Reliant ~ [John Soap MacTavis...

Par stbones

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He narrows his eyes, his patience wearing thin. "You have a big fucking mouth for someone in your position." ... Plus

~ Introduction ~
I. Left for dead
II. A fisher hat, a skull mask, a mohawk
III. Too enigmatic
IV. Sore wrists
V. Doubting
VI. Reunited
VII. New faces
VIII. Price's Office
IX. A restless night
X. Three Dots, One Stripe
XI. The Photograph
XII. Flushed Red
XIII. Disassembled Firearm
XIV. Vanished From The System
XV. The Good In People
XVI. A Feeling of Dread
XVII. A Blacked-Out Funeral
XVIII. A Doable Plan
XIX. Aching Jaw
XX. Everyone For Themselves
XXI. No Celebrating
XXII. Quite Alike
XXIII. The Old Office
XXIV. Smoke
XXV. The Broken Lock
XXVI. A New Approach
XXVII. Dark Blue
XXVIII. Careful Not To Burn Yourself
XXIX. Folded Page
XXX. After Hours
XXXI. Lexi
XXXII. A Point For Effort
XXXIII. Work For It
XXXIV. The Belt
XXXV. The Envelope
XXXVI. Panic
XXXVII. A Crimson Desk
XXXVIII. Jay Carter
XXXIX. Wounded and Bruised
XL. Frosted Glass
XLI. Karambit
XLII. The Mirror
XLIII. Not Enough Training
XLIV. Ripped Stitches
XLV. Hollow
XLVI. No Splitting Up
XLVIII. Ironic
XLIX. Fixing
L. Thorns
LI. Purple
LII. The Injection

XLVII. Makeshift Tourniquets

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Par stbones

It's something with an F...

My mind works overtime trying to figure out the name of the leading tech guy who created the disablers. But because there's too much pressure on trying to remember that specific name, it refuses to come to mind.

"Fuck," I hiss, growing more frustrated by the second.

"It's fine," Ghost says, clearly aware of my frustration. "You'll probably remember when you see a name card or something."

I don't respond, knowing there's some truth in that statement. It had happened before, and Carter managed to remember Cal's name that specific way too.

It's worth a try.

We get down to the basement level where the tech department is located. It's bigger than the entirety of the building combined, with endless hallways of offices surrounding the middle of the factory part that holds some glass walls, some white ones.

"Eyes open," I tell Ghost. "Some parts of these walls are glass and there have to be people in the factory."

"Got it."

We sneak past some more offices, and I pay attention to the name tags on all of them.

Harris, Allen, Roberts, Miller...

None of these names ring a bell.

Then, my eye flickers over to a door that has an abnormal amount of damage. It's an office, though parts of the wood have splintered, and it looks like the lock is just barely holding on.

I press down on the handle and it moves, though it sticks, still refusing to open.

"Let me," Ghost says from behind me, and so I step out of the way.

A second later, he barges through the door, his shoulder used as a literal ram. He turns around, looking down at me with a hint of pride in his eyes.

"Thanks," I mumble, a small smile growing on my lips that I refuse to show him before I enter the office.

There's no one in the office but us, though the decorations still hang on the walls. The desk looks intact but damaged too, and I immediately think back to the struggle I had with Canmoore in his office. The scene reminds me of it, though there's no blood to be found here.

When I walk around the desk, I find a fallen-over nameplate, and as I lift it, I immediately know it's the name we've been looking for.

"Fraser," I whisper. "This is the guy I'm looking for."

"I don't see a guy."

"Christ," I shoot him a glare, before shoving over the nameplate in his direction. "Here."

"Fraser," he repeats the name, and it's clear that he hasn't heard of him before.

Just as he sets down the nameplate again, something sounds from the hallway. My head snaps towards Ghost, raising two fingers into the air. He immediately nods, and we both take a strategic position in the office, the door slightly ajar.

The footsteps quickly get near, and I push the gun that hangs beside my hip a bit more to the back. My jaw clenches before the two men appear by the door. Without hesitation, Ghost and I grab them from behind and pull them into the office, their voices stifled by our hands.

I lock my arm around the man's throat, grabbing him in a chokehold and tightening my grip. I've never seen the man, though it's clear that he has not been chipped. Or at least, isn't being manipulated by one. He struggles in my grip, clawing at the arm I've got wrapped around his neck.

"Drop it," I mumble as I notice him reach for his gun. He hesitates, but his movements become slightly sloppier, making it so that he has no other choice than to do it.

The weapons clatter against the ground. Two, to be precise.

"The knife," I add.

He gasps, and quickly reaches into his gear, taking out the knife hidden beneath the layers of protection. Predictable.

Ghost kicks out the chair behind the desk, and pulls another chair from the corner, still keeping a hold of the second man. The chairs are placed opposite of each other, making sure that the men have no way of quickly getting to one other.

I release the man from my grip and shove him right into the chair that Ghost set in place. He grunts from the sudden force, before gasping for air. I pull my handgun from my holster, making sure to point it to the man's head.

Ghost follows, shoving the other guy into the other chair too. "Fucking hell," the man grunts, immediately gripping onto the chair to get up. Ghost is quick to lean forward as he presses his gun to the man's sternum. "Sit."

"Who are you?" The guy in front of the barrel of my gun asks.

"Doesn't matter..." I tilt my head slightly. "What does matter is what the fuck happened here. Where's Fraser?"

