Captain John Price x Reader

Thirty-Seven

They were talking about something.

At first it sounded like a casual conversation, a bit of getting louder, arguing in a heated manner only to fall back into laughter.

But as you approached the light that was falling through the door, the voices got clearer.

Your German was about as rusty as your French, but you did managed to pick up some bits and pieces.

"We need to finish fast.", the woman's voice sounded.

The way her tone sounded, she was determined. Definitely the leader of the gang.

"Can't the French wait?", a man asked.

"No. Time... schedule..."

Swallowing a curse, you scolded yourself internally for not keeping up with the language program.

It was stupid, usually the forces were fine with English, but now some good German skills would have come in handy.

After learning mandarin your European language skills had drastically declined. Learning Japanese didn't make it any better either.

At least you managed to pick up the important pieces.

Apparently, they were taking about some sort of mission that was planned to take place right in front of the city halls.

It was supposed to be a peaceful protest. But the way they said and chuckled about it afterwards gave away that this wasn't what they meant.

The smell of acid had turned out to be self made explosives, powerful enough to be titled terrorist tools on the news.

One of the men had talked about how they weren't fully ready yet but would do the job anyways.

In the end it all came down to a major even than the French weren't willing to wait on, so everything had to be rushed.

Unfortunately, they didn't say what part of France was about to experience history.

If they used Hamburg as a stage in Germany, there wasn't any guarantee that they would use Paris in France. Maybe they'd go with another city like Marseille or Lyon. Versailles would also be a good location.

If national history and treasures like the palace would be damaged, nobody would be able to ignore what was going on no longer.

The existence or a European terror organisation would make the news.

If that happened both you and Price were dead meat.

With your lips pressed into a thin line, you retreated back into the shadows.

Price's eyes fell on you.

"Change of plans.", whispered and gestured towards the exits. "Tactical retreat."

Not willing to complain in a situation like this, he gave you a nod of the head and followed.

"Fuckin' hell...", he gasped as fresh air and daylight blinded his senses. "How bad is it?"

"House is on fire.", you pulled out a flip phone and typed in a number. "We should get out of here for now. I'll inform the German officials."

You turned on your heel and basically ran out of the alley, back into the liveliness of the main street.

Price jumped after you.

His hand snapped forward, wrapping around your arm to make you stop.

You stumbled and fell against him.

Without a bulletproof vest and tactical gear all over him, his chest felt quite comfortable.

Like a pillow made of muscles and soft skin.

The thought made you blush. You faltered and almost dropped the phone.

He glanced down on you, wrapped his hand around yours and forced the phone shut.

"If you call the officials, our little friends will turn into a bloody mess and might do unforeseeable things.", he reminded you and wanted to take the phone. "We can't take that risk."

But your grip tightened.

"We need to warn them so they can act on time. They will prevent the worst from happening and everyone will celebrate, giving us the chance to vanish again."

"But as soon as we contact the officials our job isn't special task forces anymore. This is a top secret mission."

"It's an anonymous call."

His gaze darkened.

Again, he tried to take it from you.

But you were quicker than him.

With a swift movement you positioned your feet in a way to make yourself spin around him. You landed behind his back, out of sight.

The force made his hand slip and release the phone.

With a low growl stuck in his throat he turned around and tried to catch you.

Displeasure about this disagreement was shimmering inside the bright blue of his eyes.

You took a step back.

But the street was busy and you smashed right into a woman that was just trying to pass by.

Annoyed, she threw a glance to the side as one of her ear pods fell to the ground.

You stumbled and almost crushed it below your foot.

Out of reflex, or just because she was rude, she reached out and shoved you to the side with such force that you were yanked towards the edge of the refilling that separated the upper area of the shopping mile from the underground area.

A curse left your lips as you hit the small wall of safety glass.

Your hands reached out for the edge but slipped.

With your eyes squeezed shut you expected to fall and break your neck.

But all of a sudden a huge hand slid under you, pressed on your stomach and pulled you back.

Like a kid that was thrown across the room by their dad you were sweeper off your feet and hit something hard.

Heavy breathing pressed against your spine.

Holding your own breath you dig your nails into Price's hand that was still holding you.

"John!", you gasped. "Holy shit, I thought that would be it."

He shifted behind you.

A low hum escaped his lips that he had pressed into a thin line.

Then he turned to the woman to gift her a deadly glance.

Without paying much attention to him, she picked up her lost ear pod and walked off.

But after a few steps she threw a glance back over her shoulder to check him out anyways.

A strange expression was on her face.

She seemed offended, not because he was staring at her but because he had stepped in.

"We should keep an eye on her.", he hummed and moved you so that he could grab your hand like a boyfriend would do. "That wasn't an accident."