A Ghost Encounter: My Time wi...

By BumbleBre166

130K 2.4K 433

Breanna, an army Sergeant, has never been the easiest to get along with and has struggled to get close to peo... More

Author's Note
Character Context
Backstory for Context
Part One: The News
Part Two: Joining Task Force 141
Part Three: Settling In
Part Four: Mission Briefing
Part Five: This Can't Be Happening
Part Six: A Ghost Encounter
Part Seven: The Plan
Part Eight: Training
Part Nine: Shopping Spree
Part Ten: Pushing Boundaries
Part Eleven: What the Hell Just Happened?
Part Twelve: The Truth
Part Thirteen: Drinks
Part Fourteen: Tension
Part Fifteen: New Experieces
Part Sixteen: The Beginning
Part Seventeen: Distance
Part Eighteen: Iran
Part Nineteen: The Hotel
Part Twenty: Dinner
Part Twenty-One: Understanding
Part Twenty-Two: Can't Hold Back
Part Twenty-Three: Falling
Part Twenty-Four: You
Part Twenty-Five: The Bar
Part Twenty-Six: Rage
Part Twenty-Seven: What Now?
Part Twent-Eight: Denial
Part Twenty-Nine: After the Nightmare
Part Thirty: Moving Forward
Part Thirty-One: The Sex Club
Part Thirty-Two: The Performance
Part Thirty-Three: Hassan
Part Thirty-Four: Trigger
Part Thirty-Five: The Update
Part Thirty-Six: Let's Begin
Part Thirty-Seven: The Set-Up
Part Thirty-Eight: I Love You
Part Thirty-Nine: Breaking Point
Part Forty: The Great Escape - Part One
Part Forty-One: The Great Escape - Part Two
Part Forty-Two: The Great Escape - Part Three
Part Forty-Three: Discernment
Part Fourty-Four: Intimacy
Part Fourty-Five: Return to Base
Part Forty-Six: Chicago
Part Forty-Seven: Arch Industries Tower
Part Forty-Eight: Are You Ready?
Part Forty-Nine: The Push
Part Fifty: Shepherd
Part Fifty-One: The Victory
Part Fifty-Two: Settling Back
Part Fifty-Three: The Celebration
Part Fifty-Four: Tipping Point
Part Fifty-Five: Turn of Events
Part Fifty-Six: Goodbye
Part Fifty-Seven: Simon Riley - Part One
Part Fifty-Eight: Simon Riley - Part Two
Part Fifty-Nine: Devotion
Part Sixty: Making Amends
Part Sixty-One: Johnny
Part Sixty-Two: Brothers in Arms
Part Sixty-Three: A New Chapter
Part Sixty-Four: Breanna Roberts
Part Sixty-Five: We're Going Where Now?
Part Sixty-Six: Trepidation
Part Sixty-Seven: Burning
Part Sixty-Eight: The Departure to Afghanistan
Part Seventy: Mother Russia
Part Seventy-One: Where the Fuck is Makarov?
Part Seventy-Two: Getting to Know You
Part Seventy-Three: The Scrapyard
Part Seventy-Four: The Angel of Death
Part Seventy-Five: The Weight of Grief
Part Seventy-Six: It's Time
Part Seventy-Seven: Marching Forward
Part Seventy-Eight: Tête-à-tête
Part Seventy-Nine: Scheming
Part Eighty: The End of Makarov - Part One
Part Eighty-One: The End of Makarov - Part Two
Part Eighty-Two: The End of Makarov - Part Three
Part Eighty-Three: The End of Makarov - Part Four
Part Eighty-Four: Static
Part Eighty-Five: The Funeral - Part One
Part Eighty-Six: The Funeral - Part Two
Part Eighty-Seven: Please Don't Go
Part Eighty-Eight: One Month, Two Months, Three Months
Part Eighty-Nine: Las Almas
Part Ninety: For the Sake of the Mission
Part Ninety-One: Self-Destruction
Part Ninety-Two: Where is She?
Part Ninety-Three: A Ghost Haunting
Part Ninety-Four: Poking the Bear
Part Ninety-Five: The Intervention
Part Ninety-Six: Secondary Succesion
Part Ninety-Seven: Blossoming
Part Ninety-Eight: Yes
Part Ninety-Nine: You and Me
Part One Hundred: A Pursuit Of Happiness
Author's Ending Note

Part Sixty-Nine: The Innocent Bystanders

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By BumbleBre166

"You're joking?" I whisper to Price, hoping my seriousness is being conveyed.

"Nope." He shakes his head and pushes past me to greet Mateen and his wife.

What. The. Fuck.

I turn my head back around to see Price interact with the couple.

"Ah, Captain. It's been too long!" Mateen excitedly wraps his arms around Price and hugs him tightly.

Price laughs." It has been too long, friend. It's good to see you." After pulling away from the embrace he pats his hand on Mateen's shoulder and glances over at the woman. "Nahal, I'm happy to see you're still putting up with Mateen and his nonsense." Price clasps her hands and shakes lightly.

Nahal chuckles and says, "Always."

Mateen and Nahal speak English, which is fortunate for Soap and König who don't know how to speak Persian.

The two children run over to where their parents are standing and the little boy starts tugging on his mother's sari and asks, "Mom, who are these people?".

Shit, I forgot to answer him earlier.

Nahal responds in her mother tongue, "Do not worry, my love. They are friends."

