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anhwrites · 2 years ago

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Chapter 2. Ivan Orlov

The sun filters through the white curtains and wakes her early the next morning, she silently notes how beautiful the dewy morn is before she stretches and gets up. She goes through the the motions of getting herself ready quickly before making her way to the dining room for breakfast. She joins The Captain and Gaz at the table they'd already been sitting at. They slide a plate of food and an earpiece towards her silently. The three of them speaking quietly to the other two who had ordered room service, getting the plan for that night organized.

"Ana, what's your plan? We know to keep a look out for you, but what will you be doing?" The Captain asks. She stares at him, momentarily stunned by the fact he referred to her as the name she'd been assigned for the mission. She hated the way it sounded coming from him. They hold eye contact for a few seconds too long before she looks back down at her almost-empty plate.

She pushes the rest of her eggs around her plate lazily. Persing her lips in thought for a moment before speaking. "It's the same as always. Walk in, look lonely at the bar, let him buy me a drink, sit there while he talks about himself, look pretty, let him take me wherever he wants, get what I need, kill them, leave before someone sees. Done."

"And if that doesn't go as planned?" Gaz asks gently. She smiles softly down at her place but it's hollow. She had hoped there would be at least one man here that didn't doubt her, but she guessed that wouldnt be happening

"Thank you, but I'm not really in the mood to be talked down to. I'll see you gentlemen later." She lays her napkin on her plate, and pushes back from the table. Her fingers grasp at the ear piece, pulling out and laying it silently on the table as she grabs her wallet and leaves. Normally, she would have some sort of phone with her but decided against it this time. There wasn't a need, she had no one to contact besides Kate anyways.

Getting back to her hotel room she starts getting ready. She lays out the building floorplans and other pieces of information she assumed she'd need.

Twisting around to turn on the shower before crouching down to the floor, unzipping her bag and pulling out the wig and other necessary makeup she'll need while she waits for the water to warm up. When she's done she strips of the clothes she has on and steps into the steaming water. She shaves; exfoliates, and moisturizes, humming a tune of a song she'd heard once in passing. Afterward she sprays herself lightly with an Arabian perfume. She then pulls on an emerald green satin gown, the thin straps twisting and she has to spend a few extra moments righting them. The strings cross over the open back of the dress elegantly, hugging her body in the right ways. Despite what she did, she loved part of her job. She loved dressing up and feeling pretty, granted, most of the time her outfits had to be trashed due to blood stains, she still loved it though.

She finishes her hair and makeup, settling for a high curled ponytail, the bangs of the platinum wig are also curled and styled to the side, it would hide half of her face, just how she liked. Her hair held together with her thin black throwing knives. They were her favorite ones to use after-all. She then slid on the matching elbow length gloves she'd been given. Elegant, but not too much. When she was finished she placed the small caps she'd made on her upper canines. When she inevitably bit him; the capsule will break and the liquid will seep into the puncture wounds, paralyzing him almost instantly, killing his heart slowly. When they did the autopsy it would only look like a heart attack. That is, if she could refrain from stabbing him first.

He's low on the list, admittedly. A stupid businessman who thought he could get away with things just because he ran the Bratva's coffee errands. To translate, he was at the bottom of the food chain. Scraps. As would the next few men. But she needed information and these were the poor fools that had it.

She exits her room quickly, the hall silent as she waits for the door to lock. With her wallet in hand, she takes the elevator to meet them in the lobby, finding that they're already there waiting for her. Trying to pretend that she doesn't notice them staring, instead choosing to admire the art hung up and displayed around the space.

She holds her wallet out to Ghost when she approaches him. His mask on as always, and the warpaint on his skin makes his blue eyes stand out, he eyes her for a moment before grasping it. His large gloved hand covers her own for a moment. Definitely ignoring how large and warm his hand was compared to hers, she turns to the others and allows them to lead her outside.

They walk out to the limousine together. Gaz opens the door for her and she touches his arm gently in thanks, climbing in and getting situated. The men climb in through the other available doors, their gear already laid out on the seats for them to put on. She can't stop the half-smile at the sight. A task-force of fully grown men gearing up in a limo was something that made her wish she had a camera so she could take a picture of it.

Shepherd wastes no time beginning. "Here is your identity for tonight. You are the niece of Thomas Arnold, stepping in for him tonight as he is currently on business, he's southern, from Louisiana. You have your invitation, right?"

"Yes." She answers sharply, refraining from lashing out. "And where is he really?" Grasping the papers from him.

"Just waking up on an island in Bali." She nods, inspecting the papers she's given. Twenty minutes later they pull up to the party. It's a large business building, covered in glass. The door slides open, loud shouting and city noises greet her as she inhales deeply. When she moves to get out a gloved hand reaches out, the leather cool against her bare upper arm as it stops her.

