I am frozen in shock, too afraid to look at what I already know is there: Darya's dead body.
In a matter of seconds, Ghost shoots Hassan in both of his legs, leading him to fall to the ground.
Farah stays with the group of hostages, trying to calm them down after they just witnessed the brutal murder of a child.
Ghost approaches Hassan, pinning down with his legs, yelling, and interrogating him.
But me? I can't move. I can feel my heartbeat in my ears. I'm trying to remember my coping skills...
After I was removed from my home because of my mother's neglect and stepfather's abuse, I was forced to attend therapy by a judge.
It feels so long ago but I remember my therapist teaching me how to cope with my feelings. But it feels too hard to do that right now.
What did she say? Deep breaths? Distractions?
I'm completely zoned out until I hear someone call my name. I look up and see Farah right in front of me, placing her hand on my shoulder.
Now is not the time to break down, Breanna. Keep it together.
And with that, I take a few deep breaths, come back to reality, and lay my eyes upon Darya.
I am instantly filled with a rage I cannot control and storm over to where Ghost and Hassan are. I grip my P890 and point it directly at Hassan's head.
Taken aback, Ghost looks up at me saying, "Wait."
No. I will not wait.
"You finally joined us." Hassan mocks me as he's pinned underneath Ghost, legs bleeding.
Completely ignoring Ghost's request I address Hassan.
"I have three questions for you, and you will answer them, or I will kill you," I hiss, my tone murderous.
Hassan smirks cheekily but his face quickly contorts with pain as Ghost applies more pressure on his wounds.
"Who are Darya's parents?"
Hassan remains silent.
So I shoot near his head, the bullet grazing his cheek, barely missing him.
This prompts Hassan to tell me who her parents are.
"Where can I find them?" I ask my second question.
Hassan immediately answers.
"Final question, and you better be honest..." I sneer at him.
"Spit it out," Hassan growls his impatience.
"Did you ever touch her?" My heart stops as I wait for the answer I already know the answer to.
I just need confirmation before I do what I'm about to do.
"Silly girl thinks confronting me will solve all her problems and change the things that happened to her," Hassan deadpans.
What the fuck did he just say to me?
"Did. You. Touch. Her?" I snarl, letting him know I will not repeat myself.
"All the time." Hassan's grin is feral, his expression prideful, and his eyes lifeless.
Something in me snaps.
Ghost catches on and anticipates my next move. "Breanna wai-"
Without hesitation, I pull the trigger and cut Ghost off with the loud sounds of a gun firing.
Hassan is dead, bullet to the head.
I feel myself fading again, my mind trying to dissociate, but I can hear Ghost's muffled screams telling me we could have gotten more information from him.
I don't care.
As Ghost bellows at me I approach him and softly slap his face. Not to hurt him, but to show him I'm upset as all the words I want to say feel frozen on my tongue.
Ghost tenses.
"I won't forgive you," I whisper, my voice shaky.
"I know," he responds, his tone grave.
We gather Farah and the other hostages, making our way to the front door, but I stop before we exit.
"What is it?" Ghost asks me.
Without answering, I turn on my heel and approach Hassan's lifeless body.
"Breanna," Ghost repeats himself as he watches me rummage through Hassan's pockets.
It has to be somewhere...Aha.
I pull out Hassan's phone, raise my arm, and wave it without turning around to face Ghost.
"You just so happen to know Hassan's password?" he scoffs.
I turn my head to the side, spotting Ghost out of my peripheral, and snarl.
"Use the emergency feature," Farah suggests, her tone seeming as if she's attempting to diffuse the tension.
I deeply appreciate her for that.
Using the emergency feature, I call Captain John Price. After a few rings, he answers the phone.
I explain to him our situation and our location.
"They're not too far from here, maybe 15 minutes. Evac is on the way," I inform Ghost and Farah, my tone plain.
They both nod.
"Think we can hold on till then?" Farah asks us, brows furrowed with concern.
"We have no choice," Ghost sighs.
We can hear the sound of men approaching the entrance to Hassan's residence.
The guards.
Farah tells the hostages to hide and take cover.
Ghost, Farah, and I stand in front of the door and wait for the barrage of men from outside to enter.
The room falls silent, the absence of sound a deafening ring in my ears. After a few moments, the front doors bust open with a bang, and the guards come storming in.
We take cover as the residence has become a war zone.
For those entire 15 minutes, we fight for our lives, bullets whizzing through the air, dead bodies dropping, and blood falling like spring rain.
THUD.
I see out of the corner of my eye that Ghost has been shot.
"Simon!" I cry out and crawl over to him.
"Mhm," He groans in pain. "Just the shoulder. I'm fine."
In a panic, I cut off a piece of my shirt and wrap it around his shoulder after I remove the bullet embedded deep within his skin while Farah covers us.
"I said I'm fine," he growls in pain.
"I don't care!" I yell, trying to focus on the task at hand.
Ghost places a hand on my cheek and says softly, "I'm sorry."
I know he is, but that doesn't change anything, it doesn't bring her back.
Sometimes I wish I could be like Ghost, almost completely disconnected from the rest of the world. It would make things a lot easier.
After a while we start becoming overpowered, running out of ammunition.
"Shit! What now?" Farah yells, her eyes laced with panic.
As the group of armed guards closes in on us we believe it's the end. That is until we see a hailstorm of bullets hit every single one of the guards and their bodies drop to the ground.
It's Task Force 141: Price, Soap, and Gaz.
"Breanna! Ghost!" Soap cries out as he rushes to us, helping Ghost to his feet.
Farah and Price see each other and pause for a moment, just staring. Price slowly approaches Farah and brings her into a deep embrace.
I wonder if their relationship goes deeper than we know. Their eyes and body language tell me that's the case.
Gaz aids in gathering all the hostages and loading them into a van.
It's been decided that Soap and Gaz will take the hostages to get medical attention and work with local law enforcement to help them get back to their homes.
Price, Farah, Ghost, and I return to the temporary base we set up in Iran.
- TIME SKIP -
Ghost was patched up by a medic and is resting in a temporary room.
Farah is having her injuries tended to as we speak.
That leaves Captain Price and I in the briefing room.
"Did we find the last missile?" I ask my Captain, being mindful of my tone.
"We did." Price nods. "Now we just need to go get it."
"Where is it?" I sketch a brow.
"Chicago."
"Chicago? Why?" I ask curiously.
"To shoot it at Washington," Price deadpans.
Fuck.
"When do we leave?"
Price arches a skeptical brow. "You and Ghost have finished your part of the mission. You can rest now."
No.
"I'm going to Chicago," I say with conviction, tilting my chin up.
Price knows by the look on my face he can't convince me otherwise.
"Hassan was supposed to fire the missile. Now that he's dead the missile is most likely in its location— a warehouse, unattended. We just need to go grab it."
"What about Graves and the Shadow Company?" I'll never forget that they sold us out to Hassan.
With General Shepherd's blessing.
"General Graves is no longer with us," Price sighs deeply. He looks tense.
So they managed to take him out...good.
"And General Shepherd?"
"After we take back the final missile we go for Shepherd and the rest of Shadow Company," Price says with determination.
Hell yeah, we do. Shepherd started this damn mess.
"Can I ask you a favor?" I ask cautiously.
Price nods.
"I need you to locate Darya's parents and give them her body," I say somberly.
He nods but then speaks, "Not that I'm complaining, but why not you?"
"I can't see them. I won't." My voice breaks.
Price nods in understanding.
I just can't look at them in their faces knowing we could have done more to save their daughter but we chose not to.
He chose not to...