Captain John Price x Reader

Thirty-Five

Without paying much attention to what Price was doing, you managed to slip underneath the eyes of the shop owner and found yourself in the back alley.

With one hand in your pocket, fingers tightly wrapped around a knife, you let your eyes wander through the area.

There were stairs leading down into a small cellar.

The smell of something acidic crawled up the steps and into broad daylight.

Bakers sometimes used certain types of harmless acid to make sour dough or other kinds of bread. It wasn't unusual to smell this coming from a bakery.

But this didn't just smell acidic, it smelled harmful.

Taking one big breath was enough to make you feel lightheaded.

Pulling a face, you wanted to step back. But the stench was so disgusting that you lost your footing a slipped.

Someone caught you.

"Easy, luv.", Price whispered into your ear. "Don't you have a mask?"

A soft huff escaped you as you had to lean against his chest to gather your strength.

"Intel said Timo stored some here.", you mumbled, eyes heavy. "Fucker was lying."

He hummed, shoved an arm under yours and pulled you up.

"The people here aren't friendly.", his eyes jumped to the cellar. "He swore at me. Didn't buy the curious tourist gimmick."

You pressed the sleeve of your jacket to your nose and breathed in a few times.

The dizzy feeling faded. But there was still the taste of vomit laying on your tongue.

"If this isn't suspicious, I don't know what is.", you said and gestured with your eyes down the stairs. "We need to get in there."

He hummed.

His head snapped to the side, checking if someone was coming.

But the main street was so busy that it was hard to tell if someone was around at all.

"Sit down for a moment, luv.", he pushed you into a wooden box and reached into the back of his pants to check if the handgun was still there.

Trying not to loose consciousness, you grabbed the back of his shirt to hold onto it.

All of a sudden he froze.

His hand was laying on the handle of his gun.

You could tell that he was watching something. Or someone.

Quickly, your eyes jumped down to the cellar stairs.

"We should check downstairs.", you slid off the box and walked a few steps towards the suspicious smell again.

This time you made sure to press a sleeve to your mouth and not directly breath in the strange smell.

The closer you came the more you noticed how the air was flickering as if it was hot outside.

A huge hand suddenly grabbed your shoulder.

Without hesitation you twirled around, flipped open your knife and held it to the person's throat.

Unmoved, Price locked eyes with you.

"Stay back, luv.", he hummed, also breathing through the sleeve of his shirt. "I'll go first."

But you refused.

"You get the gun. I'll cover the front."

With a grim gaze he insisted on being the first to go down.

You could tell by the look on his face that he wouldn't argue about it anyways. And making a fuss would have only alarmed the people at the front of the shop.

Letting out a defeated sigh, you raised your hands and let him go first.

It was a funny thing to see, Price, the giant with his huge feet trying to walk down some small, 18th century stairs that led into a cellar with a ceiling so low he had to bend his knees.

As he was halfway out of your field of vision, you pulled out your knife and followed him down into the dark.

The guns that Timo had provided had come with suppressors. But being in the middle of the city meant a high risk of someone still noticing the sound of a gunshot.

With a knife the biggest problem would be to keep people from screaming their lungs out when stabbed.

But you had your ways.

A gush of hot, dried out air hit your face as you did the first step into the poorly lit cellar.

It didn't just feel odd, or smelled like a drug cave, the floor was also covered in plastic bags and stuff that seemed unidentifiable.

The smell, mixed with the strange room climate and the fact that everything looked off, you couldn't even tell if this was the place you two were supposed to be.

Price stopped and gestured for you to stand behind.

Your fingers danced along the handle of the knife.

There was light coming from a room to the right.

Dull voices echoed from the naked walls.

People were arguing.

Price leaned forward. For the hint of a second it seemed like he was being careless and risked his head for a glance that wasn't worth it.

But as he pulled back and did a gesture for you to retreat, it was obvious that something very interesting was going on inside that room.

"Four targets confirmed.", he whispered as he caught up to you. "Unidentified substances, likely drugs."

"Are they armed?", you asked, eyes firmly fixed on the escape route ahead.

"Enough to get blood all over us."

A huff escaped you.

"What does a bit of blood matter?"

Behind you, his expression darkened.

"If it's ours, a lot.", he growled but stopped abruptly and grabbed you by the shoulder. "You hear that, captain?"

You froze.

"Steps."

"Hm. Let's hide for now. We're not well prepped."

You weren't able to complain.

A plan was essential to help a mission be successful.

But truth be told, you and Price weren't prepared at all.

Timo's guns were help, but not a plan. Maybe they would even turn out to be traps and explode into your faces.

Either way, the success of the mission was threatened.

Both you and him were long enough in the game to know that sometimes a tactical retreat was better than a risk that wasn't worth it.

This environment, paired with the amount of possible enemies and the none physical threats set everything up for failure.

You had to take a deep breath.

The steps approached.

Price pulled you into a corner of shadows.

His arm wrapped around you. He pulled you so close, your back hit his chest.

"Clam, luv.", he whispered into your ear. "We'll fuck em' over by surprise."