"Take one of these, lass." She blinks at the pet-name, refusing to acknowledge the presence in her stomach due to it. Her eyes glance from him to the small gadget in his hand, an earpiece. She the piece gently from him, curling it into her palm. She left the other one they'd given her at the hotel and a surge of gratitude fills her as she rolls it around gently in her palm.

Sliding out of the limo, she doesn't look back as the cameras begin to flash. Quickly understanding that she underestimated the severity of the party but she ignores them, no one would know who she was, they wouldn't be able to recognize her. Her hair was white now but tomorrow it will be different. She'd technically take on a new name and move onto the next person on her list. She walked into the building calmly. Chattering, glass clinking and laughter overstimulating her and she locates a bathroom quickly, finding an empty stall. She slips the earpiece in on the side that her bangs covered, adjusting it so it was just right, finding that the men were already talking.

"I bet you a score she flushes the ear piece down the pissa." The Captain jokes. She rolls her eyes, readjusting the garters under her dress before letting it fall back into its place.

"Well with the way you've been treating her Cap, I wouldn't be surprised." Gaz grumbles. She cant help her heart dropping to her stomach.

"She holds a mean grudge too, hate to see any of you added to her list all because you were a dick." Ghost adds quietly, she feels her head jerk back slightly. His assumptions were spot on and it made her stomach sink with unease.

"I thought she only added pedo's to her list?" Gaz's confusion is clear, even through a small device. Ghosts tsks, choosing not to reply. The bathroom was empty so she took that moment to say something.

"The translation of that would be, Fuck around and find out, Sergeant Garrick." She states simply. If they were smart, they'd keep to themselves. How Ghost knew so much about her, she didn't know and it made her uncomfortable. She inhales deeply and exhales the same. "Let's get this over with, gentlemen." Yanking open the bathroom door and strolling back into the busy party.

Scanning the large space, she spots her target almost immediately. Ivan Orlov stands to the far right of the bar, one arm leaning comfortably against it as he sips from a short glass. A brown drink could be many things, but it was most likely Scotch.

He's average looking, or maybe she looked at him with bias. With his dark black hair slicked back; he stands at six feet tall, surrounded by other men, she notes. His dark black suit looks good against his pale skin. Dark honey eyes scan the room slowly as he sips.

Making eye contact with him once, she then spots an empty seat at the bar and strides over to it, her posture perfect. Her skin prickles as she feels eyes all over on her. Taking her seat, she leans forward and orders her drink politely, giving the bartender her sweetest smile. The men talk in code in her ear and she ignores them as the bartender hands her the glass with a wink, she smiles into her drink as she sips it through the little straw.

"In position, boys." Soaps voice filters through the ear piece. Then she feels it, his presence.

"Why good evening, gorgeous. I don't believe I have had the pleasure to meet you." The thick Russian accent greeting her. She pretends to jump in her seat, holding her hand up to her chest and laughs.

"My apologies sir! You scared me!" She puts on a southern accent easily, Soaps soft grunt greets her and her smile becomes a bit more genuine. "Louisa Arnold! Stepping in for uncle Thomas."

"Yes! I love Thomas! Do tell him I wish him well." He shakes her hand, turning it in his palm and kissing the back of it softly, he looks at her through her lashes and she had to admit he was very charming. She could see why so many women fell for his tricks. "Let me buy your next drink darling," She shivers, pet names making her feel ill coming from men like him. "What'll you have?" He places a large, calloused hand on her shoulder, covering it almost completely. It was sweaty and she fights the urge to jerk her shoulder away.

She lets out a soft sigh, pouting her lips just a little. "Well right now it's a cocktail, I wanted whiskey but they're not serving it! Can you believe it?" She asks, leaning her body towards him, he glances once down at her chest before back to her eyes, his grin widening.

"Ah whiskey, my kind of girl." Ghost rumbles. She brings her drink to her lips to stop herself from blushing, finishing it with a few sips.

"Why, I can not! I can fix you up though." She giggles and embarrassingly enough it's only for one of the men who spoke. "Do you have a type of whiskey in mind darling? We can go up to my office, and have a quick drink if you'd like." A faint 'for fucks sake' channels through the earpiece. She'd have to thank them for the commentary later.

"Have any Scotch?" She asks with faux-bashfulness, fiddling with her now empty cocktail glass. She already knew the answer, but she waits for one anyway. She doesn't miss Soaps soft grunt in her ear or the Captains. Her smile spreads to a grin as Orlov holds out his hand in invitation, bringing her to her feet. She follows him out of the room quietly and to the elevator.

"We have no eyes on you in there, keep talking so we know you're okay." Soaps grunts. She lightly rolls her eyes, huffing quietly.

"So Mr.Orlov," She starts, twisting her body to face him. "Do you have any family?" She asks as he jabs the button calling for the elevator.

