~MOUSE~
The deafening roar of the military helicopter's blades filled the air as it lifted off the Island's rugged terrain.
Ophelia felt the powerful vibrations coursing through her body, the rhythmic beating creating a symphony of sound that drowned out everything else.
Seated in the cramped interior, Ophelia's senses were heightened.
The metallic tang of salt lingered in the air, a reminder of the tumultuous seas surrounding the Island.
The taste of salt on her tongue brought a rush of adrenaline, a stark contrast to the eerie calm that had settled within the confines of the helicopter.
Her short, curly hair danced wildly in the wind, a chaotic ballet choreographed by the helicopter's rapid ascent.
Strands of brown framed her determined face kissing the edges of her mask as she checked all her gear.
Ophelia's eyes scanned the horizon as the chopper whisked them away from the once-familiar shores.
With both hands gripping the sturdy fabric of her tactical vest, she clung to the sense of security it provided.
The vest was a second skin. A shell she was used to having.
Knives, gleaming in the dim interior, were strapped to strategic points on her body, each blade a silent guardian ready.
Ophelia's M4A1, a faithful companion through thick and thin, rested against her back.
The weight of the weapon pressed reassuringly against her.
The helicopter's interior was dimly lit, and the metallic surfaces reflected the soft glow of the instrument panels.
The rhythmic thud of the blades seemed to synchronize with the beating of Ophelia's heart as she took a deep breath through her nose.
Klaus flew the chopper, his beard rustling as he flicked and pressed buttons.
It made sense that his job was the getaway man of sorts.
Beyond the tinted windows, the landscape transformed rapidly.
The Island shrinking into the distance.
A mosaic of greens and blues unfolded below—a patchwork quilt of dense sea and the glistening expanse of the ocean.
Oni, O'Conor, Zero, Roze, and Askel occupied positions in front of her, each one locked into the focused anticipation that permeated the air.
The rhythmic thrum of the chopper's blades reverberated, creating a constant undercurrent to the tense atmosphere.
Beside her, König shared the compact space, the close quarters slightly pressing their legs together.
Ophelia's hand instinctively moved to the headset, adjusting it with precision as she kicked her booted feet up and crossed her legs.
The man beside her shifted away as her knee brushed his.
Ophelia fought not to roll her eyes as she watched him move as far away from her as he could.
The whir of the helicopter's engine and the occasional jolt from turbulence made a small smirk lift on her lips.
She'd always liked the chopper rides before a job.
It was like a roller coaster that fell off its tracks and flew through the air.
YOU ARE READING
The Mouse and The Monarch
Fanfiction~She embodied the essence of his world, a captivating masterpiece sculpted with the strokes of both his fervent passion and haunting despair~ Ophelia Moreau. Otherwise known as Mouse. A French Sergeant turned KorTac Operative who has major temper i...
