Call of Desire

26. Reconnaissance

reconnaissance
/rɪˈkɒnɪs(ə)ns/
noun
military observation of a region to locate an enemy or ascertain strategic features.

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Content Warning: Teeny Tiny Little Bit of Sexual Content

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The anxiety made the air so thick it became hard to breathe. Soap stared out the window at the approaching city. He couldn't necessarily see it yet, but the glowing horizon was enough to hint that they were close. The bright stars faded as they got closer, more lights drowning out those in the distance. That is one thing he constantly missed about the Scottish countryside. He could always see the stars.

As a child, he spent more evenings than he could recall counting the stars. He missed his mother scolding him for staying out in the cold to look at the stars. He missed his brothers picking fun at him for it.

"Five minutes out," Nik called. "Pack your shit, get ready to move."

"Let's keep this quiet, silenced weapons and knives only." Price muttered, holstering his handgun. "Don't want to alert Makarov."

Obeying, Soap hesitantly placed all but his M4A1 in his duffel bag, attaching a silencer to the end. He felt naked without his shotgun. He didn't want to be caught unarmed again. First Las Almas... then Iran? His palms began to sweat, despite the cold.

"You're okay, Johnny," Simon muttered, fastening his throwing knives to the outside of his coat. "Here." He handed a knife to John. "Hide it in your sleeve." It was your standard flip-open hunting knife, with a helpful clip on the side. Clipping it to the inside of the sleeve of his jacket, John allowed himself to feel more secure.

"We're not going into the inner city, are we?" John muttered, checking the magazine of his rifle.

"No. Makarov has a building on the outskirts. He took over a deserted apartment complex." Price stated. "There's a building a few blocks away, an abandoned hotel. That's where we'll be."

"Rog'." Soap sighed, taking Ghost's hand.

"Shut off the headlights when we get closer, Nik. Make it easier to sneak in."

"Will do."

"When we get there, Soap, Ghost, Gaz, you will silently enter the building and clear it of any Makarov's men or whoever happens to be there." Price ordered, looking back at the three men.

"Copy, and check, sir," Gaz responded, examining and reloading his silenced handgun.

Tension filled the air like smoke as the dark building loomed closer.

"30 seconds out," Nik called, flicking off the headlights, darkness surrounding them.

"Stay safe," Simon whispered, squeezing John's hand.

"Regroup on the roof when the building is clear." The Captain muttered as the van rolled quietly into the hotel parking lot. "Move out."

Soap limped to the front door, pushing it open. Ghost and Gaz searched for an entrance on either side of the building. The light of his flashlight illuminated the lobby. Garbage littered the floor. Most of the furniture was knocked over, apart from a few tables and chairs.

He scanned the space, carefully checking every angle. Opening every door, he checked every room on the first floor.

"First floor clear. 7-1 moving to second deck," John muttered, standing at the bottom of the stairs.