Captain John Price x Reader

Forty-Six

With a grim gaze, you and Price joined the other soldiers on the front line.

The beating of your own heart echoed inside your ears.

A soft wind chased through the leaves of the forest while birds called out.

Yellow eyes of an owl lit up in the dark.

The French had agreed to cooperate with the British.

America was always part of the party anyways.

Laswell had given word that Gaz was waiting with British forces on the other side of the area.

Alex and his unit were supposed to secure the east side.

Together, the French and the British would take out what seemed to be the confirmed headquarters of the terrorists.

Terrorists.

It wasn't wrong to call them that, but in the end they were far worse. Terrorists were people who wanted to reach a goal trough violence and oppression of others.

They came from unstable backgrounds, poverty, war, an unhealthy obsession with religion.

But the people who were sitting in the abandoned factory, deep down hidden in the Gascogne, were people of power, of money.

Some of them even had a decent degree of education.

They didn't have a reason to be terrorists.

All they were was racist assholes who wanted their own country to rule and come out at the top.

Their plan was to shatter the European Union and all the cooperating they had with Asia and the United States and turn their lands into the olden days again.

That meant no good, especially not after the history of Italy and Germany.

"Vous êtes les renforts?", one of the soldiers asked as you and Price appeared from the bushes.

He was of small build, almost looking like a dwarf next to Price.

Confused, you frowned and tried to gather the last bit of French that you still knew.

But Price was quicker to react.

"English, mate?", he asked and took a deep drag from the cigar that he had lit right after landing.

The thick strands of smoke danced through the air and painted a clear line to where he was standing.

This obvious sign had made you realise that the terrorists either didn't expect people to find them or they weren't as aggressive as first expected.

Price gave them a hint, a reason to be nervous.

But they didn't react.

At least not yet.

The Frenchman looked at you again.

Of course he did expect you to speak French, after all, you wore the uniform of his country and a patch with his flag on your chest.

"Nous sommes les spécialistes.", you managed to bring across in a very shaky French.

His eyes narrowed. He seemed to understand you weren't really one of his.

He turned away to tap a comrade on the shoulder.

They exchanged a few words in their mother tongue before one got up and rushed away to catch a superior.

"You must be sze people sze Americans announced, oui?", a soldier asked as he returned.

Quickly, you eyed him for patches and authority.

Not that you had a problem with authority.

But it was always good to know who you were talking to.

He was just a sergeant.

A charming smirk appeared on your face.

"We're all you could have wished for, sergeant.", you purred and leaned toward him to be able to see those green eyes of his in the dark.

Behind you, Price stiffened.

A bit of ashes fell from the tip of his cigar. As they stroked the leaves it sounded like the wind.

The sergeant gave a nod of the head, pulled out his communicator and muttered something in French before turning his attention to you again, totally ignoring Price.

"Sze secure channel is 17.7.", he said and gifted you a sweet smile.

You smirked.

"Thanks, sergeant."

"Come on, captain.", Price placed a hand on your shoulder and gifted the Frenchman some kind of look that could have been more than a warning. "Let's get going."

Without giving either of you a minute, he suddenly snatched you by the collar and dragged you along, into the wall of trees.

He took one last deep breath from the cigar, raised the glowing tip into the air and flipped it way.

Your gaze followed the glow, how it floated through the air and finally fell to the ground and disappeared into the mud.

You came to a stand on the edge of the hill you had landed on.

A clicking sound filled your ears not a second later.

"Echo 3-1, requesting status.", Alex familiar voice sounded.

A huff escaped you.

"You really did that to give him a sign, huh?", you mumbled to yourself.

It amazed you time and time again how efficient and slick Price was.

He had smoked to test if the enemies were aggressive. But the glow had also given Alex and his unit a sign where the allies were located.

A satisfied smirk appeared on Price's bearded face.

"Bravo 6 to Echo, we're up on the hill, three clicks out of the enemy area.", he said and gestured for you to take the lead. "We're comin' down. Get ready."

"Roger that. Echo out."

Pushing away the many branches that threatened to hit you in the face, you let yourself slide down the hill and into a small river that was running through the valley.

The sound of running water made your body grow goosebumps.

It was cold.

"Where would you go?", you glanced over your shoulder.

Gesturing with his head, Price told you to go north and follow the flow of the river.

It was hard to tell through the darkness how deep the riverbed went, but one wrong step would have meant loosing focus and causing attention.

Not far from where you were standing, a fence rose into the starry sky.

You did a gesture.

Price put on his night vision.

"Coast is clear.", he confirmed and let you walk all the way up to the fence.

As you walked to a spot that seemed right, you picked up a stick and threw it to check got electricity.

A small spark lit up.

"No chance.", you growled and looked up. "Check for a power distributor for me, will ya?"

Price looked up.

But before he could find anything, a bang tore the silence apart.