I Feel It In My Bones (Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader)

Keep it Tactical: Part Two

'There's a second truck. The other driver took a different route.'

There was a beat of silence.

Footsteps sounded against the ruined road as Soap and Price jumped out of the truck, heading towards you. Price was leaning his head, speaking hurriedly into his comms, no doubt updating Laswell.

'Where the fuck is it?' Ghost growled, his eyes boring into the hapless driver. Your lieutenant reached down, pressing the barrel of the gun into the side of the driver's head. A bead of sweat trickled down the man's brow, his attempts to squirm away thwarted by the tight restraints that bound his hands. Ghost only pushed the barrel harder into the man's temple.

A taunt.

A threat.

A promise.

'Où exactement se trouve l'autre camion?' / ' Where exactly is the other truck?' You pressed.

'Je ne sais pas!' / 'I don't know!'

Your patience was wearing thin. The situation had taken a dire turn, and your temper was slowly simmering to a boil as the driver refused to talk. The likelihood of the terrorists receiving the equipment had gone from no chance to almost definitely. 'Putain, dis-moi au moins quelque chose que tu sais. Quelle est ta destination?' / 'Fuck, tell me something you do know. Where is your destination?'

'Je ne sais pas!' / 'I don't know!' he wailed again.

You were tempted to take out your own gun. Above the concealment of your balaclava, the mask of composure you typically wore had vanished, replaced by a raw intensity that burned brightly in your eyes. They said everything that your mouth wouldn't.

Ghost's gaze shifted between those terrifying eyes of yours and the side of the driver's head. Those skeleton hands held the gun firm.

You sucked in a deep breath.

'Alors, qu'est-ce que tu faisais? Travailler avec des terroristes pour t'amuser? Conduire un camion d'équipement de laboratoire pour passer un bon moment?' / 'So, what were you doing? Working with terrorists for fun? Driving with a truck of laboratory equipment for a good time?' Your voice, laced with venom, sliced through the silence like a knife.

The man's resolve crumbled. His shoulders shook as tears mingled with the sweat that beaded on his cheeks. 'Tu-moi simplement, ce sera plus doux que ce qu'ils me feront.' / 'Just kill me; it will be nicer than what they will do to me.'

You gritted your teeth.

Still squatting, you twisted your body to look at Price. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, and his mouth was pulled into a taut line. 'He's working for somebody and he's scared of them, but I don't think I'm going to get anything else out of him.' You flicked your eyes back to the driver. 'He's pathetic.'

Ghost looked at Price as well, a silent question in his eyes.

Price shook his head subtly. At that, Ghost lowered his gun and stepped away from the quivering man. Soap and Gaz remained quiet, standing a few feet away, more serious than you had ever seen.

Too many scenarios hung unspoken in the air. None of them had a good outcome.

With all eyes on your captain, none of you saw it coming.

You felt the splatter of warm liquid on the side of your face before you heard the sound of a bullet slicing the tense air.

'Down!'

Chaos erupted.

Before you could react, a sudden force was pulling you to the ground. Except you had been right on the edge of the grass verge, and rather than landing flat on the road, your feet slipped out from beneath your body.