The Bullet's Mark (Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 3 Fanfiction)

Chapter 17

    My dream had been so realistic it made me gasp awake in the middle of the night. I stood and sauntered over to where our rifles were leaning against a short wall of the top of the church, pondering whether or not to trust the mental images or not. The memory of Blackjack coming into my mind left me trembling with a drop of sweat at my brow. 
    "Is everything okay?" 
    I didn't look over my shoulder as Soap joined me at the lookout point. "Of course." 
    "Don't lie." 
    "Just some nightmares. Probably the pressure of the mission getting to me." 
    "Want to explain?" 
    "I don't know if it's a warning or just jitters," I admitted, feeling his fingers stroke the back of my arm in comfort. "Probably the latter." 
    "If there's something you need to get off your chest then do so." 
    I hesitated, twisting to look at Soap's determined eyes. "There's nothing." 
    He believed me, his eyes shifting to the glowing clock across the square. "You need to finish getting some rest. We have a few hours to go." 
    "Hard to rest when I know that this is almost over," I responded quietly. "You know, literally everything falls on this man. Our fallen comrades, distraught team...our history." 
    "I hate to say it but Makarov has also given us many opportunities...good ones," Soap breathed, sitting back on our mats and taking me into his arms gradually. "Our team has grown stronger than ever and he's given us the drive to finish the job." 
    "He's not a good man." 
    "Never." 
    My mind wandered back to my dream...my past experiences. Blackjack hadn't been Makarov's fault but the betrayal and planning of it all reminded me too much of him. While I was confident we had him under our boots now, a part of me didn't like the situation very much. We were too spread out...overconfident just as he was being overly careless. 
    "I know you don't like to share it, but I know you have a history," Soap began. "When you first came onto the Task Force, I did some digging. You don't have to share it, but I know whatever happened in your past bothers you deeply." 
    I hesitated, listening to Soap's deep breathing and feeling the warmth his body gave off as we huddled in the cover of our post. He was here and he was fully present in the moment. There were no immediate dangers around us, nothing to distract him from the situation. Soap, I knew, had only mentioned the past because he was genuinely concerned and he wanted to know. My entire being knew he deserved and had a right to know—as much as I had wanted the past to stay just where it belonged. 
    "Blackjack is what I dreamt about," I began, releasing a longer breath.
    As I began to explain the story, the dream incorporated too, I could feel Soap hold me tighter. He was silent the entire time, his blue eyes narrowed as he focused on my words, and for the first time in months I actually felt heard. 
    "I can understand your doubts now," Soap commented once I'd wrapped everything up, including the end to Erek's life and how I ended up at the Task Force months later. "You have every right to question decisions and whether or not things will work out, but I promise you times are different now. There's no more internal betrayals, no more complex enemies. Makarov is our one and only target. After today he won't be a problem any longer. You won't have a reason to doubt anything ever again. I promise you." 
    It was Soap's way of trying to comfort and reassure me, though I didn't think I needed such until he said it. I gripped his uniform and rested my head against his pectorals. His hand came to the back of my head, squeezing and pulling me closer as he pressed a long kiss to my forehead. I closed my eyes momentarily, allowing the moment to just be. 
    "Thank you John," I murmured, feeling odd using his real name but loving the shiver that resulted from him. "I love you." 
    "And I love you," Soap whispered, tilting my chin up to place a warm kiss on my lips. 
    I rested there for a moment longer, allowing the tiredness to seep into my bones once more. Before I completely fell asleep the comms buzzed to life; Roach was reaching out. 
    "How are you holding up over there?" 
    I shifted, realizing Soap had fallen asleep in the short time we'd been in silence. Gingerly, I reached over to our radios, turned them down, and then sauntered over to the edge of our outlook. Roach and Yuri were off to the left, hunkered down until the sunlight hit once more. 
    "Soap is getting some shut-eye." 
    "Yuri and I can't sleep worth a damn...figures the old man would be out. It is past his bedtime after all." 
    I smirked to the joking tone of Roach; he was always so lighthearted in most situations. "Better watch yourself mister." 
    Roach chuckled into the comms and then paused. "I had an odd dream earlier." 
    "Oh?" 
    "Sounds ridiculous but I was dying. Over and over again. The oddest part was that I was in a cushioned chair and no one was around me. Makarov came into the picture though, and I got my chance to put a bullet in his brain right before I died." 
    "What have you been smoking Roach?" I managed to sound easy-going and I could sense the shrug through the radio. "I had an odd dream too, not worth mentioning of course. I think it's just mission jitters. We all want him dead." 
    "Yes," Roach agreed. "Yuri here seems to know quite a bit about him. After talking earlier, we know the security will constantly be rotated. We won't know what vehicle Makarov is in until he steps out." 
    I narrowed my eyes. "Interesting. How'd he learn all that?" 
    "Some assignments back in the day," Yuri came into the comms. "My team and I were close to getting him." 
    "A Russian who's always been against a fellow Russian," I paused and glanced to where Soap shifted in his sleep. "Very interesting indeed." 
    "Just remember it's the same Russian who pulled you out of a freezing river." 
    I couldn't help but chuckle to his response. "Well said Yuri." 
    "Glad you two are finally getting along," Roach grumbled. "Thought I'd have to lock both of you up in the same cell." 
    "All right," I glanced to the clock, noticing the morning was approaching faster than ever. "Cut the chatter. It's close to time and we need to focus. This cannot fail...we've worked too hard." 
    "Copy that," Roach paused. "See you tomorrow after this is over...Fox." 
    "We'll drink to it," I paused. "If you're old enough to do so." 
    Roach laughed deeply. "Good one." 
    "All right, time—" 
    "Hey Sam," Roach cut me off. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I love you. You've become one of the best comrades I've been lucky enough to serve beside." 
    I felt a ball in my throat shift. "And the same goes to you Roach...I love you too." 
    The comms went silent after that and I knew Roach had officially gone quiet. I set the radio down again, shifting on my haunches to view the glowing clock. The giant hands had shifted a little too quickly, a little too sneakily. 
    "Finally," I whispered to myself. "This ends today Makarov."