#Forward Operating Base Farah

[the-californicationist]

That Fire is Repeated

AO3 Link

From an anonymous ask: fic of where instead of Price, it's reader who's been infected with sex pollen?👉👈please and thank u!

Deep in the southern jungles of Urzikstan, Captain Price is sent to help with your extraction. On your way out of the makeshift Konni laboratory, you accidentally step on a trap, and Price volunteers to save your life.

“I can’t hear her comms!” Simon yelled out over the noise of the helicopter, pointing to his headset and giving the thumbs down to Laswell.

She typed something into her datapad and showed it to him, yelling back,

“Dead zone! You’ll have to go in on foot.”

Price adjusted his vest and checked to make sure his gun was fully loaded,

“I’ll go. She’s my recruit, my responsibility.”

“Sure you’ll wanna be the big hero for her, too, huh?” Farah laughed from the cockpit, glancing over her shoulder as Price twisted his face, cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink from his shame. 

It was well-known that Price had a terribly strong crush on you. You had accepted his advances, but he was reluctant to take it further, realizing that fraternizing was frowned upon. So, you pined for each other from afar, and the whole base knew about it.

Laswell rolled her eyes at Farah’s comment, 

“Should we go back to basics? Captain: don’t subtract from the population,” her eyes narrowed, “Don’t add to the population…”

“Yeah, alright, Kate. Got it. Loud and clear,” Price waved her off, staring out the window and ignoring the obvious ribbing from his colleagues. 

“Go get Sparrow and let’s go the fuck home,” Laswell hollered at him, opening the door to the chopper and letting the air whoosh inside.

The wind stung his cheeks, and the tall grass blades spun and twirled like violent dancers as he made his way towards the old, dilapidated lab. You’d been sent to infiltrate secret Konni operations here, disguised as a chemist. Now that the Konni operatives had been dispatched, you secured the intel and were ready for extraction. Price was ready to have you back. These types of ops were so delicate. One wrong move would put you in danger. He was glad the worst of it was over. 

As quickly and as carefully as he could, Price made his way inside. It was a little odd that you weren’t outside waiting for the extraction, so his guard was up. In the main lab, he spotted you, standing with your bag and your weapon with your back towards him. 

“Little bird?” Price questioned under his breath, moving forward slowly, using the pet name he saved for when you two were alone. 

“Hey, Captain. Glad you made it,” you called out to him, your voice tinged with obvious sobbing and stress. 

“What is it, Spar? What’s happened?”

He made his way around the lab table and saw you. You were standing stock-still, staring down at your foot. Then, he knew what had made you cry. 

Jutting out of your pant leg, a giant syringe was stuck into your calf, empty.

Price leaned down to help you, removing the needle, panicking at the thought of losing you,

“Can you move?”

“When I do… Captain, it’s excruciating.”

“Fuck,” Price tried the comms. But, then he remembered it was a dead zone, and no one was coming to help him. He asked you, “Is it poison? How’d this happen?”

“They call it XLR8. It’s what they’ve been working on. A prototype. I was bending down to grab my bag and this was rigged to hit me. They knew I was a spy.”

“What does it do, this prototype?” You heard his voice quiver at the end of his question. 

You blushed, laughing a bit, 

“It incapacitates you, first. Removes your inhibitions, next. Then, it causes extreme vasodilation…”

“In the Queen’s bloody English, love. Please…”

“John,” you used his name, looking up into his eyes, “I may ask you to do things to me. Things that I might not usually ask for. And I want you to know that you don’t have to listen to me. I don’t want you to do anything… I don’t want to force you to do… things…”

“Birdie. Tell me what I need to know.”

“When the Konni scientists injected it into mice, they would breed… for hours. They wouldn’t eat, they wouldn’t sleep. One time, a researcher opened the door to the cage, and they didn’t escape. They only bred…” You looked at him in his eyes, making sure he heard you, “But, the mice who were alone in their cages and were given XLR8 got a high fever and died. Every last one of them”

“Are you… “ Price pointed down at your leg, “Do you mean to say that you’ll need someone to…”

You looked down at the ground, steeling yourself for the harsh reality of what was to come,

“When the drugs hit my system, the effects were immediate. Stage one should be almost over now.. You’ll… you’ll know it when you see stage two. But, listen to me, John. I couldn’t live with myself if I forced you to do something that you would regret. Please. I’m sure they’ll think of some other way to help me…”

“Little bird,” he caught your gaze and smiled softly at you, “I’m here for you. I’m not going to let anythin’ happen to you. I won’t lose you to this. I can’t… I care about you too much. I’m going to catch you, and we’re going to get out of here. Just fall forward into my arms, love. I know it hurts. We need to get you to the bloody medic as soon as we can.”

You nodded, and then you did as he commanded. Every movement felt like some sort of hell. You could hear yourself screaming, but it was muffled, your face buried in his chest. You were hanging, limp, against John’s body. You could feel every stinging step he took as it jostled your body. Suddenly, you heard the angry clipping of chopper blades. Then, you passed out. 

Sometime later, you awoke, still on the chopper, sitting in the jump seat way in the back. Well, that wasn’t quite accurate. Price was sitting in the jumpseat and you were… straddling his lap. 

You were humping him, shamelessly, right in front of Farah, Laswell, Gaz, Soap, and Ghost. The helicopter was full of soldiers, and here you were, uncontrollably rocking your hips against your captain. The others tried to avert their gazes, sitting at awkward angles, trying not to watch, but that somehow made it worse. 

You cried out as if you were in pain, and Price held you closer, soothing you with his deep, rumbling voice, speaking to you right in your ear,

“Shh, shh. It’s alright, little bird. I’ve got you. Almost home. Just a few more minutes.”

“John… fuck, I��m sorry. I’m so sorry… I need… oh, God.”

“I know what you need,” he kissed your neck, and he took his hand and shoved it down the front of your pants, giving you something to grind against. 

His fingers were strong, and the tips of them were thick, easily pressing through your folds for you, exciting your nerves just the way you liked.

You moaned loudly, unable to stop yourself. When you did, you saw Soap’s head peek around the back of his seat. Then, a gloved, skeletal hand yanked him back around to face the front. If you didn’t die from the XLR8, you’d die from embarrassment afterward, that was certain. 

“It’s okay, bird. It’s not your fault. They know that,” he tried to reassure you, but you hid your face in his neck anyway, unable to stop your wanton writhing, soaking his fingers until they slid against you unimpeded. 

You felt your hands reach for his belt, digging under his vest and all of his equipment straps. You wanted to spear your body onto his thick cock. You were sure that it would cure you. The fever made you feel too cold and too hot all at the same time. You shivered in his arms, but your brow was dotted with beads of sweat. 

He caught your wrist to stop you,

“Just a little while longer, love. Shh, shh, shh. I know…”

You sobbed into his shoulder, ashamed and needy, too weak to fight his grip. 

“Hey, look at me,” you obeyed, and he rubbed your cheek, “I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry.”

You shuddered, cresting over a brief, sharp orgasm, coming on him as quietly as you could, biting your cheek so you wouldn’t cry out. For a few seconds, you experienced some sort of relief, but then it was gone, and the overwhelming internal fire raged in your belly once more.

The chopper pitched, landing on the pad at your base, and everyone cleared out of the hull except for Laswell. She looked down at you, pity in her eyes, and then turned to him with concern,

“I’ll send a few supplies to your room. The medic wants to run some tests. How long is this supposed to last?”

John shrugged, petting the sweaty hair out of your face, tucking you in close to him in his arms,

“Not sure. Just trying to get her through it. Take her datapad. It’s got her notes from the lab.”

Laswell took it and stepped down from the chopper, jogging off to the med bay. 

“C’mon, love. Let me help you take that fever away, hm?”

You nodded, feeling dizzy and dehydrated, letting him carry you from the helicopter. It seemed like the tight coil in your belly was getting more and more tense by the moment. Your orgasm had been too weak, and it was almost like you hadn’t quite completed the event. You were just stuck in between coming and not coming, waiting for someone to put you out of your misery. What you thought had been relief was really just a prelude to the main event. It was torture. 

As you lay your head on his chest, you could smell his aftershave as it mixed with his skin, a comfortingly warm scent with woodsy spices and the faint hint of tobacco from his favorite cigars. You wanted more of it, so you turned your nose into him, running your hands across the belt of his pants, trying to pry your way in..

When he arrived in the barracks, he kicked open the door to a dark room. It smelled just like him. You realized then that you were in his quarters. He lay you on his bed and set to taking off your gear. Your boots and socks slid off, and he unclipped your vest. Then, you felt his fingers on your neck, carefully inspecting your wounds. 