"What are they saying?" Soap taps on my shoulder and whispers in my ear.

"That we're friendlies," I respond, whispering.

"Excuse me for being so rude," Nahal tells us, smiling/ "These are our children, Rayi and Mina."

I walk up to the children, squat down to meet them on their level, and begin to speak, "Nice to meet you. My name is Breanna."

They both giggle and hide behind their mom, smiling and peaking at us.

They're adorably innocent.

Another reason why they shouldn't be mixed up in this.

What the hell is Price thinking? I mean I get it. Mateen is a valuable asset but at what cost? I refuse to have a repeat situation like what happened to Darya. We cannot continue to be responsible for civilian casualties.

"Please, friends, join us inside." Mateen points to their home.

We make our way inside and the home is cozy; and peaceful. We all gather around the table while Nahal takes the children to their rooms.

"To what do I owe your visit?" Mateen asks Captain Price, taking a more serious tone than previously.

After taking a deep breath Price begins to plead, "We need your help. I need your help, my friend."

Mateen nods slowly. "Tell me more."

"We need you to take us to the airplane graveyard. We've received word that there have been sightings of Russian Ultranationalists at that scrapyard," Price informs.

Mateen looks horrified as his eyes nearly pop out of their sockets.

"Why would the Russians be in Afghanistan?" Mateen crosses his arms against his round belly.

"Zey are vorking vith Vladimir Makarov," König responds.

"Makarov..." Mateen stands to his feet and shakes his head. "I've not heard that name in a long time..." A muscle feathers in his jaw. "What is he planning?"

"World domination," I put it bluntly. "He believes Russia should rule over all."

Frozen in shock for a moment Mateen begins to speak, "The scrapyard is a dangerous place. If the Russians are there it will be quite the battle."

"One we're prepared for," Soap says confidently.

"And one I am not," Mateen retorts. "You should go..." Mateen begins to walk to the front door but not before Price stands to his feet and grasps his arm.

I'm not surprised. We're asking a lot of him. If he agrees to help us he also puts his family at risk. There are other ways for us to find the scrapyard...it just might take longer. So let's hope Mateen can't be easily convinced for the sake of his and his family's safety.

"Listen, Mateen. You do not want these men in your country. They destroy everything in their paths and it's only a matter of time until they decide to take over Afghanistan," Price warns, his voice strained. "We're not asking you to fight. We're asking you to take us there. After you show us the way to the scrapyard I swear to you, you'll never see us again," Price says wholeheartedly.

It feels very tense in this room and no one dares to move a muscle until Mateen makes his decision.

We sit in silence for what feels like forever.

"I'm going to regret this...but alright," Mateen sighs deeply and shakes his head. "But you better keep your promise. If I see you in Afghanistan again I will kill you."

Price grins, then so does Mateen, and they shake hands.

What an odd relationship they have.

"The scrapyard isn't far but I cannot take you there until I've arranged for my family to stay someplace safe. I will not allow any of this death and destruction to come back to them," he says deadly serious.

"I understand." Price nods.

"You're all more than welcome to stay here for the time being." Mateen pauses. "If you look outside behind the house there's a small farmhouse with hay bales you can use to sleep."

"That's very kind of you," Soap says.

We hear footsteps approaching.

"For you." Nahal rounds the corner carrying blankets and pillows. "To rest with." She smiles softly.

I approach Nahal, grab a blanket and pillow, and say, "Thank you for your hospitality."

"It's our pleasure," she says, smiling softly.

The rest of the team grabs their blankets and pillows and we make our way to the barn out back. It's exactly what you'd expect: covered in dirt and hay.

In the center of the barn are a group of hay bales. To the left of them are stables without any horses.

I wonder where they could be...

"I call first dibs!" Soap runs over to the hay bales.

"They're all the same, idiot..." I roll my eyes and laugh.

"Nah, this one's special." Soap pats his hay bale of choice.

Dork.

"Guess I'll take the one next to yours." I shrug my shoulders.

I don't feel comfortable sleeping in a foreign place so I'd like to sleep next to someone I wholeheartedly trust.

"I won't tell Ghost if you don't," he winks, his grin mischievous.

Old habits die hard.

"You're a dumbass." I flip him the finger and plop down on my hay bale.

Listening in on our chatter, Price chuckles as he gets situated on his hay bale.

"Do people sleep on zeze?" König asks.

"Not normally," I sigh. "But it's the best we got for now."

"I hope zey are not itchy," König furrows his brow.

"Let's hope not," I smirk, chuckling softly.

"Alright, team. Let's get some shut-eye," Price says.

"Sweet dreams, Captain," Soap titters.

"Shut up, Sergeant." Price throws his blanket over his head.

Haha, I love these guys.

It's been fun to get to work directly with them. Aside from Soap, I haven't spent too much time getting to know König or Captain Price.

Although I'm grateful for this opportunity I can't help but feel sad and a tad bit lonely.

I wonder where Ghost is. Have they landed in Russia? Is he sleeping on a hay bale? God, pointless racing thoughts...

The racing thoughts always come at night when I feel the most alone.

What if he dies?

Goddamn intrusive thoughts!

Just got to sleep, Breanna. Count sheep.

One sheep.

Two sheep.

Three sheep...

I wonder if Ghost is thinking about me too.

Twenty sheep.

Twenty-one sheep.

Twenty-two sheep...

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