talk to someone about it eventually."

'Eventually,' he thought as Ghost left the room. Right now all he wanted to do was punch the wall and throw the chair out of the window. He was feeling everything but ok. He felt betrayed, hurt, anguish, frustration, helpless and weak. He lied back down and tried to get some shut-eye even though he already knew, that what he was getting was far than a night of good night sleep.

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Williams was downstairs trying to write a draft letter to explain Red's situation. She avoided Malloy every time they were in the same room. She knew that she has to update her on what has been going on. Being the leader of the ETF, even if it was temporary, wore her out. She wondered how Malloy even managed with the reports, PETs, keeping them in line and dealing with other useless matters. Williams turned to the letter. Her hand ached not to write anything at all and just forget about it but she felt responsible for her friend. She threw the pen on the floor in frustration and the agent who was near her threw her a dirty look.

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