“Birdie…” He shook his head, obviously regretful for what you were going through. 

You whimpered, looking up at him as you moved your hand down your own pants, rubbing yourself in front of him out of a desperate need, 

“John, I don’t know how to ask you this.”

“You don’t have to. Medic’s gonna check you out, and I’ll give you whatever you want, little bird. I promise.”

“I need you, now. I don’t… I can’t… mmmngh...”

“Captain?” A woman’s voice floated into the room from the doorway. Price cracked the door and when he saw it was the medic, he let her in. 

She knelt by the bed, and took your hand,

“Hey, Sparrow. I’m just going to check your vitals, okay?”

You nodded, trying not to stare down the dark opening of her lab coat. Her voice was so sweet, and her breasts looked full and soft. Her olive skin would probably feel so warm on your lips. Before you could stop yourself, you had your hand behind her head, kissing her neck, trying your best to unbutton her blouse.

“Easy! Easy does it,” John sat himself down behind you on the bed, positioning you between his legs, and held you back, keeping you from accosting the medic. 

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry. I… oh, my God…” You writhed, trying to fight the demonic need building inside of you.

“That’s okay,” she said, “They warned me. We’re going to get you some help… Let me take your temp… Goddamnit. She’s burning up. I’m going to give her a light sedative and something to try and cut her fever, but…”

She stopped speaking, looking up at the captain, trying to be delicate, 

“You probably need to… um… begin. The sooner the better. I’ll leave these with you,” she dropped two blue pressed pills into his hand, “Just in case you, uh, need a boost.”

Price recognized the sexual enhancement drugs and put them on his side table. He waited patiently for the medic to take a small vial of your blood. He thanked her, trying not to sound like he was in a rush (even though he was), and eventually she shut the door, leaving you two in each others’ care.

John stayed where he was, but he softened his grip, kissing your neck. He reached down and unbuttoned your pants, giving your hand room to move. You rubbed your folds faster, making tight little circles around your clit, struggling to come. 

“Nnngh… fuck. Fuck, I can’t do it. I’m so close, but…” You whined, gritting your teeth and struggling against the XLR8. It was making you woozy, and you couldn’t keep your strength up in order to get yourself over the edge. 

“Show me,” he whispered, staring down at your furious masturbation, watching your hand as it worked, “Show me how you like it, little bird. Teach me.”

Your heart raced, equal parts excited and embarrassed to show him something so personal and intimate, but you did as you were told, letting him see how your fingers worked your flesh. He sighed, and you felt his cock shift against the small of your back. 

He took over for you, sliding his hand down below yours, mimicking your movements, and getting very close to perfection. 

“That’s it!” You hissed, keening for him, “That’s… oh, fuck, that’s so good. Don’t stop. Please, don’t —”

Your orgasm was almost immediate. Your body locked up, every muscle squeezing you until you were frozen, rigidly convulsing as you came on his hand. Your mouth hung open in a breathless, silent scream. Then, to your horror, you felt the heavy stain of some sort of fluid soaking through your pants. At first, you thought you’d wet yourself, but then when John pulled his hand away to inspect your emission, you saw the sticky, gooey consistency shining on his fingers. 

“What… I don’t understand. What is that?”

“It looks like your come, yeah? Quite a lot of it…” He observed. Price brought it to his nose and mouth to smell it. Then, he licked his fingers tentatively, and his eyes rolled back into his head, “Mmm. Fuck. It’s sweet.”

He lifted you so easily, it was as if you weighed nothing. Propping you up on his pillows, he helped you out of your pants and boots, stripping you down. When Price saw you, dripping and pink, splayed in front of him like a gleaming prize, he stalled. Then, he looked up at you, eyes wide with glorious wonder,

“Little bird…”

“John,” you gasped, “Please.”

He didn’t waste any more time. In a flash, your thighs were hitched up toward your chest as he shoved them back, giving his mouth access to its warm, wet reward. 

The first long lick was like its own kind of drug. Your whole body sang like a bell, trembling and ringing out for him and his soft tongue. He licked you again and pulled away, confused but pleasantly so,

“Fuck, love. You taste like strawberries. That’s… fuck.”

You lost track of time as he devoured you. His whole face was shining with your stickiness, and he couldn’t get enough of it. He was gasping for air, practically drowning himself, rubbing his chin and nose through your folds as he tried to writhe his tongue deeper into your core, fucking you with it to draw out more of your slickness. 

The sounds you were making seemed almost inhuman. You were convinced you had never had a true orgasm before if this is what they were supposed to feel like. Every lap of his tongue felt like its own crescendo. You were putty in his hands, figuratively and literally judging by the dampness beneath you. 

Eventually, he made his way back up your body, peeling away your shirt and bra, rustling out of his own clothes as quickly as he could, his muscular arms getting trapped in his jacket, stretching and pulling against his heavy bones for freedom.

“You alright, little bird?” He asked you softly, crawling over you and settling himself between your shivering thighs. 

You nodded,

“Yeah, that was so amazing, John. I know its selfish, but I need more. Can… can you fuck me? Please? I’m clean, I have an IUD. Please? I won’t —”

“Shh. Hush, love. I’m not leavin’ this room ‘til I’ve cured you, one way or another. C’mere.”

He pulled you to him, kissing you, covered in your come. You tasted yourself on his lips, and he was right: it was exactly like strawberries. It must have been the stimulant, you thought. Something to… entice… 

Your mind went blank as John began to feed his fat cockhead into your hole. All of the pain and the heat from the fever disappeared, and you were normal again. Well, a very horny normal, but at least you felt some relief. 

“Oh, my God!” You cried, “That’s it. That’s what I needed. Oh…”

“Yeah?” Price narrowed his eyes, studying your face, watching your reactions with rapt attention. Where you were stabilizing, he was falling apart at the seams. 

His whole body shuddered as he slid himself into you. It was shallow at first; he was too thick to fit inside of your tight pussy, no matter how wet you were. But, as he lubed himself up in your body, he squeezed deeper and deeper inside, eventually drilling down right to his base, slamming his hips into yours like a hungry machine. 

Your screams echoed in his small room, and the metal bed creaked under his enormous weight. You could feel his power through his thrusts. He was so incredibly strong, and his muscles bent and twisted just to serve your pleasure. It was hypnotizing to watch. You were focused on the straining sinew in his immense neck when another orgasm threatened to bubble over inside of you. 

It was too soon. You’d barely recovered from the first one, and as he felt your body start to contract around his shaft, he began to moan right along with you. 

“That’s it, Birdie, let it out. C’mon. Come for me… That’s it. That’s… ungh!” He coached you, talking you through it, fighting his own pleasure like the dragon it was, the heat of his breathing furling in hot bursts down your neck. 

His eyes were wrenched shut, but between his long, aching thrusts, he rambled, spilling out his words instead of himself inside of you like he wanted to. 

“Spar… don’t you know how badly I’ve wanted this?”

Your pussy was being pounded so hard you could feel your pulse slamming against your skin.

“...I’ve wanted you… wanted to feel you…”

His face was near yours, close enough that you could still smell your sweet slick on his beard. 

“...it’s so good. I never want it to stop. Feels like heaven…”

When he wasn’t speaking in that hoarse, smoldering timbre, you could see his jaw working against itself, fighting the inevitable. 

“...so damn responsive to me. Such a good girl…”

Then, his tone turned dark, burning into your face as he spoke against your cheek through gritted teeth, 

“You want more, hm?”

“Yeah…” You whispered, your voice sounding so small. 

“Harder? You want it harder, don’t you, little bird? I can tell.”

You nodded, whispering your pleading to him in wordless gasps. He smiled. You could feel it against your skin,

“Bloody hell. Bloody fuckin’ hell,” he lamented, rising up above you, wrenching his fingers around your waist, the gentleness gone from his touch, “Fuck, Birdie. You’ll make me come. You… ah!”

He brought you with him as he tumbled over the edge. You felt like you’d been hit with a flashbang. You couldn’t hear, and your vision went white. When you begged your lungs to breathe, you couldn’t take in the air. All you could feel — the only thing your body would allow you to feel — was each silky throb of his cock as it pumped his come inside of you. You could feel it as it burst from him, and then as it melted down your walls, flowing across his fleshy head. It was lava-hot, and you knew nothing except that you needed more. 

Price collapsed on top of you, his heavy, furry body sweaty and panting, gasping for air himself. He seemed spent, but you weren’t done. 

You flipped him, planting him on his back, enjoying the shocked look on his face, his eyes wide and uncertain. He couldn’t speak; there wasn’t enough time. But, as you began to rock back and forth on his softening rod, he cried out with something between pain and bliss. 