"Fraser?" one of them asks, confusion etched in his features.

"Fraser..." I narrow my eyes. "You know. The guy from the office you're sitting right now. The office that looks like a fucking bomb went off in it?"

"Alex," Ghost calls for me. "This one knows more."

I turn to the guy who's sitting beneath Ghost. As I let my gaze travel over his features, I can tell there's something off. It does look like he knows something.

"Good." With a quick tilt of my head, I motion for Ghost and me to switch places, and so he does. I swing my gun a little as I face the new guy, a small smile playing upon my lips when I see his eyes change.

"So..." I hum. "You know me, I see?"

"You—" his mouth hangs open for a split second. "You killed Canmoore."

Correct," I smile. "So you know what will happen to you if you don't answer our fucking questions. Do you?"

His jaw tenses, his brow furrowing.

"So. I'll ask once more. Where's Fraser?"

"He's dead."

My tongue runs over the front of my teeth as I stare at him, growing frustrated. "What happened?"

"He was caught as a traitor."

Fuck.

"Tell me what happened here since Canmoore died."

He hesitates, his mouth kept shut and his jaw clenched tight.

"Come on," I smile, stepping closer to push the gun into his face.

"Someone else took over when you killed him. Weaponry production is running again. Guards have them too now. Some left. Some were killed."

"Some?" I ask, leaning in even closer. "There's no one in these halls except for some guards that seem to be in trance."

"Most.." he adds.

"Who took over?" I ask, standing straighter again.

"Gray did."

A scoff, something closer to a laugh escapes my throat from the unexpected name. "Gray..?" I let out a laugh. "Seriously?"

Gray was someone who I knew to be just a year younger than I am. I remember the way he used to watch us during training, always from one of the corners in the gym. He wasn't one to win. He wasn't one to take risks.

He was a nobody.

"Yes," the guy grits his teeth, his anger slowly rising to the surface. "Don't you dare say a bad word about that man."

My brows furrow even further before I let out another scoff in disbelief. Then, I lower my gun and release a bullet right through his thigh.

He groans out in pain, the muscles in his face pulled tight as he looks up at me. "You bitch," he spits out.

I raise my brows, giving him an expression that seems to ask 'really?' before the gun spins around my finger and points at his left foot. Another bullet flies through him. "Anything else?"

He whimpers in pain this time. "No, no, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please," he begs.

I lean forward. "That's more like it. Now talk."

"He—he got together a small team—the day after you came," he winces. "We just wanted—to continue what had been set in motion. Not—have it go to waste, you know?"

I turn around, already growing tired of the guy. Ghost and I switch places again, and the one who I started with looks up at me with widened eyes. "Well?" I ask.

"He's right," the guy quickly says. "I'll be honest, I don't know a whole lot. I didn't want to be involved in this at first, but Gray promised us good bonuses."

"I see how it is," I tilt my head. "Continue."

"We just continued the latest version, but the leading client kept asking for Canmoore. When Gray couldn't give him that, they abandoned the deal. Gray went and found another client, but there's less money involved now. I'm trying to get out of it all—really, I don't even know how we got here in the first place."

"Shut up," I sigh, just caring for the facts. "The guards. Tell me about the guards."

"They already had a chip, yet it wasn't activated at the time. The guards were turning against Gray, so he worked with one of the programmers to change the code to try to gain more control. It wasn't a success."

Okay.

That seems reasonable.

I look back at Ghost, and he seems to believe the same thing as he offers me another quick nod.

"Fraser was killed by Gray?"

"And his men."

"Fine," I mumble, having heard enough for now. I step back and Ghost takes out a second gun to point at the both of them while I turn to the desk. Without hesitation, I shoot open the locked desk drawers, trying to find one of the disablers that Carter had used on me a while back.

There's none in the drawers, so I work around the office, shooting open locked cabinets and trying to find hidden compartments, but nothing seems to hold the small device. When my hope nearly fades away, I turn to the single opaque vase in the corner of the room. I release another bullet at the neck of the vase, and the entire thing shatters into a million pieces.

There, in the middle of the broken shards of colored glass, lies the small device I've been searching for. "There we go," I mumble, more so to myself. I grab the disabler and secure it between my gear.

Ghost, who still stands with his guns raised, obviously waits for me to see what to do with these men. 'Do not kill anyone', I had said when we arrived here.

I lean forward to the guy who remained unharmed. "I trust you. You're the smart one of the two of you, it seems. I'm sorry I have to do this," I say before smacking the gun to the side of his head. Immediately, I turn around and throw the gun at the guy whose clothes have started to soak with blood.

Both of them are knocked out immediately.

"I thought you said not to kill anyone," Ghost mumbles, lowering his guns as I walk over to the guy with bullet wounds. He practically sounds irritated by the fact that he wasn't allowed to do that.

"Correct. And I haven't," I say as I rip off a piece of his clothing and pull my own belt from its loops. I quickly make sure to stop the bleeding from both wounds with a lot of pressure and some makeshift tourniquets. "They'll be just fine. Trust me."


A/N

So sorry, I haven't spell-checked this but I wanted to get this out before I went to bed. Just finished writing an exciting chapter that I can't wait to share. I'll come back to spell-check this chapter in the morning :)

Also, if you know Badjhur, check out the announcement I posted earlier today. EXCITING STUFF IS COMING <3333

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