The interior of the chapel was cool and dank.
"I'd rather not be fucking stuck in here with you," you growled, your SMG held at rest in your grasp as you entered the building. Ghost's footsteps were muted against the floorboards. How does he do that?
"Trust me, sweetheart, I'm not too thrilled about it either," he said. His rifle was pointed downwards, both hands clutched on its body.
You clicked your tongue, deciding to change the subject as you and Ghost sweep the area of potential threats. "Did Soap get shot?"
"Hm. The other day you didn't seem to care for him too much, and now you're asking if he's okay?"
"Putain d'idiot. I don't give a shit about him," you said coldly. "It was a simple question."
"He did get shot," he ignored your insult. "But he's alive. I know he is." He sounded uncertain.
"You sound unsure," you mused.
He didn't reply.
You felt awkward and tense, your shoulders and neck tight as you continuously readjusted your grip on your weapon, scanning the area for possible threats. Once seeing it's clear, you called out. "The area's clear. We're safe."
His body language was still firm and stiff. He turned on his heel and examined your body up and down. "You're bleeding," he said.
"What?" you blinked.
"Your leg. You've been shot, Lieutenant."
You gaped and gradually scanned down your body to your injured limb, genuine surprise washing over you when you felt and saw the bleeding darken your black trousers.
"Sit down," Ghost commanded, gesturing his head towards one of the pews in the chapel. You shut your mouth and stitched your brows together.
"No."
"Are you fucking crazy? You're injured. Sit down."
"No," you repeated insistently. "We need to get out of here and find Soap. I don't particularly care for him, but if we're gonna get to Austria and disarm that missile he'd be a big help."
Ghost sighed. "Have it your way. I don't really care."
You scoffed as the pain in your leg began to set in. It throbbed and pulsed, the bleeding becoming more prominent as time went by. You frustratingly forced yourself to walk through the chapel and scavenge for some bandages. You didn't find bandages, but after rummaging through some dusty wooden cabinets and shelves, you found some of the priest's robes.
You plopped down onto a pew and undid your belt, shimmying your pants off your body until you were left only in your undergarments. Mindlessly, you tore off a large and compact strand of the robe and began to tie it tightly and firmly around your wound.
There were a pair of eyes watching you heavily the entire time.
"What the fuck are you looking at?" you said, stopping to assess the expression he communicated through his eyes. From what you could make out, his countenance revealed slight embarrassment and confusion.
"What are you doing?" he asked rather quietly.
"Stopping the bleeding," you replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Bullet when clean through, so I'll be fine."
"Does it not hurt?"
"No," you jeered. "It doesn't. At least not badly."
"Damn."
You glared at him. "You were hoping it did?"
He said nothing.
"Tell me what you know about König," you demanded, changing the subject so quickly it would give someone whiplash. "You're hiding something about him to me. I need to know what it is."
He again said nothing, strolling through the area as if he never heard you. He stepped on shattered glass as he walked, it crunching beneath his boots. Dust swirled up into the atmosphere as he continued forward.
You tightened the cloth around your wound until you were satisfied and stood up, disregarding the pain shooting through your leg. You slipped on your pants and rebuckled your belt and gear. I'd be in a lot more pain if not for adrenaline, but even that's starting to wear off.
"Why won't you tell me?" you said. "Is he dead?"
"No," Ghost said lowly. He continued walking. It was starting to get on your nerves. He ignored your attempts at getting answers. He clicked on his walkie-talkie and flicked through the channels, calling out for Soap. He was visibly relieved when he discovered that he was alright, but Soap wasn't out of the woods yet — he was being hunted, and he was all alone out there on the streets of Las Almas.
Ghost updated him on everything and they conversed back and forth. You sat still on the pew, fuming silently to yourself. Ghost said one last thing to Soap before taking his gloved hand off his walkie-talkie and regarding you. "Odile. We need to take overwatch and cover for Soap. He's going to meet us and we're going to get the fuck out of here and go to a safe house a few miles from the city."
You arise from your seated position and walked slowly over to Ghost, each step echoing in the spacious and hollow chapel. The place was deserted and in rough shape, and the windows were broken and shattered, letting cool air in from outside. You approached him and your eyes met and locked, the contact long and heavy.