“Oh, fuck, love… wait! I’m… oh, shite…” 

“I’m… so sorry, John. I can’t stop…” You ground your swollen pussy down to his base, fucking him raw and wild, feeling his come slipping out of you in foamy smears. 

He nodded, hiding his eyes behind his palm, struggling to get his breathing under control,

“It’s alright, Birdie. It’s alright. Take what you need.”

As you rode him, he fully softened in you, and you cried out, trying everything you could to bring him back. Then, you watched as he fumbled across the end table, reaching for the blue pills the medic had left behind. He took one, and stared up at you,

“I’m sorry, love. C’mere.”

He grabbed your thighs, and with very little struggle, situated you across his face, grabbing your hips and pulling you down onto him, forcing you to put your weight on his jaw. He began to eat you out, licking long circles around your messy hole at first, and then he thrust his long tongue inside of you, rubbing his nose deep within your wet folds. 

You screamed for him then, trying to battle your insecurities and failing. It was overwhelming. The pleasure just built and built inside of you, mounting up and then… nothing. It remained there at its peak, a tightened coil, ready to bust. 

“John! John, I can’t… Help me, please.”

With all of his strength, he lifted you off of him, shoving you on all fours, situating himself behind you. 

All of his movements were rabid and unwieldy. He was struggling, trying to overcome his soporific pleasure to accommodate you. Hungry for you even though he’d recently been sated. 

Your chaos quieted for a moment when you felt his fingers prying your lips apart between your legs, slipping into you like a cork, sinking down to his knuckles into a perfect fit. 

“Oh, Sparrow. So fuckin’ soft. So sweet.” 

As he praised you, he ate you, pulling out more and more of your stickiness onto his hand, lapping you up with his tongue. You were coming unwound, and it felt amazing. It was as if he was pulling pulsing orgasms from your body on a long silk ribbon, one after the other, soft and slick, neverending. 

Then, finally, you felt his head tapping its way into your wet hole once more. Fucking you from behind seemed to be your commander’s preference. It was either that or he had become beyond overstimulated. His noises were a cross between whimpers and growls. He kissed his way up your back, sinking his sharp teeth into your neck and shoulder, grunting like an animal as he buried himself into you. 

“You’re so big. I feel so full,” you whispered to him, glancing over your shoulder as he knelt over you like a feral hound, bucking into you shamelessly. 

“Feels good, little bird? ‘M not hurtin’ you, am I?” 

“No, John. You’re perfect,” you found his jaw as he kissed your neck, nuzzling his face with your own, rubbing against him like a cat. 

“Gonna come for me, love? Squeezin’ the fuck out of my cock.”

“I can’t help it,” you cried, feeling hot tears run down your cheeks. You were so overwhelmed, your body was processing every sensation, fraying your nerves. He wiped your temple with his hand, 

“I know, Sparrow. I know. Let it out, love. C’mon. I can take it.”

“Nghah!” You screamed, trying to relax into the blinding pleasure, feeling your legs start to tremble from it.

“Mmm,” Price groaned deeply, sitting back on his knees as he felt you spill over the edge. Your sticky come coated his cock and the dense hair at his base, matting the dark fur, “Tha’s it, baby. Fuck, so wet.”

You sobbed through the orgasm as it wrecked your body. John gathered you up in his arms, taking the sheet with him, clutching you to his chest messily, still humping himself into you as gently as he could, but unable to quell his own lurid desire. 

“Lay down, Birdie,” your captain whispered, pulling the sheet away and pushing you prone into his mattress, “Try to breathe for me. Tha’s it.”

You tried to do as he commanded. You wanted to be good for him, but your breath kept hitching in your throat. You needed more, and you didn’t know how to get it. You writhed below him, feeling his cock slipping in and out of you, the wetness from your body pooling beneath you. 

“John, I’m still so hot. Feels like I’m losing my mind,” you looked at him over your shoulder, and you had to admit he didn’t look much better. He was spent, fucking you on auto-pilot at this point, letting nature take its own path. He was nothing more than base instincts at this point, and you could tell he was having trouble keeping himself tied down. 

He wanted to come again, you could feel it in how rigid his cock had become, helped by the pills. Something inside of you wanted to force his come from him, to make him explode in you again, filling you up. So, you pushed your hips back, arching your spine to allow more of his cock inside of your pussy, teasing him with your swollen hole. 

“Oh, fuck. Sparrow… don’t…”

“Does it feel good, John?” You asked, not following his orders for once, “Do I… make you feel good?”

“Holy fuck,” he spat, his voice dark and animalistic, unable to tear his eyes from where your bodies were joined together.  

You twisted your hips back and forth, effectively jerking him off with your drooling sheath, listening to his deep whining as you tormented him, pushing him to the brink but not fucking him fast enough to toss him over. 

“Little bird… Please…” John whimpered, overstimulated and eager to come.

“Tell me,” you teased him, not recognizing your own voice, “Tell me how you like it.”

“I fuckin’ love it. Just like that, Birdie. So damn good. Keep movin’ your hips like that, pretty girl. Gonna make me come again.”

You could feel his eyes watching you fuck him. He used his hands to pull your ass cheeks apart, giving him a bird’s eye view of both of your holes. You could feel the cool air rush across them, exciting you and making you shiver from the sensation. 

“So damn pretty,” Price crooned, whispering almost to himself, petting your stretched skin with his thumbs, smearing your wetness all over you.

You felt him grab your hair, right at the nape of your neck, forcing your back to arch, pulling you up to him, 

“You want me to come in you, little bird? You want my fuckin’ come? Hm? Tell me!”

“Nghh… Yes,” you hissed. His grip was so restricting, and you felt the air try to escape your throat, “Come. In. Me.”

“Sparrow!” Price shouted, releasing your hair to hold you across your belly, wrapping your body in his arms, ramming himself into you as deeply as he could, letting his cock spill into you once again. 

You were full of him. John was everywhere. He was wet and dripping within you, and as he fell to the bed with you, his body covered yours fully, wrapping you beneath him. You shifted a bit, convincing him to roll onto his side, kissing his neck and face, whispering sweet nothings to him as he caught his breath. 

“So good, John… You are so good to me,” you let your lips sink into his warm, panting mouth, letting your lips slide together. 

“Mmm,” he sighed, “Still hard. The medic was right about those pills.”

“I’m so sorry,” you straddled him again, humping against his still-rigid shaft, “I still need you, John. Please?”

“Sure, little bird. Ah! Oh, fuck, I’m sensitive. Easy… Ngh!”

“I’ll go slow,” you leaned forward to kiss him, capturing his long moan in your mouth. 

Suddenly, there was a quick knock at the door and then a slit of light as it creaked open. A skeletal gloved hand reached in with a stuffed bag and dropped it just inside the room before shutting it tightly again. 

Price removed you gently, watching you pout, and he explained,

“Laswell’s care package.”

“Come back, John,” you pulled his hand toward you as he opened the bag with the other.

He started laughing, letting you guide his cock back into you while he was standing at the edge of the bed. You watched as he pulled a couple of water bottles out of the bag and set them on the end table, still chuckling to himself. 

“Hey,” you pet your fingers through the hair on his belly as you writhed against him, “What’s funny?”

“Strawberries,” he smiled as he pulled a small box of the fruit from the bag, his eyes twinkling in the low light, “You want one, little bird?”

You nodded, but then felt the sudden emptiness of him removing his cock from you again. Then, with a devilish grin, you watched him dip the tip of the bright red fruit into your pussy, twirling it around in your juices, coating it with your thick stickiness, and then sucking it into his mouth, eating half of it and letting it drip down his chin. 

He brought it to your mouth, at the same time thrusting himself all the way inside of you, making you gasp,

“Open wide, love.”