"God no," He laughs, throwing a dismissive wave her way. "I had a wife but we divorced for reasons. She always assumed I was unfaithful to her, always so bitter about the younger women who wanted my attention." She smiles innocently as her gut starts to sink at the same time. "I know you can probably understand, darling. I bet old hags are on you all the time because of how young you look. Why, you don't look a day older than eighteen." He's grinning at her like she's his dinner and her neck hair stands. She wanted to cringe, to sink one of her knives into his eye and leave him here. Instead she peers up at him through her eyelashes and giggles.

"Hmm I do get it a lot." Theres a small whine to her voice as she pouts at him. "But it's a good thing I'm legal." She's being coy once again, and she was careful not to slip up about her age.

"I don't have to fire the bartender for serving someone underage, do I?" His arm lays across her shoulders as they face the elevator doors.

"A girl never drinks and tells." He laughs loudly; throwing his head back, she watches his adam's apple dip in result. Shoving the urge to punch it away. The elevator dings as it comes to a stop, the doors slowly sliding open and showing her a row of conference rooms and offices, the layout open.

"Welcome to my office, darling. Let's get you that whiskey you wanted." He guides her to the last office, not missing the fact that he opened a door to an office marked for a Mr. Miller instead of his own name. It didn't matter to her. But she enjoyed watching make their decisions moments before death. It was like a movie.

She takes the opportunity to walk around the office, getting acquainted with the space, she could feel his eyes on her as she moves. She could feel many eyes on her, every movement of hers was being studied and she smiles faintly at the thought.

"God its like an intro to a shitty porno. Im meant to be stopping terrorists, what the fuck am I doing here?" She hears the Captain mutter.

"You would know, wouldn't you." She murmurs back. There's a cackle, then faint choking noises, then scuffling around on the other end, then silence.

"Here you go." Ivan speaks from behind her, he grasps her arm and she turns to meet him, she accepts the glass with a sweet smile.

"Heads up, he put something in the drink." Ghost breathlessly states. She glances down at the glass then up at him, keeping a pleasant look on her face. Tipping it back, she lets the alcohol brush her lips, not letting any of it get inside of her mouth. She pretends to swallow and sets it down on his desk. "We've got him locked if you need it." Tapping her mouth with the napkin he gave her she makes sure not to lick her lips.

"Come here, darling." He practically purrs, it makes her feel ill but she slips towards him anyways, falling sideways onto his lap as if she were drunk. He grasps her chin, forcing eye contact and kisses her hard. He forces his tongue in her mouth and she takes the opportunity to bite him as hard as she can. Piercing his skin; he yelps, shoving her off of him. She licks her teeth slowly; the caps and poison long gone, traces of copper lace into her taste buds and she feels herself grin.

"I'm sorry, sir." The insincerity in her voice makes him snarl, his face burning red. His body jerks as he attempts to get out of the chair, slowly comprehending his inability to do so. "Did you know that Tetrodotoxin interferes with the transmission of signals from your nerves to muscles and causes an increasing paralysis of the muscles in the body? Tetrodotoxin poisoning can be fatal if doused with enough." She tsks, grinning ear to ear. "Piercing it into your bloodstream, causes it to work that much faster." She gets up off of the floor, moving to the desk. She hops up to take a seat, crossing her legs for comfortability. The slit on her dress rides up and she watches his eyes watch the movement. "I can cure you but you have to answer a few questions first."

"Fuck you, stupid bitch." He growls, she throws her head back and its her turn to cackle, inhaling deeply. She pulls one of the knives that held her hair up and twists it in her hold, she watches hum he watch as the lights in the office gleam off the sharp blade. His eyes squint, betraying the tick she watched jump in his neck.

"I bet you'd like that you sick fucking freak." She growls back. "You'd better start talking, darling." She drawles as she kicks his chair, it spinning to face her better. She lifts her foot up, setting it on the arm rest as she glides the blade lightly across his legs, his eyes start to widen as the tip of the blade crosses his groin. "It's simple, tell me who paid you to smuggle those missiles into Russian territory, tell me where you're keeping the girls, and I will give you the cure."

"I'm bratva, you will never get me to talk." He grunts, she does nothing but raise her eyebrows at him.

"I've made men far larger than you fall, I am not afraid to leave you here to die." He grunts once more, trying to spit at her. It just dribbles down his chin instead. "Can you feel it? The poison coursing through you? Shutting down your organs? I think you can." Her knife sinks slowly into the meat of his thigh and he groans deeply; his head slacking forward - eyes rolling back and she snorts, some bratva. She shoves his head back, slapping him as hard as she can. His eyes snap open, dazed for a moment before his eyes turn to glare angrily at her. If looks could kill. She grips his chin, forcing him to look at her. "You better start talking or you'll have to deal with my colleagues and that's a group of men you really don't want to encounter." She lets him go and watches his head fall forward before she slaps him once more, the force of it bringing blood to his lips. They quiver as his tongue weakly darts out to lick at it.

"The men who gave us the missiles were middle eastern. I can't tell you who they were or where they're from, because I don't know. Just that the language they spoke sounded like they were from around there." He whispers, eyes downcasting in shame. She stares at him dumbfounded before scoffing at him, she slips off the desk and paces towards the window and then back to him slowly. She wanted go stab him for being so fucking dumb.

