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HOT WATER cascades down her grimy skin, leaving the water murky as it rolls down the drain. A shower has never felt this good for Ellie. Her muscles are aching, cuts burning from the mission in Al-Mazrah.
She's back at Shadow Company HQ - but briefly. Of course, Ghost was right. She now belongs to TF-141 and is under the orders of Captain John Price. She has not spoken to him yet or met him, but apparently, that is all about to change. Ellie was ordered by Shepherd upon her return to pack up her things and get on a flight to Las Almas. Hassan was taken there by the cartel. They're working together and made the situation much more messy.
Phillip did not take the news lightly. He didn't speak to her once she got back. So, once the shower is done she is going straight to his office and giving him a chewing out like he's never had before. Once the water starts to grow cold, she shuts it off and steps out. The mirror is foggy and she's thankful.
The last thing she wants is to see her reflection. Her burned skin. Bullet holes. Bags under her bloodshot eyes. Ellie's lost a lot of sleep over them recovering the American missile in Al-Mazrah. Shepherd was pissed. When Ellie met with Laswell on her flight back, she was telling her about how angry he was. She felt bad for Laswell at that moment. Kate was never one to show any strong emotion, but Ellison knew was was beside herself that Iran got their hands on weapons of that caliber.
Ellie puts her hair up into a ponytail and lines her ear with her earrings. She doesn't wear them a lot anymore and figures she should just let the holes grow up. For some reason, she can't bring herself to fully do it.
She dresses in a shirt that covers her large scar, donning cargo pants and boots before making her way to Phillip's office. Thankfully, he is already in there.
She knocks and he doesn't look up. "Got a second?" she asks after a moment of silence.
"Make it quick, Miller."
She bites her lip and shuts the door behind her. Plopping down in the seat, she waits for him to look up from his paperwork. He doesn't. So, she leans back in the chair and stretches out her legs, propping up her boots on the wooden desk.
That gets him.
His eyes are narrow as he finally looks at her. "What do you think you're doing?"
"S'pose I'm gonna have to start acting out to get Daddy to pay attention to me," she answers flatly, making him laugh, but there's anger hidden behind it.
"Is that so?" He caps the pen he was holding and leans back in his chair. "Didn't take you for a toddler."