[siilvan]

like real people do

characters: yuri

summary: after a mission goes badly, yuri comes to you to air out his frustrations, and what was a complicated situation ends up becoming something more.

genre: explicit, light angst, hurt/comfort, fem!reader (no desc.)

warnings: cursing, mentions of canon-typical violence, brief mentions of blood/injuries, friends w/ benefits situation, soft dom!yuri, slight possessive!yuri, oral (f!receiving), fingering, lil' hand kink, tattoos <3, unprotected piv, creampies, overstimulation, manhandling, praise, some references to religion, idk yuri's a simp, he's drowning in guilt and pussy

word count: 5.3k

note: this is going to get zero notes, but do i care? no. i'm writing for yuri and forcibly shoving him in everyone's faces until people love him. he's my favorite character and that is going to be VERY obvious here. i have more fics planned. so many. everyone thank @froglights-and-pearls for reminding me of who i am.

aaaand a big thank you to @sofasoap for proofreading this <33

"well, that was a fuckin' bust, yeah?" soap comments after collapsing into a seat, earning pointed looks from the rest of the group as you all boarded the transport helicopter.

gaz slumps down next to him and exhales heavily, shaking his head. "think that's putting it lightly, mate." he chuckles, tapping soap on the shoulder.

ghost takes a seat on soap's other side, rolling his neck to stretch out sore muscles - he took a nasty hit during the mission, his mask partially torn on the cheek and revealing bloodstained skin. you end up sandwiched between price and yuri, tilting your head back to rest against the wall as the adrenaline coursing through you dissipates.

to say that this operation went horribly would be an understatement. you all managed to escape with your lives intact, but the valuable cargo that you were hunting down was lost. you fought to get this lead in the first place, and now you're returning to base with nothing to show for your work other than damaged bodies and morale.

your head rolls to the side, and you end up staring at yuri's side profile. he's hunched forward slightly, a pensive look on his face, brows knitted together from clear frustration.

it’s been a few months since nikolai introduced yuri to the team. after laswell brought up makarov in that chicago bar, everything seemed to move at the speed of light; the invasion of al-mazrah, calling a ceasefire with shadow company, teaming up with farah's forces, mobilizing again before you could even catch your breath... the only good thing to come out of this hectic situation was your newest ally.

yuri was an interesting case from the start. nikolai claims that the two go way back and, after hearing the way he talked about the man prior to your first meeting, you're inclined to believe him when he describes yuri as "one of his best."

his status as a member of nikolai's faction is enough to pique your curiosity - you find out that he's ex-spetsnaz as well, but what catches the entire squad's attention is the offhand comment that the pilot makes.

"he's the only person i know that hates makarov more than you, price."

none of you get the chance to ask him to elaborate, and you've since reached the point where his explanation doesn't matter. yuri fit into the team fairly easily, and trust was quickly built upon after a few missions together. he seemed to understand the enemy just as well as the captain, if not even better. soap made a joke about yuri knowing him a little too well at one point, which he brushed off with a dismissive shake of his head.

the sergeants were the first ones to warm up to him, with price and yourself on their heels. ghost, always wary of anyone new, is a little slower to trust, but after yuri took a bullet in the leg for him, ghost was quick to welcome him into your group.

your lips twitch into a tired smile when yuri glances at you from the corner of his eye, his shoulders dropping slightly upon seeing your face. his hardened expression softens for just a moment, and you mentally celebrate the small victory while nudging his foot closest to you with the side of your boot.

the ride back to base is mostly quiet, save for price updating laswell on the situation over the radio. you're all dejected over the loss, even after price reminds you to not let it get to your heads.

yuri seems especially upset over it, though. you doubt the rest of the team picks up on his mood, but it's clear as day to you.

you've spent a fair number of nights under the man, after all. you'd be ashamed if you couldn't read him by now. the subtle flexing of his fingers wrapped around his gun, the way his pupils dilate as he loses himself in his thoughts, the clench in his jaw - you recognize the signs faster than your own reflection in a mirror.

he's angry. pissed off, actually. yuri doesn't often let his emotions show, preferring to keep up a façade of cool collectedness, but it slips out on occasion.

and when it does, you catch it. you always do.

the chopper touches down on the airstrip eventually, and you relegate yourself to the back of the group as you step out onto the tarmac. price excuses himself to his office while ghost heads off to the medical bay, and the sergeants make a beeline for the showers as soon as their boots hit the ground.

you watch as yuri wordlessly sets off towards the training grounds. it's a habit he has: airing his grievances out on a target.

you, meanwhile, loosely trail behind the sergeants and hop in the shower, rinsing off the grime from the battlefield and willing the loss to wash away with it. you stop by the mess hall for a bit, running into a patched-up ghost, before heading off to your room.

the base that the task force is currently staying at is a bit odd compared to most, in that you have more privacy than normal. while most places offer you cramped barracks or small dorms, the team was given proper rooms in a separate wing. privileges, gaz joked upon your initial arrival.

you're left to your own devices until a while after the sun sets. there's a knock at the door that you almost immediately recognize. you've heard it before, always after night has fallen and the sky is blanketed in darkness.

you trudge across the room and swing the door open, revealing yuri standing on the other side. his gaze stays low, not quite looking at you, but not quite looking away, either. you instinctively move to the side, allowing him to step into the room. the door closes behind him with a soft click, leaving you staring at him as a silence hangs in the air between you.

"need something?" you ask, breaking the silence with a soft voice. his eyes finally flit up to meet yours. there's something swirling in those pale eyes of his, an internal conflict that you've never been able to understand or pull out of him.

"company," he mutters, and you know what he means from that single word.

"destroying a few more targets didn't help, huh?" you chuckle, coming to stand in front of him. you slowly slide your hands up his arms, skimming over his shoulders and cupping his jaw gently. "you look angry, yuri."

he huffs, warm air puffing against your cheek. you can smell the tobacco on his breath. he's been smoking, yet another habit that he tries to avoid showing, especially after you commented on it.

"the only thing that will help is you," he replies, hands settling on your waist. calloused fingertips carefully dig into your flesh underneath your clothes, pulling your body closer to his. "only you can make the anger go away." he adds, thumbs tracing gentle circles into your skin.

you hum, keening at the subtle praise. your palms slide down and press flat against his chest, his heartbeat thrumming strong under your fingertips. you two established a set of rules at the beginning of this arrangement, and you've both been rigid in keeping to them. no kissing, no marking, no "i love you's," no jealousy—

no feelings. this is purely for pleasure, for keeping each other sane outside the battlefield. feelings would only serve to complicate things, and you already have enough on your plates as-is. the rules of engagement were clear, though there were those rare times that the lines blurred.

such as yuri's lips dragging across your sensitive skin after his head drops to your neck. he wouldn't kiss you, he wouldn't suck or bite, but the featherlight trail that he would trace might as well be a mark of its own. you angle your head back, a low sigh falling from your lips. his heartbeat speeds up just barely under your touch, your own picking up speed to match.

you let him walk you backwards toward the bed, the backs of your knees pressing into the edge of the mattress. he lifts his head and leans in close to your ear, his next words mumbled against your skin.

"on your back."

you obey without complaint, pulling your hands away and crawling up the bed, laying on your back and propping yourself up on your elbows.

you watch as he stands at the foot of the bed, his eyes never straying from yours while he pulls off his gloves and drops them somewhere behind him. the gauntlet on his forearm goes next, and you stare with great intrigue as he easily undoes the straps holding it in place and tosses it aside, the hard material carelessly clattering against the carpet. your eyes fall from his, landing on the various tattoos that adorn his hands and forearms, the ink telling a story that you're sure would send your adrenaline rushing.

he sinks to his knees after a second, blunt nails digging into the plush of your thighs as he pulls your body across the duvet towards him. like clockwork, he slides your uniform pants and soaked underwear down your legs before grabbing your thighs and spreading them, leaving your core completely exposed under his heated gaze.

he doesn't give you a chance to blink as he dives in, hot tongue licking a stripe up your slit and sending your head flying back against the bed. you push your hips up towards his face as he laves over your folds, fucking dripping the second his eyes landed on you after showing up at your door, pulling a shameless moan from your lips.

contrary to his usual generosity, yuri entirely avoids your clit as he stuffs your cunt with his tongue, greedily lapping up your arousal before pulling back and making wide circles around the sensitive bud. he teases it with a small flick and dips his head to plunge into your sopping hole again, humming and sending vibrations coursing through you.

you whine, fisting the duvet and squeezing your eyes tightly shut. "fuck, yuri— stop teasing—"

he lifts his head from your cunt and groans, throaty and utterly debauched. "patience," he mutters, heaving one of your thighs over his shoulder and digging his fingers into your hip. "you know i'll take care of you."

you choke on a sob when he flattens his tongue against your clit, circling around it and drawing it into his mouth. he sucks on it before delving into your heat once more, his nose nudging the bundle of nerves and making your back arch off the mattress. the lewd sounds filling the room as he fucks you with his tongue light a fire under your skin, covering your body in a thin sheen of sweat as you moan and clamp your thighs around his head.

he moans into your cunt, hands gripping your thighs as his hips jolt forward, eating you out like a man starved.

"yuri— oh, fuck—" you gasp. "please, please— 'm so fucking close—" you're not sure what you're begging for, what you always end up begging for, but as the coil in your stomach tightens, you can't find it in yourself to think about it any longer.

your jaw goes slack, mouth falling open as his tongue swipes up your arousal, his nose pressing into your swollen clit and dragging a stuttering moan from your parted lips.

