"Πανταζή που στο διάολο είναι η ομάδα σου;!"
The loud sound of gunfire fills her ears as Layla sprays bullets across the street, her team rushing across as they engaged with an enemy team.
"Κύριε, έχουμε εμπλοκή με εχθρική ομάδα! Έγινε ενέδρα!"
Watching as a militia man decked out in armor pulls out a little girl, Layla stops firing and waves for a cease-fire. "Hold fire," shouts Layla, her Greek accent thickly layering the English.
"What the hell are they thinking," says a man on her left. "Don't know, but it's not good."
The man sets a gun to the girl's head, shouting for her team to hear. "We talk to leader of your group," he starts, shooting the stone in front of the girl's feet. She screams, loud sobs ringing through the air as she clutched a dirty teddy bear in her shaking hands.
Another scream follows, this time from a woman who runs out trying to retrieve her daughter.
A single shot rings out, the woman falling to the ground with the girl screaming.
"We talk now or she and others will be killed!"
Layla looks at the man next to her, who shakes his head. "Go around the block. Take out the men with hostages. Quietly. I'll distract."
Slowly walking out from her cover, Layla holds her hands up. "I'm here, don't shoot."
Her blood pumps as her heartbeat increases, the man holding the pistol up at her as she approached. "Gun!" Setting her M4 on the ground slowly, Layla keeps walking with her arms in the air. "Stop," he shouts, Layla immediately halting. "Let her go, then we talk."
"No."
Her fingers begin to twitch, Layla looking at the girl. "It will be okay." The man shoots at the ground next to Layla's feet, and the woman jumps. "Shut up!"
The hot summer air blows through the street, the smell of gunpowder overwhelming Layla's senses as she looks at all the bullet holes in the buildings and ground. "We can make agreement. Just, let her go."
The man throws the girl to the ground, pointing the gun at Layla. "Call boss," he orders, Layla reaching for the radio on her hip. "Κύριε, έχουμε κατάσταση ομηρίας. Είμαι εδώ με έναν από τους άντρες που τα κρατάει."
There was a moment of silence, the radio crackling.
"Hello, this is General Augustus. We understand you have demands?"
The man looks at Layla in surprise, eyebrows raised and mouth open. He recovers, holding his hand out and ripping the radio from Layla's hand.
He turns around, and Layla immediately goes to crouch down only for a bullet to hit her leg. She crumples to the ground with a gasp, a cry of pain escaping her as she grips the red cloth in her hands. The girl screams, scurrying away from Layla. She holds a hand out, shaking her head.
"No, it's okay. No worry."
"Pantazis!"
She waves a hand, looking back at her team as they all went running for her. "Stay back! It's under control!"
"That's very indicative of you being shot there, ma'am!"
The man glares at Layla as she slowly stands up, gripping her leg.
"Hold her," he shouts, pointing to the girl. Layla holds a hand out, the girl slowly taking it. Pulls the girl close, hiding her behind the woman as time ticked on.
The man begins to shout, Layla tensing as he finally whirls around. A deadly calm expression crosses his face, grip on the radio loosening.
"Is there agreement," her commander asks, the man shaking his head.
"No."
Bang
Layla sits up with a gasp, grimacing at the achy feeling all over her body. Black strands of hair fall in front of her face, the woman grimacing as she gripped her arm.
"You're awake."
She looks over, seeing Caveira who was checking her pistol. "Good. We were about to move out. Don't want more dead meat to carry."
Layla huffs, rolling out her shoulders only to lurch forward and grip the left one. Caveira looks up, humming. "Yeah, your right arm is useless. Don't bother."
Layla looks at her arm, seeing the bloody bandage wrapped around her shoulder.
"We got mile left until rendezvous." Caveira stands up, holding a hand out to Layla. She gratefully takes it, the two women walk over to a passed-out Glaz. "Has he not woken up yet?" Caveira nods. "We should move." Another nod.
The two women hoist Glaz up, Layla grimacing as she took most of the weight from the operator. They slowly drag Glaz out onto the quiet streets, hardly any words spoken between the two as they trudged down the deserted streets. "Why didn't helicopter come get us," Layla finally asks. "Didn't want the risk of damage. It's sitting in a park one mile out. The rest of teams one and two are waiting for us."
"And no team came to help."
"Too dangerous is what pilot said. Didn't want to lose other operators. Said they'd keep lookout and knew to keep eyes out."
Slowly the two women get to the rendezvous, Caveira halting as she sees Castle, Zofia, and Lion sitting in the helicopter with dazed expressions and dust covering their bodies. "Hey!"
Everyone turns to see the trio, a stretcher immediately being rushed over and Glaz set on it. "We didn't know you were coming otherwise we would've helped." Layla blinks confusedly, looking at Caveira who seemed equally confused. "I thought the pilot told you."
Ash frowns. "The pilot. . . said we wouldn't come."
