Consequences || Simon Ghost Riley

Chapter Eight || Cigarettes & Vodka

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10:35 AM

Sky was not given a moment's reprieve upon her arrival back at base, as Price urgently summoned her for a detailed evaluation of all that occurred. Eagerly, she moved into his office, finding herself sitting on a chair that was sharply uncomfortable. A prevailing, silent tension in the room was almost palpable, further amplified by the haunting hum of the ceiling's fluorescent bulbs. Tired eyes met hers as Price sat behind his desk, a mountain of administrative documents present, speaking volumes about the weightiness of the situation at hand. The journey from Moscow was nothing short of a test of endurance, and Sky, still finding brief bursts of mission-building adrenaline, struggled to keep the flashbacks at bay. The atmosphere in the room was evocative of tacit acknowledgment of the rigorous demand their line of work required, evident as Price geared up to gather essential insights from the mission.

     "Report," Price communicated with assertiveness, his gaze intently surveying Sky. She drew in a deep breath, and with controlled calmness, she articulated her reply, "It was a success, sir." The pressure of his expectations was palpable, and the seriousness of the circumstance urged her to keep her report succinct and understandable.

     "Go on," Price affirmed with a nod, shifting towards his desk edge with a serious look etched on his face. This air of solemnity hinted at his readiness to tackle any impending hurdles that may crop up. The subdued lighting in the workspace threw shadows over the strewn maps and mission briefings, a stark reminder of the gravity of their task.

     Sky inhaled once more, her digits anxiously doodling invisible shapes on her forearm as she communicated, "I eliminated the target with ease, sir. Zero disruption, in and out." The look on Price's face eased into a contented grin, clearly valuing her prompt and precise execution.

     "And you decontaminated the scene? Any civilian casualties?" He asked, the tenor of his voice subtly changing to reflect the serious repercussions of their assignment. The overhead light set a stark disparity between the gloomy surroundings and the unwavering concentration in his eyes.

     "No civilians were affected; the target was the only person at the residence," Sky shared, as her hands instinctively sought comfort in the depths of her coat pockets.

     The aroma of old leather blended with the subtle notes of coffee filled the space. Acknowledging the comforting sensations, Price revealed a tiny, contented grin as the familiar sound of his beloved chair echoed when he leaned back. "Nice work, Sky. But let's not get complacent. Your job is to stay focused with a dedication to continue completing missions with the same level of diligence and skill. Is that understood?"

     Sky gave an affirmative nod, her eyes sparking with fresh resolve. The room was silent apart from the monotonous drone of the overhead fluorescent lights. "Yes, sir, understood."

     A fleeting pause permeated the air with a faint noise of life buzzing beyond the shut door. Immersed in the upcoming tasks, Price rummaged through his desk for relevant documents. With military-grade boots lightly tapping against the tiled floor, Sky quickly traversed the room. She sent a rearwards glance to Price before slipping out into the corridor and gently closing the door behind her, encasing the office in a serene quietude.

     She exhaled a sigh of relief, as if a heavy load had been taken off her shoulders. During the entire journey home, anxiety had incessantly nibbled at her gut, slowly depleting the adrenaline rush from the mission. But as that stress was lifted, it made room for a new emotion – remorse.

     The mission had indeed left a powerful imprint on her psyche, fostering a disquieting sensation of doubt. 'Did I make the correct decision by signing up with 141?' She pondered, quietly uttering a soft swear word under her breath.