"oh my— fucking god... yuri—" you whimper as your cunt pulses and spasms around his tongue, gushing into his mouth with another moan of his name that bounces off the walls of the room. he groans into your wetness and eagerly laps it up, working you through your orgasm as you grind against his face, chasing the sweet pleasure.

after your legs go limp on his shoulders, yuri resurfaces from your cunt, hands massaging your thighs while your breaths come out in pants, chest heaving.

"just like that," he whispers, smearing your slick across your inner thigh as his lips drag across your skin. you look down at him, seeing his steely gaze already trained on your blissed-out expression. "you can give me another, hm?" he asks, brows briefly raising with the question.

his voice has dropped low, his russian accent thick and heavy, words slightly slurring together as he stares up at you. his pale irises are hardly visible around pupils blown wide with lust, and you swallow back a pathetic sound at the sight.

"you can give me another." yuri echoes, more as a statement of fact than a question this time. he knows he's right— you know he's right.

you suck in a breath as two fingers prod at your aching heat, sliding up and down your glistening folds and gathering a mixture of your slick and his saliva.

"fuck, just— please—"

your pleads are cut off by his fingers plunging into you, sinking right up to the knuckle and making you writhe against the bed. they're thick, stretching you open as he curls them inside you, scraping against your gummy walls and teasing that spongy spot that makes your eyes roll back in your skull.

a third digit prods at your entrance after a moment, leaving you moaning and frantically searching for purchase on the bedsheets after he adds it in, pumping three fingers inside you.

"taking me so well..." he grunts, pressing his thumb to your puffy clit and circling it in tight, fast motions.

you buck your hips into his touch, legs shaking as your cunt clenches around his digits like a vice. his unoccupied hand releases your thigh and skates up your side, wrapping around your wrist and distracting you from his ministrations for a second.

he suddenly yanks you towards him, making you sit up and stoop over him. one of your hands lands on his shoulder, holding yourself upright as he continues fucking his fingers into you.

"look at yourself— look at how good you're doing for me." yuri sighs, holding your wrist tight to keep you from falling back. you whine, forcing yourself to tilt your head and stare at where his fingers disappear inside you.

the noises coming from the spot are obscene, lewd squelches accompanying every thrust in and out of your dripping core. you admire your own mess until your attention shifts to him— his fingers, his hand, working you open and sending you to cloud nine.

you've been horribly attracted to his hands ever since he first touched you with them. they're calloused, rough, experienced like you'd expect from someone in the field; but, the ink adorning his skin is what catches your eye. there's crosses on his fingers— holy symbols— and you watch as they drip with your arousal, black ink shining with the wetness coating them and dripping down his wrist.

it feels sinful, like you're fucking in the pews of a church. the rush of it makes your body grow hotter, heat flooding to your cheeks as you bite back a moan.

"take off your shirt." he says, eyes fixated on your drooling cunt.

you manage to tear your hand from his shoulder and slip your shirt over your head, your bra quickly following suit and landing in another small pile of clothes somewhere nearby. yuri's gaze flits up and lands on your breasts, a groan rumbling deep in his chest.

he mumbles something in russian before leaning in, drawing his tongue across one of your nipples and taking it into his mouth. you moan as he greedily sucks on it, your hand cradling the back of his head and holding him close.

it's risky— you two are toeing the line, pushing the rules you established at the start of this relationship.

he moves to your other nipple a moment later and lavishes it with the same treatment, reducing you to a needy, whiny mess. by the time he pulls back from your breasts with a wet pop, there's dark hickeys left in his place.

that's a rule broken.

his head dips back down and his mouth replaces his thumb, hot tongue swirling around your clit as you're suddenly brought back to the present with a loud moan. his hand squeezes around your wrist, reminding you that he only let go long enough for you to strip off the remainder of your clothes. you twist your arm, forcing him to loosen his grip—

he places a few more licks to your clit before wrapping his lips around it, and you moan as the vibrations bring you closer to your second orgasm of the night. you escape his hold only to search for his hand, blindly reaching for it as the pleasure forces you to screw your eyes shut. you fumble after finally finding it, but yuri's quick to help, interlocking your fingers and allowing you to squeeze his hand in a near-death grip.

fuck, this is getting too intimate. he's already broken one rule, and you're just about ready to break the rest. he mirrors your action, holding your hand as you teeter over the edge, your orgasm rapidly approaching.

"so close— 'm so close, yuri. fuck, please—!" you moan, trembling like a leaf in the wind as your orgasm slams into you.

he pumps faster still, letting you ride out the waves of pure bliss until you're whimpering and attempting to move your hips away. yuri lifts his head and hunts for your gaze, locking eyes with you as you hazily look down at him. he pulls his fingers from your folds and hums, satisfied, before pressing them to your lips and cocking his head to the side.

you know what he wants. you take his fingers into your mouth and lave your tongue over them, tasting yourself as you clean your release off of them. he watches you, shifting as his other hand releases yours and reaches for his belt.

"tastes fucking heavenly." he utters softly, sending a shiver down your spine.

he pulls his fingers out and chuckles at your pout, before nodding at the pillows behind you. "get comfortable. we're not done yet."

he sits up on his knees and starts to unbuckle his belt as your tongue darts out to wet your lips. instead of climbing up the bed, however, you reach out and start pawing at his shirt, tugging at it with a small noise of complaint.

yuri lets you undress him, a quiet sigh escaping him as your nails gently scrape down his chest and stomach, trailing over rigid muscle and old scars that he hesitated to tell the stories behind and often disregarded whenever you'd ask about them. you toy with the waistband of his cargos, earning an amused huff and yuri pulling your hands back.

"lay back," he commands in a warm tone, lips twitching into a small smile. "let me take care of you."

your gaze narrows at him, but you comply nonetheless. "thought you came to me for stress relief, not spoiling me."

you hear fabric hitting the floor before he's moving on top of you, caging you in with his hands on either side of your body. "spoiling you helps relieve my stress." he replies, giving you a look as if what he said was an obvious fact.

"lucky me, then." you laugh before cutting yourself off with a sharp inhale as the head of his cock prods at your entrance, dragging through your folds and coating itself in your arousal. his cock sits heavy against your core, a firm weight grounding you in the moment.

yuri grips the base of his shaft in one hand as the other rests next to your head, a tight fist in the sheets. you raise your hips slightly and let out a whine, lifting your arms to grasp at his shoulders as his cock slowly pushes in. a deep groan escapes him as he sinks deeper and deeper inside, your gummy walls fluttering and pulsing around him.

"fuck," he rasps, bottoming out with one final push. "missed this— it's been too long. needed you under me days ago."

you breathe out a moan, tossing your head back against the pillows when he dips down to your neck, panting against your feverish skin. he pulls out, dragging back until the tip just barely slips past your entrance, before snapping his hips forward and burying himself to the hilt.

you're already fighting back a sob as he sets a brutal pace, bullying his cock into your aching cunt, your hands clinging to him anywhere you can find purchase. his shoulders, back, arms— your nails dig into his skin, leaving angry crescent-shaped marks wherever they land. the bedframe creaks under your shared weights, headboard knocking against the wall with each pointed thrust.

after seconds of searching, your hands end up sliding up to his jaw, and you nudge him until he moves from your neck, his face hovering just above yours. your fingertips trace over his jawline tenderly as his forehead comes to rest against yours, your breaths co-mingling. it's too much. you manage to catch his gaze, eyes locking while the tips of your noses brush together. it's not enough.

"what are you doing?" yuri whispers, voice hoarse. he doesn't make any move to pull away; he seems to soften under your touch, if anything.

fuck it.

you surge forward, closing the small gap between you. his movements almost immediately stall once your lips connect and, for a split second, complete terror floods through your veins as the severity of the act hits you.

his hand flies to your face, cupping your cheek and holding you in place as he deepens the kiss with a quiet moan. you squirm under him, your hips pinned to the mattress and flush with his, impatiently seeking out more.

more stimulation, more pleasure, more him.

"we shouldn't be doing this," he mutters against your lips after prying himself away. "the— the agreement—" he adds, though the words die on his tongue as he kisses you again, hungry, like he's been starving up until this point. you try your best to keep up, even as the sheer possessiveness of the kiss easily steals all the air from your lungs.

you break from the kiss only when you're forced to, taking staggering breaths while his hand leaves your face and trails down your side slowly, landing on your thigh once more. he kneads the flesh before pulling your leg to wrap around his waist, allowing his cock to push in that much deeper.

