A Ghost Encounter: My Time with Simon "Ghost" Riley

Part Four: Mission Briefing

It's now the next morning and I am preparing for the day. The briefing meeting for our upcoming mission in Iran starts in about an hour.

As I get ready I can't help but think about my interaction with Ghost yesterday. What thoughts lie behind those dark cold eyes? Why was he staring?

Snap out of it, Breanna. He is not important.

I finish getting ready and make my way to the briefing room.

6:45 AM

I'm a little early. The briefing doesn't start till 7:00 AM.

It wouldn't hurt to just sit in the briefing room and wait, though.

I open the doors to the briefing room and to my surprise, there's another early bird: Ghost.

Oh, great. This should be interesting.

Ghost notices me as I walk into the room. He looks me up and down with a hint of disdain in his eyes, all while remaining silent, and then looks straight ahead once more.

What the hell? I didn't know the silent treatment was part of the Task Force's policy...

I keep my eyes on Ghost as I make my way to a chair that's a few seats across from his and take a seat.

Do I say something? Ugh, why does he make things so awkward?

Fuck it.

"Good morning, Lieutenant," I say softly, holding my chin up high.

Ghost side-eyes me, and without turning to face me, he curtly says, "Morning."

God, he's bland. At least he acknowledged me. If one can even count that as acknowledgment because that "morning" was pretty half-assed.

"Do you know anything about this mission?" I continue trying to make conversation.

He stays silent.

What. The. Fuck. He's pissing me off.

"Yes or no? Or is the question too hard for you?" I snap, my temper growing with each second.

Ghost turns his head to face me, his eyes narrow slits. "I do. Now be quiet," he commands.

Ghost looks straight ahead again.

Now be quiet? Rude mother fucker. I'll be quiet when I want to be quiet.

"Tell me what you know," I implore. My hands are in fists as my fingers scrunch up the fabric of my pants.

Ghost lets out an annoyed sigh.

"The briefing starts in 10 minutes. You can wait." His tone leaves no room for argument.

Dick.

I mean he has a point...but he told me to be quiet so I'm gonna keep talking just to piss him off.

Two can play this game.

"Then tell me about you. Is what I've heard true?" I feign innocent curiosity as I arch a brow.

He refuses to face me again, but the way his body tenses tells me I've captured his attention. "And what have you heard?"

"That you're not to be messed with. That you're a cold killer in a shell of a man. That you've committed countless war crimes. I've also heard that you're rude and have a temper," I say arrogantly, not thinking of any potential consequences for my words.

He finally shifts his body a little to face me.

"And you believe everything you hear?" Ghost's eyes are assessing. Assessing what exactly, I'm not sure.

"Ah well, so far everything matches up," I say smugly.

I can tell by his eyes, the lines forming by them, that he's frowning.

"Maybe you should learn to mind your own business," Ghost hisses.

My nails dig into my thighs as I continue to clench the fabric of my pants, my grin only getting tighter as I get angrier.

Ghost's eyes drop to my hands for a millisecond before they're back to piercing my own.

"Defensive are we? Guess that means the rumors are true," I scoff and try my best to deflect.

He remains silent.

Guess that's the end of that conversation.

He and I continue to sit in painfully awkward silence until the rest of 141 joins the briefing room.

I recognize everyone except for one new face: an older bald man. By the way he's dressed, I can tell he's important.

"Good morning, 141," the man says. As he does this he looks over at me and pauses.

"You must be our new recruit. I'm Commander Shepherd," he greets me warmly with a small smile tugging on his lips.

"Sergeant Breanna Roberts," I introduce myself.

Shepherd nods his head and turns to face everyone once again.

He begins to go over the details of the mission.

"As you all know there's been recent terrorist attacks and threats to the U.S. It's our job to put a stop to it. The terrorist organization is Al-Qatala, located in Iran. The leader of the organization is Hassan Zyani."

As Shepherd says this Laswell begins passing out files to everyone regarding the details of the mission.

"This mission involves locating and securing three U.S. missiles that were taken by Al-Qatala," Shepherd continues.

Confused faces riddle the room.

"What? How the hell did Hassan get his hands on American missiles?" Soap asks, almost panicked.

"How Hassan got his hands on American missiles is something Laswell will investigate. For now, the focus is on taking them back," Commander Shepherd says firmly.

The commander informs us that this is also a rescue mission.

"Hassan has several women and young girls—children—held hostage not only for his personal pleasure but for sex trafficking. One of the hostages is a female associate of Task Force 141: Farah Karim."

The entire room audibly gasps.

"Dammit," Price growls deeply.

I take it this Farah person is someone important to 141.

"Based on our source's information, Hassan's current whereabouts are unknown. Yet, in two weeks he is returning to Iran." Shepherd pauses for a moment, assessing the crowd. "There are several parts to this mission: locate and secure the missiles, rescue the hostages, and kill Hassan."

Captain Winters was right. This is a big mission.

But why do they need me?

Commander Shepherd clears his throat.

"Lieutenant Ghost and Sergeant Roberts are the key players in this mission. You two need to work side by side to rescue the hostages and take Hassan down. The remaining members of 141 are tasked with locating and securing the missiles."

Shepherd then turns to look me dead in the eyes.

"Breanna here is our biggest playing card. To rescue the hostages and kill Hassan, Breanna will go undercover as a sex worker to infiltrate Hassan's private residence where the hostages are being held. It's your job to get her there Ghost," Shepherd tells us, his tone deadly serious.

Wait, hold up....you've got to be shitting me.