𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐇, simon riley

neuf

"CAN I AT LEAST CHANGE FIRST?" Mari gestures to her clothes, still semi-damp with river water. Graves exhales, nodding reluctantly. "Yep. Can't go in wearing your gear anyways. Find something from the back of the truck."

Mari gives him a questioning look, circling around the back of the vehicle, which, she thinks to herself, is not really a truck. She pries the bottom of the trunk up with her fingertips, looking at the bundles of black material before her.

She raises an eyebrow as she sifts through the pairs of cargo pants and thinks of how much of a hassle this will be. The plan is to infiltrate a base out of which El Sin Nombre may or not be operating out of.

So, the most logical thing to do would be to offer them intel, with hopes of getting in. That is the plan.

Mari shakes her hair from its braid as she tugs her boots back on, appreciating the feel of the dry material that now hugs her arms. She rejoins the small crowd, kneeling to roll up the ends of the cargos.

She hears Graves chuckle, and looks him up and down with a look that could kill. Mari's too tired for this shit, and frankly, she finds him annoying.

"Are we ready to go?"

Soap nods, clapping her on the shoulder. "That we are. Let's go, lads." He eyes Mari. "And lass." She gives him a little smile as they all clamber into the Shadows vehicle.

Mari sighs, as Graves claps his hands. "Alright.
Margot—"

"Vie," she corrects.

"Vie, you and Soap there for intel on El Sin Nombre. You and Soap go in, give them intel. Likely they'll interrogate you one at a time, so whoever gets chosen first, the other snoops around. Got it?"

Mari and Soap share a look, and nod. It's quite a drive  there, but one that passes quickly as she stares out the back window, watching the dry desert roll past as Ghost's stare remains fixed on her.

"Señora," Alejandro snaps his fingers and Mari jumps ever so slightly, turning her gaze on him. "Sorry. Yeah?"

"Vamonos, we can't take you two further than this. No weapons. They'll search you. No kevlar. I'll meet you inside." He gives her shoulder a squeeze, and Soap and Mari climb from the back of the truck.

Approaching the gates to the establishment is... daunting, and Mari frowns when the gates easily swing open. "This feels wrong," she whispers, looking peripherally at Soap. For agreement, reassurance, she doesn't know.

"Agree—"

"Manos arriba! Pon tus putas manos arriba!"

Four men charge at them, M-16's raised, and Mari sinks down onto her knees, hands in the air.

Ghost watches through the scope of his weapon as the barrels of the guns are shoved against the two soldiers unprotected chests, their pockets turned inside out.

When the cartel members turn to converse and Soap offers them a badge sporting Shadow Company insignia, they grab the two by the shoulders and force them inside.

-

As much as Mari despises his personality, it seems that Graves was right.

Soap had been ushered into an elevator ten minutes ago, the cartel members whispering of El Sin Nombre's sicaria, jeering and shoving at Soap, their handguns fixed on his back.

He gave her a slight nod as the elevator doors closed, and she had nodded back. They had a job to do, and now they had to do it.

So Mari finds herself being forcefully led around a corner, the face of the man who has his hand wrapped so tightly around her arm is concealed by a balaclava. She winces as his nails dig into the soft flesh of her forearm, and is sorry for it when he jerks her down the hall.