"you deserve better than this." yuri says, pressing his forehead to yours.

with an airy chuckle, you shake your head. "i want you—"

yuri lets out a sound akin to a whimper and a moan, his iron grip on you only tightening when you roll your hips into his. "i'm not— hah, fuck— you feel like heaven… i'm not worth it. i don't deserve it."

you shush him softly, thumbs stroking along his cheeks as you press your lips to his. "let me give you a little peace." you murmur, letting out another heady moan after he starts rocking into you again, his cockhead brushing against that spongy spot inside you that has your back arching off the mattress.

"i only know peace with you in my arms." he replies with a choked sigh. the pressure in the pit of your stomach rapidly builds - between his words and his cock practically rearranging your guts to fit itself deeper inside, you're rendered little more than a breathless, desperate mess pinned underneath him.

it doesn't take much longer for you to reach your peak, barely having the chance to give proper warning before it's washing over you.

"fuck, m'gonna cum—!" you cry, fat tears gathering at your waterline and threatening to spill over.

yuri groans, gravelly, drowning in his own pleasure. "that's it, just come undone for me... show me how good you feel— how good i make you feel." his voice drops, a near-growl lacing his words by the end of the command.

"please, любимая— i need it, i need to feel you..." he says against your lips. "you can do it, i know you can, just one more for me."

that's all it takes to send your next orgasm crashing over you, your legs shaking and mouth falling open in a broken moan of his name. he keeps fucking you through it, hands grasping and kneading at your soft skin hard enough to bruise in the morning, pressing his body flush to yours as he chases his own release.

"good, good... i knew you could do it, my good girl," yuri utters, thrusting sloppily into your heat. "almost there— going to fill you up, nice and full— you've been so good, done so well for me. so proud of you."

he finishes with a guttural moan, pressing impossibly closer to you as warmth floods your insides, some of his cum spilling out of your overworked cunt as he gives a couple more thrusts before stilling, both of you breathing heavily. you stay there for a few seconds, yuri's hands running over your flushed skin as yours run along his shoulders and back, silently basking in the moment.

"i don't deserve you," he says, voice quiet as he kisses a small trail to your ear.

you trace abstract shapes into his skin, smiling to yourself at the way he leans into your touch. "we wouldn't be in this position if you didn't," you angle your head and pepper the side of his jaw with chaste kisses. "we are really bad at following our own rules, though." you add with a chuckle.

he hums, agreeing, and pulls back enough to look down at you. a beat passes before your spent pussy throbs, feeling his half-softened cock start to harden again.

"just one more?" he asks, watching intently as your eyelids droop at the sensation.

"no, yuri— i can't—"

"you can, you've done it before." he reassures you, capturing your lips in a brief, but sweet kiss. "just one more, okay? i promise, just one."

he sits up and drags you along with him, sliding out of your cum-soaked cunt and turning your tired body over as you whine and grumble about it. your front is laid flat against the pillows and your hips propped up, his hands massaging them while he shushes you gently.

yuri presses into you again, his cock sliding past your folds with little resistance and nestling deep inside you with a single push. you whimper from the overstimulation, clit throbbing and legs shaking as you try to hold yourself up.

all it takes to make you moan and bury your face in the pillow is a sharp thrust, his pelvis slamming against the backs of your thighs as he starts a pace you weren't at all expecting. how does he still have so much fucking energy?

"see? i told you— my good girl, my perfect girl, you can give me another one." he muses, rutting into you and savoring each lewd sound that leaves your mouth and soaking wet cunt.

"i can't— 's too much, yuri—" you sob, tears finally spilling over and streaking down your cheeks as he tugs you closer, your tired body sliding up the mattress every time he slams back into you. "please, 'm gonna fall— too weak, too much—" you babble between sniffles and ragged gasps, fisting the bedsheets.

one of his arms circles around your middle and pulls you back, forcing you to sit up on your knees as he holds you to his chest. your head falls forward almost immediately, struggling to keep upright, and his free hand wraps around your throat, carefully but firmly moving your head to rest against his shoulder. he's not choking you, he's not even applying enough pressure to affect your airflow, but it made your breath hitch nonetheless.

"you can take it. just one more, just cum for me one more time," yuri says, dipping his head to press wet, sloppy kisses to your shoulder and neck. "my perfect girl, my sweet fucking girl— want to fill you up, милая. make you drip with me." you wince when his teeth sink in to your skin, leaving painful marks that he soothes with a lick and another kiss, before sucking dark hickeys wherever his mouth can reach.

you frantically grab onto his arms for stability, laying your head back on his shoulder as his hand leaves your neck and travels down your front. it lightly skims over your bruised nipples and makes you shiver, before sliding down your stomach and reaching your clit. he settles two fingers on it, grunting against your pulse as your abused walls clamp down around his length like a vice.

you're dizzy, head spinning as you feel your climax approaching, the pleasure coiling deep in your stomach and causing you to cling to him that much harder.

"yuri... i'm gonna— fuck, please, i wanna cum—"

"i know, i know—" yuri buries his face in the crook of your neck, biting down to muffle the animalistic sounds pouring from his lips. "cum for me, just one more. you can rest after, i'll take care of you, just give me one more—"

you break with a sob, his name falling from your lips like some kind of mantra as your cunt gushes and spasms around his cock.

your body might as well be boneless with how much you're trembling, held up entirely by yuri's arms around you and his own body supporting you. true to his word, he lays you down again, your upper half limply resting on the bed as he grinds into you, barely pulling out before slamming back in.

his pace is frantic, uneven, as he literally fucks you into the mattress, and you don't even have the energy to help him get off like you want to. all you can do is moan and look at him with half-lidded, glassy eyes from over your shoulder, watching as he nears his own peak.

"please, want it inside... please, yuri—" the words slip out, almost inaudible over the sounds of your shared panting, the bed creaking, and the arrhythmic knocking of the headboard against the wall. you'd pity whoever has the room adjacent, if you could even remember any names other than yuri's.

your begging seems to be what finally sends him over the edge, his cum spilling into you again as he lets out a broken moan and a string of curses in russian, your slick walls fluttering around him and trying to milk his cock for everything it has.

he nearly collapses on top of you after a few more thrusts, his body falling in line with yours as he lets some of his weight rest on you. you're both spent, taking in greedy gasps of air as you gradually come down from your highs.

yuri's the first to move, pulling his cock out of you and shifting to hover just above your body, his upper half still comfortably pressing into yours. a gentle hand runs along your side as he peppers your shoulders and the back of your neck with tender kisses, his warm breath fanning over you.

"we, um..." you clear your throat upon hearing the hoarse tone. "we're screwed, aren't we?"

he chuckles, leaning in to kiss the spot below your ear. "yes, we are."

"i think i prefer it this way."

"so do i."

translations:

любимая (liubimaya) - my love/beloved

милая (milaya) - dear/darling

taglist: @sofasoap

[reds-skull]

Not Alive, Nor Dead

[PREV PART] [AO3]

This chapter was very fun to write. I listened to SUPERBLOOM by Silent Planet on loop (it's really good and underrated), if you want to get into the mood you can go listen to it too ig

The plan is practically complete now, the fact doing nothing to calm either Ghost or Soap. The Vaqueros who have been monitoring the bar have informed them they found the PMC’s base of operation - a compound deep in the desert surrounding Las Almas.

They will start by spreading around the compound suspected to house the soldiers of the PMC revenant. 4 teams will form a half-circle, the fifth, composed of himself and Soap, opposite to them. Soap will infiltrate to commence the distraction, Ghost acting as a barrier for any stray soldiers trying to escape, pushing everyone towards the other teams.

Keller and Commander Karim will be the closest team, Farah protecting Alex while he surprises the soldiers, funneling them further towards the Vaqueros and Shadows, Price and Gaz lifting in the air to snipe and allow the Captain to attempt to connect to the revenant’s mind through their servants.

If that fails, their orders are to exterminate all hostiles. Soap was initially charged with that, but the Sergeant vehemently refused, stating his powers are too unpredictable for that.

What interested Ghost is that Johnny didn’t say he couldn’t do it. He just doesn’t want to.

They’re to be deployed tomorrow, using the cover of night to get to their positions covertly. 

Ghost rummages around the small kitchen in one of the common rooms, sighing frustratingly when he goes through the same drawer for the fourth time. Where the fuck does Rudy keep all the bloody teabags?!

Gentle footsteps catch his attention, and he instantly turns to watch the door open. Soap stumbles inside, rubbing tiredly at his eyes, clearly not clocking in the other person in the room.

Johnny crashes into a couch, exhaling loudly and leaning his head back on the headrest. Ghost watches him for a moment, examining the exhausted scrunch to his shut eyes. He steps silently closer, leaning forward to stare directly down at his Sergeant.

