Chamber of Reflection - Simon 'Ghost' Riley x OC

Chapter Three: Strict Routines?

"A scare?" Her head tilted to the side.

"First day on base and we found your bed empty. Thought you might've done a runner."

"Takin' a break for one day wouldn't have killed ya, lass." Soap spoke up. "Almost gave your poor captain here a heart attack!"

At that, Smoke glanced over at the said man. Before they could lock eyes, she lowered her head, staring down at the matted floor.

"Well, if you're done in here, we can finish showing you around the base?" Price offered.

"Is it okay if I change?"

"Sure, of course, locker rooms are right behind you."

It must have only been ten minutes until that voice came again—

"Sorry for making you wait."

— that low, soft, smokey voice of hers. It reminded Ghost of having a cigarette after sex. The itching at the back of his brain, the craving for more of it, more of that special chemical needed to make his brain function; her voice was an addiction stronger than nicotine. Smoke had reemerged, dressed in her fatigues. Even in casual clothes, she was a bloody sight.

Ghost eyed her up and down. Her bare arms were exposed, muscles on display, honed from hours in the gym and years of military training. Discoloured splotches of black and blue peered out from just underneath her sleeves.

"Right, on our way then." Price said, and with a nod of his head, they filed out.

The military base was huge and much, much more modern than any other base Smoke had been to. It made her head spin, all the corridors and rooms and buildings— they couldn't have reached the cafeteria soon enough. Smoke eyed the buffet table at the farthest end of the room, with women and men serving breakfast. She could smell the eggs and hear the sizzling of bacon from where she stood.

"Why don't you grab something to eat, aye?" Price turned to her with a warm smile. "You must be starvin'."

"No, thank you, sir—"

"You haven't eaten." Cobra cut her off.

Smoke's hand twitched, knuckles flexing against taut skin. She drew in a deep breath before obliging, making her way over. The woman had unknowingly stepped into the lion's den. Heads slowly turned, watchful eyes following her every move, as she made her way to the other end of the room. It was almost comedic, how a simple woman could make even the most battle-hardened soldiers of the highest rankings, squirm around and drool like braindead mutts. Admittedly, there weren't many women on their base, even fewer that managed to captivate a room as she did.

She didn't seem to care or notice the gaze and whispers that surrounded her, merely grabbing herself an apple and a bottle of water, before returning to her team. Price, on the other hand, did notice, as he sent a pointed look to the men with leering gazes.

He placed a protective hand on her shoulder before suggesting. "Let's get you over to our meeting room now, yeah? We'll go over our schedule in there."

Smoke nonchalantly shrugged his hand off, with a curt nod of agreement. Once the team arrived in the meeting room, they settled in immediately. Soap threw himself into the rickety old office chair, propping his feet up on the table. Gaz was by his side, resting his arms on the table and his chin atop them, eyes fluttering shut. Ghost wordlessly walked over to the corner of the room, flopping himself down onto the couch, hands resting in his lap.

"Right." Price clapped, earning their attention. "Now Smoke, admittedly our routine isn't as... strict as what you're used to."

Her head tilted with a curious glint in her eyes but nodded nonetheless. Did he call Cobra's, routine strict?

"We expect you to be up at 05:00 hours every day. The team and I usually try to meet for breakfast around 06:00 but— that's not compulsory. For the rest of the day, we expect you to follow your usual duties and keep yourself busy. Whether that be by doing your chores, reading in your room or hitting up the gun range— don't laze around too often, yeah? Any issues so far?"

She shook her head. "Negative, sir."

Price had a boyish grin etched on his lips. "Perfect. Continuing, we meet at 18:00 hours every day to train and spar together. Compulsory."

"Now, while that is all... how you say, uh, 'fine and dandy'," Cobra spoke up, mouth twisted into a grimace. "Smoke will be sticking to my routine for as long as I am at this base. In terms of training, and such."

If looks could kill, Cobra would be buried six feet under. Hell, Price would shove him into the fucking coffin with his bare hands, or maybe lob it off a cliffside straight into the ocean. Anything, just to spare the sight of that sneer on his face.

He folded his arms over his chest. "With all due respect Cobra, Smoke is under my command. I've been appointed as her captain."

Smoke sunk in her seat a little at that, her head ducked down until her chin almost touched her chest. Ghost and Soap were watching the scene unfold, bewilderment spread across their gazes too. Gaz would share this sentiment if he hadn't fallen asleep five minutes ago.

"Be that as it may, what I said still stands."

Soap tried to intervene. "Look mate, she's part of our team now—"

"I am not your mate and this conversation doesn't concern you, sergeant."

A silence fell amongst them. That was a little harsh.

Price was frowning deeply. "There's no need for any of that. Point blank, Smoke will be attending our compulsory training, there's no room for discussion on that. And she cannot train twice a day."

Cobra glanced over at her. His stare was as uncomfortable as a rooster in a pond. There was no light behind that icy glare.

"Why can't she? It's nothing she cannot handle."