War Dog

Chapter 82

I sat up in the bed drinking sips of water, my stomach rumbling for actual food when Soap came through the door a casual smirk on his lips. 

"Mo Uilebheist. I'm surprised to see you're still in the hospital bed."

I tug at the IV in my hands. "I have minor internal injuries to my intestines. Doctor said typically only a couple of nights in the medbay. Ben over rode him and said minimum a week." I huff annoyed. I mimicked Bens voice badly, "She's a menace who refuses to look after herself. Keep her handcuffed to the bed if you have to."

Soap snorts out a laugh at my poor imitation and sits down on the bed, barely making a dent on the hard cot. "When are you allowed to eat again?" 

"In a couple of hours apparently. Dr. Andrew is going to start me off with soup of some description. Who even eats soup as a meal? It's basically just flavoured water. It's like a hot cordial."

"That would be a broth, not a soup. Soups are usually creamier."

"Oh great. I get a hot milkshake for dinner," I deadpan at Soap.

He chuckles, rubbing my leg soothingly. "Lass, better than being IV fed ain't it?"

"I guess," I give in like a petulant child. "Where's Ghost?" I ask, ears twitching as if I'm going to find him lurking in the non-existent shadows of the med tent.

"De-briefing with Price. There were some complications that came up. It's a good thing we had your brother with us."

"More hybrids on the loose?" I ask sinking back against the bed, concern growing deep within my stomach. "Even if they never manage to figure out how to get them from being feral, just in their feral state they are such a nuisance."

"They've also been playing around with a lot of different genus species. Ghost had to face off against a rhinoceros hybrid. He said it was a tough bastard to take down. Even with the sniper, he said a lot of them required multiple hits before going down."

I tap my fingers against the bedsheets deep in thought. "Sounds like to me they're adding too much animal DNA into the mix. They're going animal heavy. What if they're doing that intentionally? Enraged animals are typically harder to take down because of the adrenaline. You see it in hunts all the time."

"What are you saying, Uilebheist?"

"Maybe they don't care as much about having human functioning hybrids. What if in the pursuit of finding their end goal, they're happy to let us deal with their mistakes while making it harder for us. We were killing them anyway... this way we're also on the backfoot about it."

"You're smarter than you look, you know." I roll my eyes as my brother comes through the tent towards me. "Maybe what they all say about you isn't true."

"Of course it's not. Haven't you learned by now little brother, don't listen to gossip from soldiers. They're worse than teenage girls after prom night."

"What have been who been saying?' Soap asks, brows tightening.

"Don't listen to him, Soap. He's trying to rile me up."

"Everyone's been saying it. She's just Ghosts little pet. A dumb beast." The sly wicked smirk lets me know that while I may have been his intended target, he's more than happy to rile Soap up instead. I see Soaps hands clench and considering his own biases he had to get over the sight warms the cockles of my heart. I reach out, placing a gentle hand on one of his fists. "Soap. He's being a dick, don't listen to him."

The eyes that greet me are cold and distant. Angry. I don't think I'd ever seen the ever jovial Scotsman genuinely angry before. "You are not a dumb beast," the low growl catches me by surprise.