“Bed too comfortable, Johnny?”

Ghost smirks at the Scot startling, eyes now wide open glaring at him, “yer a right menace, ye know that?”

His smile widens, “not my fault you all have zero spatial awareness.”

Soap grumbles something under his breath, and shoots an arm up towards his mask. Ghost barely has time to react before Johnny shifts the mask to cover his eyes, “the fuck are you-”

He hears Soap get up, the old couch screeching in protest, and the Sergeant pounces on him, starting to attempt to tackle him down.

Ghost almost laughs when he actually pins him to the back of the couch, his petty technique shifting the fight to his favor.

“What’s that about ‘spatial awareness’, LT?” Johnny breathes in his ear.

He moves slightly in Soap’s hold, “ah, I’m at a disadvantage here, Sergeant. It’s barely fair.”

The arms around him tighten as Soap leans in to whisper, “thought yer good enough to win without sight.”

Ghost turns his head to where he assumes Johnny’s is, “it’s not the blindness that got me. Didn’t have my nightly tea.” he states innocently.

Soap pushes off him with a groan, “awa an’ bile yer heid, fuckin’ Brits…”

Ghost chuckles as he rights the mask, finally seeing Johnny frown at him with (mock) disgust. He can’t help provoke him further, “any chance you know where Rudy hides his stash?”

Soap smiles sarcastically, “aye, I blew it all teh high hell, LT”

Ghost gasps, growling, “you didn’t” 

“Aye, smelled quite nice, burnt to a crisp.”

“I’ll give you ten seconds to run, Sergeant.” Ghost starts stalking closer to Johnny, who continues to smirk confidently at him.

“How generous of ye.” Ghost’s face hurts from smiling.

He stops in front of Johnny, reaching zero in his head, and swiftly crouching to grab Soap by the torso, slinging him over the shoulder while the man thumps at his back, “Oi! Put me down, ye feckin’ brute!”

Ghost hums, “I warned you, Johnny. It’s only fair, no?”

He drops Johnny on the couch, quickly wrapping his limbs around him to cage the Scot.

Johnny wiggles for a few seconds, until the fight in him runs out, and he settles against Ghost’s chest with a small sigh. Ghost tilts his head to look at Soap’s face, the smile slowly melting off his lips.

Johnny lifts a hand to caress the forearm pinning his chest, a mellow and quiet air hanging around him. “I can’t stop having… nightmares.” he starts unprompted, his voice weaker than usual. “Every night, I kill someone. I wake up and remember I didn’t, but it doesn’t change the fact I could.” his eyes look up at his, “I could kill you tomorrow, Simon.”

Simon relaxes his hold on Johnny into something more comfortable, pressing him closer to his heart, “I told you, Johnny. I’m strong. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Johnny twists to face him more properly, “promise me if yer in danger, don’t hesitate to use Limbo. Even if I’ll be in range, even if it kills me.”

His arms flex involuntarily, as if Johnny will fall apart otherwise, perish under his fingertips. He watches fire reflect in blue eyes, sun in grey skies. He wants to be angry at him, for asking something so selfish.

Johnny may follow him anywhere, but Simon will do anything Johnny asks of him. In that way, perhaps they’re both doomed.

Simon sighs, lowering his head to rest on Johnny’s shoulder, murmuring in defeat, “...I promise.”

Johnny pushes further into him, a gentle fire stroking his cheek in gratitude. Something breaks deep inside him, and Simon lays them down on the small couch, hugging Johnny tightly, letting warmth cradle him.

He didn’t mean to fall asleep, but the crackling flames and soft snores became a lullaby for his aching heart, and he drifts off to eternal darkness.

Ghost watches the last team drop off, their Humvee now driving towards the fifth team’s position. Soap has a serious expression, hands grasping tightly at his own tac vest with a white-knuckled grip.

They jump off, the driver shifting gear immediately to return to Los Vaqueros base. Soap comes closer to fist bump Ghost’s shoulder, “I’ll see you on the other side, LT. Don’t miss me too much.” Johnny turns away with a forced smile, Ghost forlornly gazing at his descending figure.

“First team in position.” Commander Karim radios in. The rest of the teams give their own affirmative, and Johnny finishes with, “fifth team in position, awaiting green-light.”

“Good copy, Soap.” Price responds, “you’re authorized for explosion creation.”

Ghost observes the foreboding walls of the compound stand silent for a minute, before brilliant fire erupts and takes them down. The explosions ramp up, the blaze so hot, he feels it several hundred feet away.

He scans the horizon for soldiers, finding none attempting to save themselves from the blasts. 

Did they assume wrong, that the revenant PMC would try to fight back? Ghost grabs his comms, “Sergeant, have you seen any hostiles on your end?”

Soap replies a few seconds later, a little out of breath, “negative. Did you?”

“No, keep burning it down-”

Someone, several hands, tackle Ghost from behind. He growls in surprise, twisting his body to shoot behind him blindly. A body falls to the ground. Three others take its place, grasping at his arms, cold limbs pushing his face to the sand.

Soap shouts in his comms, “Ghost?! Ghost, what the fuck is going on?!”

His comms are still on, he realizes with a flash, “Johnny, get out of there! We’ve been compromised!” he snarls desperately.

“Where are you, I’ll- oh fuck.” Ghost’s rib cage is aching, pressure building inside and out.

“Ghost, there are ballistic missiles here. They’re locking onto something.” 

Fuck, FUCK! Ghost fruitlessly tries to shake off his attackers.

Price’s voice rumbles through the radio, “Soap, Ghost! Get yourself out of there, NOW! The revenant, he’s-!”

One of the soldiers crushes the radio, Ghost gasping at the pain shooting down his left shoulder.

“Ah, Captain Price… figures he’ll be the first to find out. Always was such a pain in the ass.”

Ghost stills, craning his neck to lock eyes with the blank faces of the soldiers. The voice echoes from all of them, surrounding him.

The PMC revenant… he clenches his teeth.

One of the soldiers crouches down, taking hold of his jaw, Ghost unsuccessfully trying to shake him off.

“I told you, you will regret not giving the Sergeant to me.”

Cold ice pours down his veins, and he stills.

It can’t be…

“Graves…” Ghost gasps.

Laughter erupts around him, voices overlapping and distorting, “you really thought I’m a fuckin’ non-rev, Simon?” Graves spits his name like a snake’s venom, “I tried to play nice, I really did. But you…”

The faceless soldier tightens his grip on Ghost, “you decided to fuck it all up. I hope you were happy with your ‘Johnny’, because it’s time we have a little fun.” 

Graves hums, “I’ve always wondered just how strong Soap is… after the carnage he left in Verdansk” the American whistles in reverence, “only you would be able to match something like that, wiping a quarter city in a flash.”

“Ghost! The soldiers activated the missiles, I have to detonate them before the launch, please just fuckin’ answer me!” a desperate voice calls behind him through comms.

Graves clicks his tongue, “well, Ghost? Wouldn’t wanna leave your boyfriend hanging, do we?” he holds a radio in front of Ghost’s face, “you can either let the missiles launch and erase Las Almas off the map, or you can die. Your choice, really.”

Arctic ice numbs his insides. The missiles hit Las Almas, they kill everyone… including their entire team. 

The choice is obvious. And those are the hardest ones to make.

“Johnny…” Ghost rasps at the radio.

“Simon, thank the fuckin’ Reapers-!”

Ghost closes his eyes, indulging in Johnny’s voice for just a little longer, “detonate them.”

A shaky inhale passes through the comms, “are ye far enough?”

Ghost’s neck bows, “I remember the promise.”

Static fills the air for a moment, his breaths loud in his ears. Ghost bites on his tongue just to feel something other than freezing pain.

“It was my choice, Simon. Don’t feel bad about it later, alright?”

Ghost’s voice trembles when he whispers, “I hate you...” 

Johnny laughs for him one last time, the sound bringing tears to his eyes, “I knew you’ve taken a shine to me, LT. I’ll see you on the other side.”

He doesn’t want it to end, not yet, not when he just started to feel like he could have this, not like this, not with those words as the last he ever hears “Johnny, I-”

Graves takes away the radio, “now isn’t that heart-warming? You even got your goodbyes in.” Graves sighs, “it’s an honor to see the Ghost die a second and final time. I’ll make sure they’ll know just how you died, Simon Riley. Alone.”

His voice fades away, only heartbeat and rushing blood passes through his ears.

A deafening sound crackles through the air, Ghost’s eyelids glow reds, oranges, yellow, as the wall of inferno comes closer and closer.

For a moment, he can’t feel the cold anymore. He considers letting go, leaving the world by Johnny’s hand, as he was destined.

