T(H)RUST - Ghost x Reader

Chapter 1

The road is a simple dirt track, with roots and rocks making the journey bumpy and you have a hard time staying put in your seat.

"Only a few minutes away l/n," Captain Price says while turning his head around to look at you, "they will be meeting you at the house." You nod and he turns his head back facing the road. You look out the window and wonder how you ended up in this situation. 

Three days ago you had been called into the general's office and told you would be sent to aid on a mission with task force 141. They were going on a mission to find and destroy an arsenal full of chemical weapons made by the Mexican cartels, and they needed someone on-site to deal with tracking the shipments and help the 141 to plan their attack.

"They asked me for my best man, or in this case woman, and you were the first on my mind l/n." said General Stark when you asked why you were called to his office.

"But can't it be done remotely?" you asked fidgeting with your hands behind your back.

"No. Too big of a risk, the signals might get intercepted, we can not risk that. You will be picked up on Thursday by Captain Price, he will take you to their safe house in Mexico and will help you get situated." he explained and handed you a folder. You opened it, it was filled with files about the men of 141, your new colleagues. You skimmed over the pages and realized there was a photo missing on the last one.

"Shouldn't there be a picture here?" you asked, turning the folder towards Stark and pointing towards the empty space on the paper.

"No, never."

You still wonder about the last file as you look out of the car window. Why wouldn't he have a picture? Did it have something to do with security. But you would meet him, and see him, so a picture would not make any difference. Maybe he is just really really ugly? You smile to yourself at the thought.

The car starts to slow down and takes a sharp left turn. You look out the front windshield and see a lit-up cabin. It looks quite scary standing there in the middle of nowhere at night. The closer you get you can make out three shadows outside the cabin. The car pulls up to the house and stops. You grab the duffel bag next to you, packed with the bare necessities, and hop out of the car. You follow Price as he walks up to the men, placing his hand on the shoulder of the leftmost one.

"Welcome l/n, this is task force 141, they will be your company and partners for a while", Price says as he turns to the man he had placed his hand on "This is Sergeant John McTavish, we call him Soap. He does not know what that is though." The last part he says waving his hand in front of his face as to get rid of a foul stench. The Sergeant looks at him with a shade of hurt in his eyes.

"I'm kidding!" Price says. Soap reaches his hand out toward you and you grab it for a slight handshake.

"Welcome to the team." he says with an obvious Scottish accent. Your eyes meet and he smiles at you.

Price continues down the line to the next man. His name is Keegan Russ, also a sergeant.

"Pleasure." He says, smiling, while he too shakes your hand.

"And here we have the big boy", Price trots over to the man furthest to the right. You had been following Price closely with your eyes as he spoke so you had yet to take a good look at the last man. He was taller than the previous two, probably around 6'4 while the others were closer to 6 feet, so you have to lift your head a little to look at his face. But there is a mask in the way. "Lieutenant Ghost."

You reach out your hand, but he doesn't take it. After a few painfully tense seconds you position your hand back at your side. You look at his mask, it is a black balaclava with a skull painted on it. You try to find his eyes and when you do you freeze. His stare had caught you. It was so cold. Even if it was nighttime, the Mexico heat had made itself known, but his eyes send a cold shiver down your spine, turning into goosebumps as it travels over your arms. You break the eye contact and look towards Price instead, trying to shake the feeling of the man's stare off of you.