killshot | simon riley ✓

• Chapter 6 •

„I say again- Hassan has American missiles."

Ghost's voice echoed in her head for minutes after they discovered the missiles the AQs were protecting. It just didn't make sense in her mind – and being American, she kind of felt betrayed, there was a storm inside her head. How did Iran get their hands on this? How come the whole building they were hiding the missiles in, wasn't on their intel?

She had too many questions and no answers.

And Rora hated being left in the dark.

With her natural distaste for living and the numerous acts of being considered a burden, her mood was off, to say the least. With a permanent scowl on her face, she tapped her foot impatiently at the hard ground, waiting for the helicopter to land and get them out of there.

Her boots clinking against the metal flooring, she strolled on the heli, her rifle dangling off her shoulder, hitting against her hip with every step she took. It was a familiar feeling, almost comforting in a way – the dull pain in her shoulder, the sweat and dust tinting her neck and face, the adrenaline still pumping in her veins, all of those feelings she was friends with. Finishing up a mission always filled her with joy and calmness, except this one.

Mostly because they didn't finish it.

They missed Hassan, found no trace of him, only found some missiles that indicated some bigger problem than they originally thought, and she wanted nothing more than that bastard in front of them, kicking the shit out of him.

°•○●⸸●○•°

After clearing the second deck, they came across an empty room, nothing but some paper with nonsense written over it and a random jacket thrown on the back of a chair.

„Look," Soap gestured for them to come and look at what he found. Rora made sure to put more than enough space between her and the lieutenant. „Hassan's uniform. So he was here."

„Sneaky little shit got away," Rora hissed, a scowl twisting her beautiful features.

„Lost him when we secured the crash site," Ghost pointed out, his voice calm but in his undertones there hid some disappointment.

Soap turned around, facing Ghost, Rora looking at him at the same time. Her eyes met with Soap's for a moment, before they went back to Ghost's face, trying to read any emotion from him.

Of course, it was impossible.

„Are you sayin' we shouldn't have helped?" MacTavish asked, a hint of accusation deepening his voice.

That thought appeared in her mind, too. That maybe, if they were to ambush the third building before securing the crash site, maybe they were able to catch Hassan in time. But that meant leaving men behind, and Rora never ever left anybody behind.

That was the only thing she swore on, even though she wasn't that big of a team player. Nobody gets left behind.

The two men stared at each other for a brief moment, the tension between them thickening with every heartbeat.

„Choices have consequences..." was Ghost's answer, shrugging his shoulder.

By hearing his words, an unknown weight pressed on her shoulders, causing her posture to slump a little bit. She knew there will be consequences, there were always were. In her early life, there were plenty of lessons about that, and it hit a little too close to home.

But before any of them could elaborate on the thought they had, a voice spoke up in the earpiece, breaking the heavy silence that hung over them.