"What are you doing, Lieutenant? We need to go," he said aggressively, but he didn't raise his voice.
You hastily pulled out your SMG and put your hands against his massive body, pushing him against the wall a few inches away with all your might. His body slammed against it with extreme force and before he could even blink, your gun was right against his temple.
Any person in this situation would be terrified, but he didn't react, which pissed you off even more. Like the time on the ship, his eyelids were heavy and dim, and his blinks were slow, almost as if he had to remind himself to do it. Up close, you could make out every dent and scratch in his mask and it's wear was emphasized. His scent was musky; he smelled of sandalwood, salt water from the mission earlier, and dirt. You licked your lips.
"I will fucking kill you right here and right now if you don't give me what I want motherfucker," you said. "Fuck the mission. Fuck the Task Force. I've been looking for König for seven fucking years and I am not gonna let him slip away from my grasp now."
"Watch it, chérie," his voice was husky and mocking. "Don't do something you'll regret."
You smiled menacingly. "I won't regret it."
His breath was paced and calm beneath his mask, and this time you could actually hear it; you felt the rise and fall of his strong, sturdy chest. One slender hand was pressed against his chest to secure him in place, and you could feel his heartbeat thumping against your skin, along with the texture of his tactical vest. Your touch was hovering right over the British flag stitched onto the vest.
Before you could comprehend what was happening, Ghost grabbed your head from behind, his gloved fingers lacing through the dark strands of your hair and tugging against your scalp. He used this as a means to tug your head back and catch you off guard so that he could grab the arm the held your SMG and lower it, forcefully swinging your body around so that you were in the same position you held him in. His grip on your hair remained tight as did his grip in your forearm, the pressure making you yelp in pain and drop your gun.
His gaze was sharp as he pressed his body firmly against yours, putting his knee between your legs to prevent you from escaping. He tugged on your hair and pulled you closer, his face dangerously close to your own. You squeezed your eyes shut and panted, the sudden and unexpected exchange leaving you winded.
"You want to know about what König said to the commander before he left?" Ghost said in a harsh whisper, his off-white dingy mask grazing your cheek softly, the cool, hard material shooting chills down your spine. "Fine. I'll tell you. After you help us navigate Austria."
"Fuck you," you moaned.
"You wish you could."
Your head throbbed in pain and your gunshot wound pulsed from the extra pressure he was putting on it by his knee being in between your legs.
"I'll fucking kill you," you said your body twitching in fury, but another emotion rising inside you that you couldn't exactly put a name on. "When all of this is over and we get the missile in Austria, I'm coming for you."
"Why? Just because of a little vendetta?" Ghost said, his mask still only millimeters away from your face and brushing against your skin. His voice was deep and low in your ear, sending shivers all over your entire body.
"Anyone that plays with me does not escape alive," you forced out through the pain. "I don't care what it is or how purposeless my hatred is. People will learn sooner or later not to cross me."
"You won't kill me," he said. His grip on your hair tightened; you almost moaned out in pain.
You catch your breath and forcefully chortle humorlessly. "Really?" You wipe the fake smile from your face and scrunch your nose up in distaste. "You're in my way, enfoiré." You insulted him with passion and meaning. "Anyone with a brain knows that I will kill anyone that gets in my way."
"Good luck," he said simply, pushing you up against the wall aggressively one more good time and then backing up off you. You rubbed your head as he turned his back and started to stalk away from you, heading towards a beaten up and discolored wooden door on the side of the chapel. Right. He was going to take overwatch while we wait for Soap to get here, you recalled. You tried to massage the roots of your hair to make the pain disperse, but it wasn't quite working. Anger still boiled in your blood as you compelled yourself to walk after him to the door.
He turned the knob and the door squeaked, revealing a narrow wooden staircase with a supportive, smooth beam on the side. The steps creaked and groaned as he went up them, heading towards the second floor. The atmosphere was tense as you found yourselves next to another door, this one a rusty metal, that led to the rooftop. Ghost forced it open and you walked outside into the cool, wet air. It had stopped raining, but traces of the rain's wetness remained on the rooftop and buildings below.
