Phoenix in the Light

Blood Sport

Writers Note: mmmmmmm, I love me a hunkering down in a safehouse trope. I can't wait to get the next chapters out to all of you, things are just gonna be *chefs kiss* anyway, a little bit of a filler chapter here. Expect more 'action' soon. Milena's island mission was my favorite in the game so I'm excited to write it.

Playlist: Spiders- System of a Down, Antarctica- $uicideboy$, Break Stuff- Limp Bizkit, I love the Darkness in You- The 69 Eyes, Birds- Katatonia, Edge of Darkness- Greta Van Fleet, Killing me Slowly- Bad Wolves, Gasoline- Halsey

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I kept silent. I stayed out of the view of the camera on the computer, knowing that even though I could see him on the TV he could not see me. There were ten thousand things I wanted to say to him, ten thousand ways I wanted to turn him into minced meat, but you can't assassinate someone who knows you're coming from them.

    I pulled out my phone, finding the number that I had yet to save in my phone, but I knew it would work, do they know I am alive?

    A few moments later, Captain Price pulled out his phone. Stepping away from the screen, he looked up at me like I had four heads before he put the puzzle pieces together. A quick shake of his head confirmed what I needed. If they didn't know I was alive, it meant two things: I was safe from them for now and that they would never see me coming.

    "Soap?" Graves' voice sang out, the happiest of smirks on his scarred face. I braced my fists on the table, the delicate veins in my arms popping out with the need to hit something. "You miss me?"

    A twitch in my shoulders had my eyes fluttering closed as memories of that day sped through my head like a turning projector. The helicopter crash that nearly killed me and Captain Price while we were retaking Alejandro's Military base in Mexico last year. The explosions of both my brain inside my head and the helicopter's fuel canisters going off, I could still feel it. I had been out for three days, three days that I still didn't recall and figured I probably never would. All I could remember was Ghost patting my face, the panic in his eyes when I finally came to, the fear.

    "Technically you did, didn't you?" Graves taunted Soap and saw the flash of red hit Soap's cheeks in embarrassment. Had he not confirmed the kill on Philip Graves that day? He and Rudy had gone after Philip while Ghost came to aid Price and I's helicopter crash. I knew that Soap had destroyed one of Philip's tanks, did Soap not confirm that Philip was indeed inside that tank?

    My eyes went to Captain Price who was drawing the same conclusion as I was inside his own head. I had never, ever, seen him so disturbingly angry before. The fury in his eyes bordered on something inhuman, it was radiating off him like air radiated off hot concrete. I had seen him fly off the handle several times, frustrated over things he couldn't change.

    But the silence that filled the void between Soap and Price was terrifying.

    "Laswell," Ghost purred, my focus was pulled from Price. I had the violent feeling Simon was going to say something that would either set the room on fire or set me on fire, "if you're tracking this, let's call an airstrike." Heat pooled on my stomach.

    Laswell patted the air but froze.

    "Ghost, that is not nice," Graves said, the words sounded like a master talking to a dog and the heat that was in my stomach shot directly to my head. The desire to scream at Graves to shut the fuck up before I pounded his head into dirt was almost impossible to resist, but I bit my tongue remembering that they thought I was still dead.

    Philip's tone was too much for Soap to handle though. He was thoroughly embarrassed by his mistake and on edge, but Graves talking to Ghost like he was a common goon had Johnny ready to set off atomic bombs in defense. "You slimy..." He growled as he rounded the table to stand in front of Lasswell's computer screen, bending down so that General Shepard and Philip Graves could see him perfectly, "what are you up to?"