Captain John Price x Reader

Five

"Rough night?", Laswell asked as she joined you for breakfast.

Humming, you glanced up to check if she wanted something, before biting a piece out of your slice of bread.

"Had good drinks and even better company.", you said and had to smile as the image of Price's reserved smile appeared before your inner eye. "How about you? Did someone get lucky yesterday, Katie?"

Sighing, she rolled her eyes.

The fact that she was bearing with it told you that she wanted something. Usually Laswell would try to cut conversations shirt with you or dodge them all together. But whenever she needed to have a serious conversation with you she just sat down and let you throw anything into her direction.

But you weren't in the mood to mess with her. The pints from the night before had drained a good chunk of your will to live.

It wasn't terrible, just a dull feeling pressing against your skull. It wasn't a proper headache but you didn't feel comfortable with it either.

"I'm all ears.", you said and kept on eating.

Surprised, her eyebrows rose.

"How do you know I want something?", she asked.

"Experience, Katie. Now don't waste our time, hm? What's the matter?"

With a deep breath she nodded, bend down to fish something out of her bag and handed it over to you.

Now you were the one to look at her in an expecting manner, telling her silently to put you into the picture.

"It's the information about your team.", she said and put the folder down next to you. "The mission has been granted. You'll be put in the position of captain."

You wiped your hands on your jeans and took a look at the files.

Immediately, you noticed a file that was tilted with a name that sounded familiar.

"Sergeant Garrick...", you mumbled and opened it to read through. "Any chance that his nickname is Gaz?"

She hummed.

"How do you know?"

You shook your head.

"Someone told me about him by chance... Yesterday was a good night, like I said. He's British."

"He is. Any problems with that?"

"Not really. By the way...", you looked up to meet her eyes. "What am I this time? American?"

Laswell grabbed herself your untouched cup of coffee.

"Surprisingly not.", she said after a few sips. "They wanted you, but the EU voted against us."

"So who got the deal?"

She smiled mildly.

"The French."

You pulled a face.

"Merde... My French is rusty."

She smiled.

"Don't worry. You'll be the only French unit so English will be fine."

"Holy shit... I've never been French before.", you frowned, trying to recall all the nationalities that went through in the past five years or so. "Or was I?"

Laswell nodded.

"Once.", she reminded you. "Years ago."

"Refresh my memory."

"Armee de terre. A secret mission down in Togo."

For a moment you had to think about it.

"Right...", you mumbled. "Someone tried to shoot me in the knee like a little bitch. I think I still have that guys index finger laying around somewhere."

Shocked, Laswell pulled a face.

"That's a crime!", she gasped.

You chuckled.

"Don't worry Katie. Just a little joke. That finger went back to Africa a long time ago. Even wrapped it nicely so that the guy would have something to be happy about."

Displeased and disgusted, she pulled a face and pushed the rest of the coffee away. It was obvious that she wouldn't be able to get anything down in the next few hours.

At the sight you had to chuckle.

It was strange, but despite her profession, Laswell was quite soft and easy to disturb. Her exterior was hard and reserved but as soon as you'd tell her about all one of the many fucked up things you've seen on the battlefield she turned into a missy.

"Anyways...", she fixed her blond hair that she kept tied up in a ponytail. "You're French for now. Codename and other identifications stay the same."

Understanding, you hummed and turned your eyes towards the files again.

It had been long ago since you've heard your real name. Sometimes you woke up from your sleep and didn't even remember it. At first it had been frightening to know that you were slowly loosing yourself, the only real person you've ever been.

But after years on the field and jumping between countries and continents you had made your peace with it.

Now you were just the way Laswell intended you to be, an empty shell without a sense of belonging, ready to transform into any shape they wanted.

You turned the page and again, a familiar name appeared before your eyes.

"Echo 3-1.", you mumbled to yourself. "Alex. There's no last name."

Laswell shook her head.

"He's similar to you.", she said. "But only for the US army and not all around the world."

"Huh. So that lucky bastard has at least a country to call his own."

"Are you unsatisfied with your position?"

You closed the folders and tossed them back to her side.

"Not at all.", you let out a deep breath. "One's missing."

She frowned.

"What is missing?"

"A member of the team. It's me as captain, Gaz as sergeant and Alex as CIA agent. That makes three.", you raised three fingers and wiggled them before her eyes. "I might not be the sharpest tool in the shed but I do know how to count to four, Katie. One's missing."

"We only settled on three."

You pulled a face.

"Bullshit. Every team has a minimum of four, one for communication, one for direct combat, one for far range operations and one to take the lead in command. I've been in this long enough to know that this is a must have structure. One is missing. And not even you can cut that one out. It's mandatory."

For a moment, Laswell stared at your fingers. Then she let out a deep breath.

"You won't like the fourth.", she finally said.

"I don't have to like em'."

"It's your new partner. You will share the position of captain with him. Work hand in hand.", she got up from her seat. "He knows what he's doing."

Annoyed, you looked after her.

"So do I.", you hissed to yourself. "Why make him babysit me?"