Ghost wordlessly sauntered to the edge of the chapel's rooftop and set up his assault rifle, scoping out the area. Scornfully, you approached the other edge, ensuring to stay as far away from him as possible. You set up your sniper rifle and lay as low to the ground as you could, closing one eye and assessing the area below with the scope.
You called to Ghost through your earpiece, so it would be easier for him to hear you over the distant wind and natural sounds thundering in the sky. "I've spotted four walking around down low, armed with ARs and who knows what else." Your voice was strained.
"Visuals on the targets," he confirmed.
You made yourself comfortable, knowing that from up here you wouldn't be seen from the sheer height of the chapel and the fogginess outside — aside from that, there were also short, spiky black iron bars surrounding the rooftop; you had to sandwich the tip of your sniper between the poles to secure it in place.
Just then, Ghosts radio crackled, Soap's whispers and heavy panting sounding weak and unintelligible from the other end. You couldn't hear much of what he was saying, but you could make out Ghost's replies —
"Quite the opposite," he had said in response to Soap. His flirtatious tone made you weary.
"Are you done sucking each other off?" you hissed, zooming your scope in and following one of the Shadows right on his head as he walked thoughtlessly through the area below.
"Why? Are you jealous, Lieutenant?" Ghost teased.
"'Quite the opposite,'" you mocked, bringing his previous words up to throw in his face.
Ghost ignored you and continued talking to Soap, guiding him through the area and offering him intel on how to scavenge for weapons and supplies for protection. Soap said words of confirmation and quips in response to Ghost, making you cringe.
I really need a nap. Your head was throbbing, your thigh was pulsating from your gunshot wound, and your body was sore and weak.
Suddenly, you saw a man sneaking through the area, a shotgun held in his hands.
"Visual," you said briefly. "Far left alleyway."
"It's Soap," Ghost said.
Even though you recognized your teammate, you still had the strong urge to pull the trigger.
You packed up your stuff and moved over to Ghost, ready to depart from the chapel at any given moment. Soap can take care of this himself, you thought. There's only four.
"Odile. Get back down," Ghost commanded. "There's reinforcements. They know he's in the area."
You sighed through your nostrils and flicked your hair out of your face, ultimately having to peel it off your skin due to sweat. This time, you set up your sniper a little closer to Ghost to get a better visual.
The walkie-talkie crackled. "Huh. They're talking about Odile, Lt."
"What are they saying?" said Ghost.
"They're saying she's attractive." You could hear the eye roll in his voice. "God. It's like listening to a bunch of prepubescent teens. It's quite vulgar actually."
"What are they saying?" Ghost repeated, his voice more demanding.
"You don't wanna know." Before Ghost replied, Soap spoke again. "Oh. Now they're saying she's scary. Scarier than you. They're calling her-"
"Focus on the mission, Soap," Ghost interrupted. Damn. You were actually interested.
"Putain d'hommes," you said.
You heard gunfire and shouts as Soap navigated the area, Ghost guiding him through as stealthily as he could manage.
"Odile," Ghost said your name in a grunt. "Get on your scope. Still got that silencer on it?"
"Yes."
"Good. Take out the two behind the buggy."
You obeyed willingly, and did so perfectly. The men's bodies fell to the ground with soft thumps.
"Deserved," you said.
Ghost hummed and spotted one lingering off to the side, almost about to see the dead bodies. You were one step ahead of him, though, and you took the opportunity to eliminate him the second you got your scope between his eyes. You smiled.
"J'aime l'arôme de la mort masculine," you said, ensuring to direct your tone to Ghost. "It's relieving."
He did something strange with his eyes, and you assumed it was some sort of awkward failed attempt at an eye roll.
After about a minute or two, Ghost called through his comms. "Johnny, you're almost there. We're coming to you. We're getting out of here, so hang on tight, Sergeant."
Ghost turned to you. "Pack it up. We're leaving."
You didn't look at him and only squeezed your eyes shut, watching colors and watching geometric shapes dance in your vision. I seriously can't wait to take a nap.