Caveira nods while Layla walks past. She hops up into the helicopter and next to Zofia who gives her a smirk. "Good to see you made it out."
"Same to you," Layla murmurs, arm gripping her side as the throbbing continued in her shoulder. She leans her head back, a dark shadow covering her face.
"You look like shit," Castle chuckles. "You don't look any better," chimes Lion. Everybody piles in, Layla now sandwiched between Zofia and Thermite.
"I need a drink," she mutters, getting a snort from Thermite. "Same here."
The ride seemed short despite going well into the night, the helicopter finally landing in the early hours of the morning. People rush by, taking the operators away as soon as their tired feet hit the ground. Layla was swept away by a squad of doctors and nurses, quickly getting wheeled away as they stripped off her armor.
Her eyes were wide, gripping the handrails as adrenaline begins to pump through her body. "Miss. Pantazis, can you answer a few questions?" Her shirt was cut open, showing her body riddled with new and old scars as well as tattoos. Blood and dirt caked her body, fresh bruises covering her olive skin. She was quickly treated, questions being thrown at her throughout the entire ordeal as the blinding white lights above made Layla look down. She grips the side of the bed, hands shaking as she was cleaned up.
After three hours of questions going unanswered and tests being run, Layla was let go. She had a new shirt on but was in dire need of a shower. So grabbing her armor, Layla exits the medical ward.
She gets to her room, strips off her dirty clothes and trudges into the bathroom.
As soon as the hot water hit her skin, Layla practically melts to the floor. Exhaustion covers her body, and the woman sits curled up under the water as the dirt and grime wash off her form.
She scrubs at her skin until it was red and raw, begrudgingly stepping out of the shower after washing her body and wraps a towel around her. Pulling on a pair of loose pants, a shirt, jacket, and socks, Layla walks out with tennis shoes on her feet. She heads for the medical ward, ignoring the deep seeded desire for sleep clawing at the edges of her mind.
She stops a nurse, a serious look crossing her face. "Kateb." The nurse points to a room on the right three doors down, Layla nodding. She walks over, knocking on the door.
There was no answer, the woman hesitating as her scarred hand hovered over the doorknob. Taking a deep breath, she gently turns the knob and pushes the door open, careful not to let light into the dark room.
Her gaze lands on the still form laying in the hospital bed, various machines hooked up to him. The slow sound of the heartbeat monitor beeps, showing a somewhat irregular heartbeat but mostly steady. A bandage was wrapped around his head, a tube in his mouth and wires hooked to his chest.
Layla immediately closes the door, gripping her chest as she shakes her head. She then asks another nurse where Tachanka was, going two doors down. She opens it the same, seeing the hulking man now lacking any armor and fast asleep. He had a similar setup, but only had a mask over his face.
"Ace?"
She whips around, pulling the door closed softly as she looks at Lion. She nods, clearing her throat as she looks around. "What are you doing here?"
"Check on teammates."
Lion looks at his watch, Layla finally registering he was wearing different clothes too. Instead of the yellow suit she was used to, he wore a brown long sleeve and jeans. "It's five in the morning."
Layla shrugs, walking past. "Where are you going now?"
"Drink."
She was out, going to a bar area. "How did you know where this was?"
"Found it day two."
Grabbing a bottle of whiskey and a couple of glasses, Layla immediately polls down in a seat. She pours the drink, holding one out to Lion. He shakes his head. "I don't drink."
Giving a huff, Layla downs the glass before grabbing the other. "Your funeral."
She swirls the glass in her hand, chugging it too before pouring her third. "Do you drink often?"
She doesn't answer, instead stares at the large assortment of alcohol lining the long oak shelves, the dim orange light above giving a warm glow to them.
A few drinks later, Layla had her head resting in her hands. "What's wrong?"
Layla lets out a long sigh, rubbing her face. "I was useless entire mission. I couldn't even help teammates who were injured."
Her words slur together, Layla muttering under her breath as she rubs her temples. "Ace, you did your absolute be-"
"Don't patronize me," she growls, hiccuping at the end as the raven points an unsteady finger at Lion.
She sees that Lion was frowning, a mixture of emotions swirling in his eyes.
"Maybe you should lay off the drink."
"Or maybe you can stop acting like you know me." Layla turns away, pouring another glass. "Your right. We don't know each other." Swirling the drink in her hand, Layla glances towards Lion. He smiles at her, the raven looking away. "My name is Olivier."
There was a moment of silence, the woman groaning. "You're playing this game?" Lion nods. After a moment of thinking, Layla's nose flares as she stands up. She grabs the bottle of whiskey as well as a bottle of scotch, takes the glass, and slams down three 20-dollar bills on the counter.
Pausing in the doorway, Layla looks back at Lion who was ready to leave too. "Layla. . . My name is Layla."
1: Pantazis, where the hell is your team?!
2: Sir, we're engaging with an enemy! We were ambushed!
3: Sir we have a hostage situation. I'm here with one of the men holding them.