"The bratva must be real desperate if they're letting filthy vermin like you climb the ranks." She slaps him again just for being unhelpful. It stings her palm yet she welcomes the pain. "You've got one more question to answer though, you're not free yet."

"I don't know what girls you're talking abo-" He's cut off by her slapping him again. The right side of his face is an angry red, and his eyes finally gloss over with tears. Her hand stings but she doesn't care, not when she's so close to getting what she wants.

She grips the back of his head, forcing him to stare her in the eyes. "Now, Mr.Orlov, I'm being nice to you because we have an audience down stairs, normally I'd cut off your pinky for lying to me. Tell me the truth before I cut your dick off instead and make you watch as I feed it through the paper shredder. Got it?" She pats the red mark on his cheek and he winces, a bubbly hiss escaping him.

"They're kept in a worn down warehouse off of Main, the Bratva told me they could get me out of my debt if I helped." He confesses a few minutes later in a whisper, his breath has started to wheeze out of him. The poison was closing in on his lungs and she could hear it, His desperate eyes bore into hers quietly pleading with her, she sneers.

"You're a fucking idiot for believing that." Men were so agonizingly stupid. "Unfortunately the poison injected into your bloodstream is incurable, even if it was I would've rather plucked my own nails off with a rusty pair of pliers than given it to you. гнить в аду, уродливый." She spits as she whispers it to him, she sits back and watches him take his last breaths. She watches as the different emotions cross his face panic. Anger, grief and desperation before finally his head hangs low and his body stills from its light twitching. She grabs the drink he gave her, leans his head back and pours the contents down his throat. Then wipes the glass with his suit jacket, placing it carefully back in its place.

"Didn't know you knew Russian, kid." Shepherd says through her ear piece. She can't stop herself from cringing slightly in response. Striding towards the door she closes it quietly on her way out.

"Theres a reason for that, General." She replies. "He's gone." She mutters as she slips her heels off of her feet and starts to walk barefoot down the back stairwell, taking the back exit.

"Gaz turn the security cameras back on in five." The Captain grumbles as she shoves open the heavy metal door, a black van right in front. The back doors open at the same time and she's greeted by Ghost and Soap. Grasping Soaps hand she allowed herself to be hauled into the van.

"Good job kid. The FBI have been tipped off and are now on their way to the abandoned factory now. We'll give you an update on the women and girls when we can. Eagle out." She sighs with relief at the news, slipping the ear piece out. She lets the bloody knife she was holding be taken out of her hand and she watches as Ghost silently cleans it. Its a little therapeutic, his movements are sure and he gets every piece of it wiped clean.

She inspects herself for blood and finds that she's unexpectedly clean. Just some blood on her gloves which she had knew about. She slowly takes the gloves off, extra careful of the drying blood, she lets them be taken from her.

"How's the hand, lass?" Soap asks quietly at her right, she gives it a once over. A little red and sore but nothing she couldn't handle.

"It'll be fine by tomorrow." She shrugs, the last thing she needed was one of them assuming she wouldn't be able to do her job.

The Captain grunts, sitting back. "You'd better hope its fine by then, considering its your job" He huffs. She huffs back, officially over it. She knew they were acting like a bunch of teenagers, but she couldn't help it.

"Captain, I'll be honest with you. I am a high on bloodlust at the moment, so unless you want to see the Pearly Gates tonight, I suggest you shut the fuck up." Her unblinking gaze watches as his smirk falls to a scowl. "I am not fond of you either, grow up." The van comes to a stop and she's once again the first one out, walking in through the private door of the hotel. When she walks in she takes a moment to slip her heels off and look for the back stairwell. She spots it quickly and strides over to the door; as her hand reaches for the handle, a larger one comes into view, grasping her lower arm. She jumps in her place, alarmed that she didn't see or hear them come up. She turns to make eye contact with Ghost. He lets go quickly, holding his hands up for a moment before they both relax.

He then pulls something out of his front pocket holding it out to her, it takes her a moment before she realizes its her wallet. Giving him a small smile as she grabs it from him and thanks him. "You're going to walk up sixty flights of stairs?" He asks, nodding at the door. There's no hint of disbelief as he tilts his head to the side our of curiosity.

"Maybe just a few flights, i'll take the elevator from there. There's blood on my gloves and shoes. I'd be traveling with a group of large, scary men, one of which who wears a skull mask. I'd hate to send the other guests into an unnecessary panic." Her tone is light, not something even she was used to.

"I'll come with you, just to make sure you make it safely." He adds the second part quickly, she cant help but snort at it. But she also couldn't deny the small part of her that relaxed, feeling relieved that she wouldn't have to be as aware of her surroundings. If there was one person more dangerous than her it was him, and she was grateful he wanted to walk with her. He opens the door and moves out of the way, letting her go first. She ducks her head as a thanks before hurrying past him, his steps silent behind hers. "I'm sorry for the Captain, by the way. I dont make it a habit to defend people often, I don't care enough to. Captains a good man he's just..."

