The Hunters

Chapter Three

The others slowly approached, observing us closely with nearly emotionless expressions. I caught the twitch of a smile on Soap's lips, exchanging a look with Price while Ghost remained stern and silent. König remained in the rear, observing us slowly before I felt both his and Ghost's attention focus on me. Their masks made it difficult for me to get a read on their reactions, whereas the others were obviously curious about me. Intimidated.

Larsen cleared her throat, addressing the crowd, "We are familiar with each of you, so save us the introductions. We'll stick with code names." Some of the men nodded, while others remained silent and curious. "I'm Genie, this is Fly," Andersen, "this is Skater," Haugen, "and Storm."

Greetings were muttered, and Larsen huffed, deciding, "We're done here." I smirked as she took the lead, bringing us to the remaining building: our barracks. The interior consisted of a line of cots on each side of the long building and a wooden fireplace in the center. A changing area built of curtains filled one corner of the room, lockers lining the other.

Andersen shut the door when Gaz followed, giggling when he huffed in protest. Smiling at each other behind our masks, we determined that this was going to be fun. Larsen took charge of our sleeping arrangements, ordering, "We'll move the extra beds to that corner and shut the curtains. On this side, we'll build our fort."

"Do we put a sign up saying no boys allowed?" Haugen teased, and we giggled as we separated to make the arrangements. We liked to sleep bundled up together beneath a blanket tent; while it wasn't regulation, we'd learned that we felt safest and warmest as a unit at all times. We'd been exposed to numerous dangerous places, where being a woman made us a target, especially when alone.

The curtains were drawn first as a crowd gathered outside of our barracks. Once everything was set up, we began to remove our gear, placing everything in an organized pattern on the spare beds we'd stacked. Removing my hat, I fluffed my hair back to life, momentarily removing my overcoat after starting the fire. "Let's get dinner next," Andersen suggested, rubbing her narrow stomach. "Grab it and eat in here."

"I second that," I agreed with a grin, sitting on the floor as I warmed my now-exposed hands by the fire. "Dang, this is nice."

Knocking at the door startled us, and Larsen groaned, verifying that our masks were still on before approaching. "Who is it?" she demanded, listening as men argued and chuckled on the other end.

"Private Johnson," a man called in response. "I'm filing a complaint with the Lieutenant General. Just wanted to give you the heads-up." Larsen squeezed her eyes shut, likely praying for patience, before throwing the door open. The man's smug face looked down on her, his hair neatly trimmed and his face reddened by the cold. Peering into the room as he stepped within the threshold to push Larsen backward, he added, "Blanket fort isn't exactly allowed, now is it? I'll add it to my complaint."

"What's your first complaint?" she demanded, stepping to block his path as she met his humored gaze with her furious alternative.

"Letting a man stay in your barracks. We don't allow co-ed arrangements unless given permission," he answered with a wide grin. "Based on the fort, I'm going to say you didn't get permission for that either."

Larsen released a sarcastic laugh, turning to me as she stated, "Storm, fuck him up."

I grinned and jumped to my feet, approaching the man as his confidence quickly faltered. Without my coat, my feminine curvature was visible, and my long, braided hair added to the appearance. "You think I'm a man?" I taunted him as I looked down at his face; he was only two inches shorter than me, but the difference made him panic. "I'm not sure what I'm looking at. Hunter Troop, what is this thing?"

My fellow companions shouted insults, and I sneered, my gaze hot as the blood drained from his face. "This is your only warning," I told him, shifting impossibly forward to press my chest against his. "Get to steppin', or I'll make you."

"Y-you can't threaten me!" he shouted, and I tilted my head, preparing for my next move. "Maybe you are a woman, but that fort isn't–" I grasped onto his collar, twisting the fabric into a knot while my other hand grasped firmly onto his crotch. Johnson yelped in agony, and I lifted him off of the ground, adjusting his body in the air before slamming him downward. His body crumbled on the concrete as he wheezed for breath, his fists grasping onto his crotch in agony.

I looked upward when I heard laughter, seeing Aksel and Gaz bent over as they roared with humor. The other members of the task forces had left; likely bored by the crowd. "Did you see that?" voices exclaimed while the two men howled and cried.

I huffed and faced the crowd, asking, "Anyone else want to comment on my gender? Or our blanket fort?" I observed the pale faces as they agreed not to complain, muted in their shock. Smirking, I reentered the barracks, slamming the door shut behind me.