Captain John Price x Reader

Thirty-Two

"You think the ID he gave us works?", Price asked as he followed you through the stairway that led down to the staff offices and laundry rooms.

"I don't know.", you pulled out the small plastic card to take a good look from all sides. "But we will soon find out."

The door was locked via a new kind of mechanism that worked both with a key card and a code.

There were numbers written on the back of the card you had. Timo must have written them but he also might have taken different ones that didn't work.

You slid the card through the mechanism.

One of the two red lights turned green.

"Well, halfway there...", Price mumbled and threw a glance over his shoulder.

You two had snatched some clothes from the laundry bin at the end of the hall.

Now, he was wearing a white shirt and a black vest, like one of the server boys.

You wore a cleaning staff uniform.

Being dressed different would make it easier to separate and discover on your own without being too suspicious.

You tapped in the code.

Your heart was beating wildly inside your chest.

It felt like a trap.

The screen flickered.

Some small clicking sound filled the tense silence.

If anyone would catch you it was over with this secret mission.

There was a policy that said, as long as special task forces didn't come in contact with the law, the law wouldn't look for them.

Basically, you and Price were ghosts, invisible, nonexistent.

Loosing that privilege would have meant immediate failure.

You sucked in a sharp breath.

And all of a sudden the door opened. Both lights were green.

"Fuck!", you gasped in relief. "For a second I thought he betrayed us."

Pulling a face, Price pushed past you to examine the room.

"Don't celebrate yet.", he skimmed the laundry carts for the promised weapons. "We're not armed up yet."

You checked the other side of the room.

A case with knifes caught your eye.

It was hidden in the deepest corner of the cart, so deep that it seemed like it wasn't supposed to be found.

You knew the brand, not a bad one, but it was usually used by hunters, not the German military.

"It will do.", you mumbled to yourself. "Take everything you can find. As long as it has a number of identification we can make them believe the Germans did it themselves."

"As always.", he pulled a huge box out of a corner.

"Rifle is on you. I'm not tall enough to hide it."

"Well, yeah, we should take handguns only."

A smirk appeared on your lips.

"Since when are you so boring? I thought you'd die for a good rifle."

He glanced at you.

A strange shimmer was visible inside this bright blue eyes of his.

Maybe it was amusement.

Maybe annoyance.

He was hard to read anyways.

Without trying to argue about it, Price placed the box on the floor and cracked it open.

"Hm.", his expression darkened. "We should not test our luck."

You threw a glance into the box.

It was easy to identify the handguns as the typical P30, military type of the German military. A P9 and P12 were in stock too, together with some silencers.

At first glance everything looked legit.

But if Timo really had switched sides, he could have done anything to manipulate the ammunition, the magazines or the barrels.

Everything could have been wrong about them.

Letting out a hum, you knelt down and picked one of the pistols up.

It didn't feel off. It had the exact expected weight of a handgun. The trigger didn't feel loose, nor did the magazine.

"Let's give it a shot.", you suggested. "He got us in here, he might as well give us the right guns."

"But why would he do that?", Price frowned.

"Only the devil knows. He was a good guy, really."

"No idea. Either way, it would be best not to risk it. We can't trust him."

"I don't. But I do trust this baby.", you wiggled the gun in the air. "Knifes look fine too. Treat yourself."

You rushed to the door to take guard.

Price armed himself.

His gaze wandered to you every other moment.

It was hard to categorise his facial expressions, but it was something between professional care and personal interest.

There was something shimmering inside the pale blue of his eyes.

You could feel how he stared at you, how his gaze pierced the flesh and bones of your back and tore deep scratches into it.

It felt like he wanted to give something to you that would last a lifetime.

You'd always remember how it felt when he stared at you.

A cold shiver crawled down your spine.

"You armed up yet?", Price deep voice seeped into your ear.

Surprised, you flinched and looked over your shoulder.

He was standing right behind you.

How did he managed to be so silent?

He was one huge giant, both tall and broad. And yet he managed to go unnoticed even to someone as skilled as you.

A normal person must have been terrified of him.

The corner of his mouth twitched. A smirk appeared, but it was so thin, it almost went unnoticed.

"Did I scare you, captain?", he asked and grabbed you by the shoulder to push you behind himself. "I'll push, if you don't mind."

At loss for words, you opened your mouth, but closed it again and just nodded.

"There should be an exit at the end of this corridor.", you said and pointed towards a thin strand of daylight. "Right into a back alley."

He started walking.

"You checked the intel?"

"You didn't?"

"Yeah, but I'm not good with remembering details."

A huff escaped you.

"Well, good that you have me.", you threw a glance into another corridor that crossed your way. "I can remember everything by reading it once."

The smirk on his face broadened.

"Well, lucky me then, eh?", he asked, almost chuckling.