"An ass?" She supples for him as they round their first set of stairs.

"Protective." She cant stop the scoff that escapes her, coming to a stop on the staircase. She turns around to face him. She recoils a little when she notices they're two stairs apart and the same height, before she remembers why she turned in the first place.

"Maybe, but it doesn't give him or anyone else for the matter the right to judge me. I'm not going to sit here for a month and do tricks to try and impress you." She glares at him, turning only when he motions for her to continue walking. She wouldn't apologize for her behavior, or her outbursts. They had their chances.

"I get it, trust me I do." She knew he did, he remained the only one who had yet to doubt her. "So what got you into the job?" He asks breathlessly a few moments later. Her tangent long forgotten. Her stomach dips with awareness as his deep voice echoes off the walls. She had expected him to be quieter, she wasn't prepared for questions.

"You read my file, didn't you?" She retorts; he tsks quietly in return, his head jerking in disapproval. The sound was beginning to be familiar with her, she wanted to hear it again.

"You and I both know your file is dangerously thin. I'm not here to hurt you."She chuckles.

"From now on; if you'd like to know something about me, you will have to offer that same piece of information about yourself. It's only fair, yes?" They're striding down the hallway now. Her bare feet make no noise and she has to take two steps at a time just to catch up with his one, it was almost exhausting.

"I suppose that's fair." He glances at her for the first time since the stairwell and slows his stride. "I initially joined the military after the attacks on the twin towers. Some things happened in between but, it led me to where I am now." They look at each as they reach the elevator and a silent understanding passes between them. He pushes the button calling for it, humming after a moment. She looks down at her feet to smile at the mundane act.

They get in the elevator and he presses the number to the top floor. "I ended up in the wrong people's hands at a young age. Things happened; and I found my way to the FBI, exchanged my skills for safety, revenge. That led me to where I am now." She replies with his words, staring unblinking as the elevator rises to their level, dinging before sliding open once again. He walks by her side silently until she slips her keycard into the door, it lights up green and unlocks for her.

She spins on her feet to face him; his eyes widen just a fraction and its the only sign she's given of his surprise. Her smile is a bit more genuine knowing the fact. "Thank you for walking me, Ghost." Her voice comes out as a whisper.

He nods once "Sleep well." His response was short but it was enough, she shuts the door and leans against it, letting out a long sigh. Her feet ached.

Pulling off the wig; she throws it in the direction of her bag and starts the shower, stripping off her clothes. She admires the dress once more, wishing she could have gotten a picture. She then removes her lenses before stepping into the steaming water.

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anhwrites · 2 years ago

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Chapter 1. The Viper

This story can also be found on Wattpad and AO3 under the names Anh__Writes

"Wheels up in thirty gentlemen! Let's get this done and over with." Shepherd shouts, the men quickly surround the table he stands at, silently waiting for him to start. All around them, men were running in and out of the large tent, packing things into the multiple aircraft's waiting outside.

"I hear we have a woman joining us on this mission." Captain Price breaks the silence first. His head tilts to its side as he stands to the Generals immediate left, he grabs ahold of the straps to his gear. She takes that opportunity to walk slowly towards them, staying hidden in the shadows that the corners of the tent created. The dry dirt under the men running by kicked up, created clouds of smoke as she stayed out of their way. Her eyes scan them each carefully, assessing their builds, features, and any noticeable markings. A few of them shifted their weight, glancing at each other before back at Shepherd, waiting for him to explain.

"What's wrong with women, captain?" Laswell asks through the computer screen, her tone light.

"Nothing, just that they aren't you." He replies smoothly, giving her a small smile and a quick nod. "But the last time we let a woman tag along, she-"

"She's called the Viper," Shepherd cuts him off. Utilizing that time to get a better angle, she walks around until she's behind Shepherd. Still in the shadows, she leans quietly against a wooden crate as she watches them. The helicopter whirs loudly outside of the tent as it starts up, twisting the air around it in every which way, nudging up the loose flaps of the tent, blowing loose dirt around in the process. "You don't earn a name like that for nothing. This mission will be a little different, though. The war hasn't started yet, and it wont unless we can successfully transfer her to each location so she can extract intel and assassinate the men she's been assigned to deal with. We need to make sure to have her back, get her in and out without being harmed." He orders, as he speaks he's opening files of the men, passing it around for them to read.

"No offense General, but, we're troops, not bodyguards, what do these men have to do with the war anyways?" Soap asks, his face pinched with confusion. He doesn't bother reading what was given to him. She notes that the only ones who truly reads through the information given to them are Ghost and the Captain. What they didn't know is that these men were linked to everything. Crime organizations, child trafficking rings, helping supply Russia with missiles. They were all connected to each other in some way.

