Disavowed but Not Forgotten (Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 3 Fanfiction) ✓

Chapter 19

The farmhouse they were staying in looked like a place for tourists to take in the surrounding greenery as they are resting from a stressful life. Volkovce was a quaint village in the district of Zlaté Moravce situated in western-central Slovakia. With only a population of over 1000 inhabitants, Volkovce was the ideal place to lay low and think about their next move. From their position, they could see the houses scattered all over. No one was going to bother them in the fields except maybe an annoying raven that wouldn't stop cawing and the distant sound of a tractor revving away while clawing at the earth.

The agents at the safehouse were worse than the ones in Poland. At least the CIA agents would nod at them and address them with forced good manners. MI6's attitude was unwelcoming as ever and they spoke with a tone which translated as, 'Go fuck yourselves.'

"Pricks," Ghost had muttered.

Price wasn't bothered by this because for one annoying remark they would dash out, he would respond by doubling it to piss them off. After one morning of the constant bickering between MI6 Agent Crawford and Captain Price, the former had decided to lock himself in the security room and never came out until necessary leaving Price with a victorious smirk. None of the agents had even tried to talk to them from that moment on.

Roach knocked three times on the door and heard a weak 'come in' from the other side. He entered the room and saw Collins dozing off in the bed probably a side-effect of the drugs. He sat down on the bed near her and stroked her arm.

"How are you feeling?" he said.

"I've been better," she muttered. "At least, my leg isn't killing me anymore. And Mac... well..."

Roach squeezed her and gave her an apologetic smile.

"I know it's hard-" he started.

"Don't bother," she interrupted, rolling on the other side. "Heard it already when Daniels died."

He scratched his head as he tried to mask the awkwardness between them.

"I'm trying to-"

"I know. Listen, I'm tired. We'll talk later ok?"

He kissed her forehead but she didn't react. He sighed. He was tired of running after her. Should he forget about her or try harder? Women confused the shit out of him.

--- --- --- --- ---

A black SUV stopped in front of the Administration building at Fort West, New York. Nielson started walking towards it, rubbing his neck. He had spent three-quarters of an hour on the Agency's private jet and his back was killing him. Age was catching up to him and sitting down for long periods of time did not help his spine or joints. He shook off the pain in his lower back and proceeded to knock on a large wooden door.

"Come in."

He opened the door and took off his aviators. The office looked rich and welcoming with ornate bookshelves and a mahogany desk placed in the middle. Plants and paintings decorated the room giving it a luxuriant atmosphere. On the side, there was a sitting area with a glass coffee table. A man was sitting on an orthopedic armchair and stood up immediately as the agent came in. Nielson observed him; possibly sixty years old, his white hair combed neatly to the side. His skin may be wrinkling due to old age but his brown eyes spelled determination and alertness. His nose was crooked and his lips were so thin, they were on the verge of disappearing.

"Agent Nielson. To what do I owe this pleasure?" he asked as they shook hands.

"Mr. Gilson, I am here to talk about Lisa Malloy."

Gilson smiled and motioned for him to sit. Nielson was never one to shy away and hide. He was always to the point.

"Shouldn't it be better if all of the Board was here?"