"For the next few weeks I need you gentlemen to be anything this woman needs, hear me? You are troops and you are trained like them, yes. However, she's going to be awfully close to men who are incredibly dangerous. She's offered her services to us and you men are the best we've got to make sure she stays safe. There's a list of Russian mobsters who were there the night of the drop, who can tell us where they got the missiles from. While the UN tends to stay out of Underworld business, but its our business when we're stolen from and unknowingly supplying the enemy." His displeasure is clear, as much as she dislikes Shepherd. She was a little grateful that he was sticking up for her.

These men were smart, but she was smarter. They didn't trust her and she didn't trust them. She had already known she was on her own.

"I've 'eard of her." Ghosts whispers, its almost breathless. He closes the folder before tossing it back onto the table. She'd heard of him too, she'd be too stupid not to do her own research on them and out of the whole squad, she feared him the most. Anyone with a brain would. "Only in passing but, the stories about her are.... Fuckin' bloody." It's all he gives, his head turns to look Soap in the eye. "The men she's sent after never live to speak about it." Her lips perse, she had never heard anyone say that about her, it was a little entertaining. While she took pride in being silent it was nothing more than a little practice.

"They same the same about you L.T." Soap replies, nudging him with his elbow.

"Yes, I'm a soldier though. Civilians don't just wake up with skills like that." She nodded to herself with appreciation, he had a point. "How do we know we can trust 'er?" Ghosts attention turns back to Shepherd.

"You don't. Just like she doesn't know if she can trust you." Shepherd opens a folder, throwing pieces of paper onto the table, letting the men each take a piece. "Theres a list for her to go through. This list contains mob men who pose as businessmen mostly, men in media eye. They're almost exclusively hired to do the mobs dirty work, using the businesses as a front. One of them will know where the Russian's safe house is, once we get the location you will go in and retrieve the missiles, until then. Your job is to make sure she makes it to each location safely."

"Why isnt she here, now?" Price asks, adjusting his hold he had on his gear.

"The US government hired an assassin to do their dirty work? I've seen it all." Gaz mutters, amusement lacing his features. Her boots make little noise against the dirt as she finally pushes away from the crate and walks up beside Shepherd and into the light. The bangs if her chestnut wig hang low, covering most of her eyes. A pile of paper she's already read over lays in-front of her. It was almost comical how quick the room went silent as soon as they realized she was there with them, she could feel their eyes as they trained intently on her.

"The UN hired her, actually. She flew in with me and got briefed at the same time I did." Shepherd corrects, one of his eyebrows cocked. "Now, do you men understand or do I need to find a different squad to go through with this mission?" After a moment of silence, the General nods before grabbing his folder. "Here are your invitations for the few events you will attend, do not lose them, you know the men you're looking for. Try to get them alone, get them to confess to whatever you need, then do your thing." She nods mutely, refraining heavily from rolling her eyes. They always mansplained her job to her as if she didn't do it all the time. As if the government wouldn't still be looking for her if she hadn't turned herself in.

"You'll be staying on the top floor of the Hamptons Inn for tonight. You have four weeks to finish your list, find out who helped supply the Russians." Her fingers graze the photos before she picks the picture of the man she'd kill up with a gloved hand, the movements silent. His face had already been engraved into her brain, but it didn't hurt getting one more look.

"Stay safe, I expect updates." Kate tells her before they say their goodbyes and Shepherd closes the laptop quickly, walking in the direction she had came from. She folds the floor plans of the multiple buildings she'd be in up and shoves them into her pocket. She'd look over them later.

When they're boarding into a helicopter, Soap and Ghost speak quietly to each other as the other two get their gear together, settling into their seats quickly. She takes her seat and lets the wind whip her wig around her, the headset secured in place. A few of the men pass very bad jokes around without laughing and it serves for amusement the first half of the flight.

"A fancy hotel is a step up from cots, ain't that right L.T?" Soap jokes. "You wanna share a bed with me?" She hides her smile in her jacket as she watches Ghost rear back dramatically, staring at him like he'd grown two heads. He sends him a side-eyed glare before turning back in his seat. "Wasn't a no!"

"Hey," Captain Price nudges her a few minutes later, as she's staring out at the nature they passed. He leans closer and her body tenses as she slowly turns to look at him. His aftershave and cigar smell mix together wonderfully, filling her senses with a pleasant smell. Her unblinking stare meets his hard blue gaze. "So, why is it that you need an entire task force in order to complete this list if you're so good at what you do?" She stares at him quietly for a few moments. She lets her gaze travel, his pinched brows are barely visible under the fishing hat he's wearing. His lips are set in a frown, causing creases to dent his stubbled jaw and chin. After a moment, she turns her gaze to the skyline below. She understood being pissy because they are in a situation they've never had to be in, but he didn't need to take it out on her. She was contracted just like they were... Technically. She had asked for protection but she didn't mean from the military.

"You were given the opportunity to not take the mission, Captain. The question you should be asking yourself is why you didn't." His gaze is unrelenting when she looks back at him, his jaw grinds shortly with annoyance before he turns back to Gaz. She had assumed wrong when she thought that maybe he'd be nicer to her than the rest when she read his file. She hadn't expected a warm welcome but she couldn't deny the fact that it still hurt.

An hour of silence later, they land on the rooftop of the hotel. She unstraps her head gear quickly, wanting to get out of there as fast as possible. She sets it carefully back in its place before grabbing her bag from the floor and slinging it over her shoulder. Her knees bend as she jumps down from the helicopter and onto the concrete. The blades whipped around aggressively above them, forcing the leaves and twigs that laid on the rooftop to uplift. Gaz jumps down next to her steading himself hastily.

"Your room-card m'lady." He slides up next to her, holding out a yellow room card. She takes it from him, not saying anything, not even sparing him a glance as she walks over to take her suitcase and then off into the open door waiting for them.

•

"Damn brother, thats cold." Soap slaps a large, warm hand onto his shoulder. Gaz holds a hand to his chest with faux-ache, rubbing the spot. Ghost and Price come up on the other side, they all watch as she disappears as silently as she came.

"Just makes me want her more though, am I sick for that?" Gaz sighs. Soap pats his arm with a chuckle.

"No, but it makes you stupid." Ghost gruffs. The Captain does nothing but hum in agreement, each of them take their own bags from the spot they'd been stored in.

"How would you know?"

"I read her file. I'm starting to think i'm the only one who did. She's a killer, the least you could do is show her come respect." Ghost side eyes them before glancing once at the Captain and then following her inside.

"What are the odds he's saying that because he's also into her?" Gaz asks, hooking a thumb in Ghosts direction, before glancing at the other two.

"Slim to none, lad. Slim to none." Soap removes his hand from Gaz's shoulder, grinning at him before following after Ghost.

~•

That night, as she pads out of the steamed bathroom shaking her wet hair dry. A knock sounds from the door, halting her movements. There's mumbling outside of her door. Several men, shes either insanely fucked or its just the squad. With a quick peek through the eye-hole she confirms its her squad.

She shakes her head in reprimand. The squad. She opens the door slowly to peek out, their conversation ands immediately and she's assaulted with various scents of aftershave, cologne, and a slight hint of smoke. She makes eye contact with Soap, the one who'd knocked. But she takes note of the others from the side of her vision. Ghost leans against the far wall, half covered in shadows. Gaz stands in-between, his body already facing Soap. The Captain isn't with them and she's silently thankful for it.

He clears his throat, glancing once behind her before meeting her eyes with a kind look. "We're going down to the pub- bar," He sasses as Gaz nudges him with his elbow jokingly, something she noticed they did a lot. "If you care to join us." She glances down at what she's wearing, just the fuzzy white robe, before back up at them. She holds a finger up, signaling for them to give her a minute. Leaving the door cracked just a bit, she walks quickly towards her bag. They had been in t-shirts and jeans. So she dresses herself in a long sleeve black t-shirt and a black jean skirt. A pair of ripped tights underneath socks and boots. Her small throwing knives get tucked into the thigh garters she wore almost all the time.

Was it too much for the bar? Perhaps, but how often did women get attacked in public places? She could never be too careful. She grabbed her wallet before going back to the door. She never did things like this, didn't go out, she wouldn't risk her safety if she could help it. After s moments thought, she didn't have the time, either. She didn't even have the time to pick up hobbies, to find things she loved. Every decision she made was calculated, thought out.

It felt wrong in a way, was it alright for her to go to a bar knowing what she'd be doing the next day? For the next four weeks? She often repressed the guilty thoughts, they couldn't help her. But she also couldn't help the occasional thought that would slip through to whisper terrible things to her.

But this was Squad 141, these were the safest men to be with in the world. The Captain wasn't her biggest fan and she could admit that. But she also knew he would do his job when it came down to it and that she'd be okay. She finds herself hoping she didn't take too long; opening the door and once again met with their presence, they'd happily gone back to their conversation. She made sure she had her room key before closing the door behind her.

They walked silently for most of the way, and she quickly came to realize how little skill she had when it came to talking to others, making friends. She didn't have the time for that, but the sudden thought that these men have already had drinks together; several times before, made her realize just how alone she'd been. She wasn't angry no, she couldn't blame them for being mates. But she found herself wishing for a companion too, maybe just one.

She refrains from shaking her head in reprimand towards herself. Thoughts like this would get her killed. Having attachments to other people would get them killed and she couldn't risk that.

Captain Price stood by the elevator, he glanced around at the artless walls, almost making a point not to look at her. She could have snorted at the small act of immaturity, he may be an ass but he was a funny one.

When they approached the elevator, Gaz and Price go in first while Ghost and Soap stay behind, Ghost still had on a mask - or - neck-gaiter, more like. His hood covering the rest of him.

They wait for the next elevator with her politely. "So," Soap breaks the silence, his voice low, she looks at him, tilting her head back just a touch. She would never tell him, but she loved his voice. "If this is rude, feel free to punch me. But do you speak?" She feels her mask slip, brows twitching together in a mixture of confusion and amusement at his choice of words, she had never heard anyone say something like that. "See, ya haven't graced me with your voice once. It's no worries if not but we should know so we can come up with a way to communicate with you, especially during future escapades if ya know what I mean." He winks at her. After some thought, she nods, she couldn't be upset with him for being logical. The elevator door dings and it slides open. She steps in first and waits for the two of them to follow.

When they're inside she gets comfortable before meeting his kind gaze once more, she doesn't have to break her neck looking up at him like she had to with Ghost but he was still tall, her head still has to tilt backwards just a bit. He's handsome, which is expected, they all are, deep ocean blue eyes bore into hers. "I speak, Sergeant." She finally breaks the silence."I prefer to engage with others when I have to or if i'm approached." She adds quietly. "I don't care to waste my energy."

"Just call me Soap. So you weren't ignoring us, then?" His hands move to his pockets and she watches out of her peripheral, a small smirk begins to rest on his face as he stares intently at her. His gaze made her feel as if he was studying her and she hated it. She shifted her weight, finally turning her gaze to meet his fully.

"I didn't see a need to speak to you." She clarifies, giving him a small smile in hopes to make it come off better but she had a feeling it didn't. His smirk slipping only confirming her theory.

"So, how do men make it onto that list of yours?" He asks after a few moments of silence. From his tone she can tell its out of curiosity more than anything, but she wasnt stupid. Nothing she would say in turn would remain confidential. If needed, they'd use whatever they could against her.

The elevator door dings and she stalks out quietly, choosing not to reply to him. Shes constantly grateful that she was forced to spend most of her childhood perfecting different skills, skills she thought were useless at the time.

The guests in the bar are sparse, only a few sat around at different tables. She takes a seat at the right wing of the bar, in a spot where she can keep an eye on all entrances and exits. Ordering her favorite drink before turning to the tv, silently enjoying the episode of criminal minds playing on the flatscreen tv in silence.

They're about to deliver the profile the police when she feels a presence behind her, the ice from their drink clinks softly against the glass as they shuffle closer. "Hey sweet thing." An older gentleman slides up next to her, taking the empty seat. "Can I buy you another drink?" The first thing she notices is how part of the squad freezes, their conversation dies almost instantly at the nearby table. The second is that this man has had way too much to drink, and it's clear he's looking for a good time.

"Why?" Her head cocks as she turns it to meet his gaze. No amusement sits there and he bristles quickly in response, all traces of flirtation gone. Her lips tip up in amusement.

"Can't a man buy a pretty lady a drink?" He asks loudly, holding his hands up in mock-surrender and a few other people pause to watch their interaction. She brings her drink to her lips, taking a long sip, watching him as he watches her do it.

"What do you want from me?" She asks, pulling the straw away from her mouth. Her small smile hiding something deeper, something this gentleman was either too stupid or too drunk to see.

"Your time." Her eyes roll involuntarily at his words, she turns back from the tv not moving to stop him as he sits down next to her, ordering her another drink. She lets him talk about himself, humming along to his long, boring complaints. Hates his life, his work, his wife, looking to turn things around using the stock market. He's seen The Wolf of Wall-Street ! How hard could it be? In this time, she takes his appearance in. Mid-forties, receding hairline and a Tom Ford suite that looked well worn and loved. Her gaze stops once on a stain on his thigh, was that baby puke?

She could feel five pairs of eyes staring intently at her as she lets him talk for a few more minutes before downing a shot he paid for and turning to him. "You want my advice, Ron?" She asks, finally fed up with his whining.

"My name is Rex." She waives her hand at his reply, not caring for the correction.

"Go home to your wife and kids, and stop trying to pick up young women at bars you selfish sack of shit." He gapes at her, stuttering up excuses. Kicking her stool out from under her, she rises her arms above her, stretching before she relaxes again and stares down at him.

"Thanks for the drinks, Richard." She moves past him and towards the exit.

"Thats not my name!" His arms jerk up in annoyance as he stands up abruptly. He grabs her arm, twisting her so she'll face him again. At once the squad at the table stands and starts to close in. The man startles at their presence, letting her go almost instantly as he takes them in. Her arm jerks from his hold as she scoffs, rolling her eyes. "I just wanted to know how you knew I have kids. I never mentioned that, it seems to turn women off." She stares at him with disgust for a few seconds too long. She can feel all of their eyes boring into her, waiting to see what she'll do next. She honestly couldnt decide if she should slap the shit out of him or not.

"Theres a baby puke stain on your left thigh." Is all she gives before turning on her heel and leaving him behind. As she got into the elevator she spins her room key in her fingers slowly, examining it as she does so. Looking up as the doors start to close, she watches the squad walk into the lobby and towards the elevators, she makes no move to stop the elevator doors from closing.

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