For a moment, he considers breaking Johnny’s trust, sacrificing himself to let the other live. He imagines how he would react, how he would hate Simon for the rest of his life. He wants to smile. At least he would be alive to despise him.

He imagines, only for a moment.

Ghost opens his eyes.

Limbo envelopes the world, the dark, cold realm curling around him like death’s last hug. He screams, pushing the soldiers off, leaving them to be consumed by his victims.

Molten light leaks from Ghost’s eyes, pain like no other spreading through him. He doesn’t want to look ahead, to see where the residents run towards, to watch as Johnny is being ripped apart by his own murdered souls.

A strange creature moves in Ghost’s peripheral. He shakily lifts his gaze from the empty ground. A… moth?

A burning moth, wings fluttering and shedding embers of vibrant colors, circling his protective light.

Ghost tilts his head, the creature gentle and soft as it lands on his shoulder, warming him like a small ray of sunlight.

It reminds him of…

Someone screams. Not the gurgled wails of Limbo, a clear, anguished voice.

Ghost finally looks at Johnny.

He stands tall, fire covering his arms, trailing up his shoulders, lighting his back with white flames. Leaving a halo behind him. A single holy being in the void.

 Dark hands grasp at his fire, try to steal it for themselves.

Johnny takes a hand, shouting. 

He explodes the arm. Everything that touches his Sergeant, ignites in beautiful colors, lighting up Limbo in a way Ghost hadn't thought possible. Everywhere he steps, leaves marks of warm light. Everywhere he looks, moths flap softly and spread little sparks.

Johnny’s eyes are glowing, rapidly moving from shape to shape, decimating everything in his path.

Light traces its way down Ghost’s mask.

Johnny is breathtaking.

Their eyes meet, beyond the vast fields of the void.

“SIMON! I CAN’T HOLD ON MUCH LONGER-” One hand leaves a path of shadow on Johnny’s arm, “MAKE IT STOP! SIMON, MAKE IT STOP-!!!”

Simon’s breath restores, he inhales sharply and sends his arms forward, palms taking hold of the imaginary reins on Limbo.

One heartbeat passes.

“ARGHHH-!”

Simon pulls back his arms, yelling as he feels tendons snapping. Limbo swirls, fights back against him, tries to sink its claws back into Johnny.

He pulls harder.

Simon is flung back several feet as the void rushes back into him. His head hits the ground and then-

Darkness.

[itsscromp]

Farah x brother!figure reader who gets caught on a mission (constantly trying to prove himself to the cause) and farah saves him?

Your time will come

This is an awesome idea anon, Once again I apologise for the delay in this, But here is your request :D. Warnings: Canon typical violence word count:1.3K

Through the course of your teenage years, You trained up to fight for Farah's cause, To help the rebellion fight against Barkov's regime.

Farah knew you were reckless, It hadn't started out that way, But when you began to move through the ranks, She could tell the way the training had shaped you, It didn't start initially with the missions, In their training against stronger soldiers you pushed yourself physically so that you could try to gain the upper hand, to prove yourself capable.

But also to Farah... You and her were close, seeing you as a brother she never had. She knew you wanted to get out there and show the world what the freedom fighters can do. But you weren't exactly up to code yet. Which frustrated you when you were constantly put up for lookout.

"Farah, Please I am ready !! I can do it !!"

She turned to you and sighed softly. "I realise that you feel you are ready y/n, but my answer remains. You see to it that our people are watched out for, That is just as important a job as any" She nodded to you as she walked away, preparing for a debrief for a mission tomorrow.

You grumbled as you began to go grab your rifle and walked to your post, you just so happened to overhear the plan in the process.

"Tomorrow morning, we leave before sunrise" Farah spoke up before one of the soldiers did as well "Commander, what of the troops, we still don't have the resources"

"They'll be kept safe. We go before the sun rises and we move forward with the ambush. We can't delay any longer or resources will be our last worry."

With this knowledge, your own judgment got the best of you and decided that this was it, this was the mission that you needed to prove to Farah that you were ready to join alongside her. So with this knowledge, you went back to your room and prepared. Snagging the map from the meeting room later and followed it to where you needed to go.

Farah soon noticed that you weren't at your station on the rooftops, You were meant to be their 30 minutes ago, what the hell ??

She sighed and turned to the other brothers and sisters on the rooftops "Who has seen y/n ??" Most of them shrugged, not knowing where you went. Until one spoke up "I saw them head out of base"

She mumbled frustratingly as she knew what you were doing, you must've overheard her. She immediately grabbed her rifle, and her goggles, getting on her bike. "Move forward with the plans and procced with caution" She said as she started it up, beginning to ride to your location.

You looked down from your map and found the base of operations, This was it, no turning back now. "I got this Farah" You said as you checked your ammo and soon made your way inside.

However, a small problem... Your sneaking skills weren't up to par, soon as you entered the base and began to infiltrate, you tripped on a backpack, falling to the ground. Getting the attention of a soldier and feeling a foot on your back and a gun pressed to your head. "Looks like we got a rat"

"Get off !!" You rolled over, knocking him over and shooting him a couple times, Another problem. Soon gathering the attention of the entire base as the alarm went off. Soon many soldiers surrounded your position. One knocking you in the back of the head with the butt of his gun. Knocking you out.

Soon you wake up to the singular light bulb and your hands tied behind your back... You fucked up big time. But you didn't have time for that as the door opened up, the base's leader in sight with a switchblade in hand... oh double fuck

"Look at you" He simply said.

"I'm just a passerby, I got lost" You tried to excuse until he tossed your backpack in front of you, showing the freedom fighter insignia. "Fuck..."

"You're either brave to come alone... Or very very very stupid"

Meanwhile, Farah finally reached the base of operations, quickly switching off her bike so as not to drag attention. Pulling out her binoculars, she then looked around the base. "Where have you gone ??" She looked over the base, Soon finding a heavily guarded door... Fuck... y/n.

She looked back to the others "The plan is changing, if any of you can make it in that door, be prepared for an ambush, they know we'll be here"

"Yes sister" They replied and began to go in.

Meanwhile, you were getting repeatedly tortured as the leader tried to get you to talk, Clocking you in the jaw, your mouth began to spill blood.

"Talk scum, Are you a scout ?? When will the others arrive ??" He growled

"I'm not saying anything" You said, glaring at him.

They soon walked over to you and drew the switchblade, dragging it gently under your jaw. "Brave... and stupid" Spitting in your face.

Soon another alarm went off. The others were here. He growled turning to you. "You little weasel, the other rats are here"

Farah began to move as quickly as possible to the room as the others began to shoot the other guards and soldiers. Once reaching the room, she then bursted the door open, aiming at the leader. "Drop it" She said as the man turned behind you and held the blade to your neck. "One more step and their done for !!"

"Your troops are surrounded, give up" She said firmly.

The leader made the biggest mistake, beginning the movements, She then shot him in the head. "Clear" She said as one of the sisters came up to you and started to untie you.

You felt like a failure, a massive disappointment. You weren't ready at all, You waited for the barrage from Farah.

She sighed, coming over to you. "I hope you learned a valuable lesson here"

"I have... I'm not ready... nor am I a freedom fighter" You said quietly.

"You've lost my trust, You could've gotten all of us hurt and yourself killed"

You nodded, not looking at her.

"You are staying on watch until you have earned the trust back"

She didn't mean to scold you, You made her extremely worried, putting your life at risk, simply to prove yourself. She didn't want to lose you...

So after which, you did as you were told. Performing watch until you earned that trust back. Fuck... how could you be so stupid. How...

One night, during your watch duty, you heard footsteps approach you, a familiar presence standing next to you. "How are the bruises doing ??"

"They're healing..." That was all you could say before it went into an uncomfortable silence between you two. Soon you were the first to break it. "I'm really sorry Farah"

She shook her head softly "I know... But don't do it again"

You frowned as you soon lowered your rifle. "I shouldn't have been that stupid... Or let my judgment get the better of me"

She nodded, leaning forward "We all do that, at some point... we think we're bigger than the world around us..."

You finally looked at her after many days.

She looked back at you "You want to prove yourself, but you don't have to... You proved yourself to me a long time a go"

You showed a very soft smile "Thank you, Farah"

"You're welcome" She nodded, glad that she had the conversation with you. "You are valued y/n, Don't forget that"

She was right, no matter what situation she puts you in, it was of greater value to her and the freedom fighters, You always carried that along with you for whatever mission came your way. Farah was always wise to you.

A/N: Thank you @callofdudes for helping me gather references for this, much appreciated bestie :D

Taglist: @callofdudes @fun-k-board

[inkedsoldier]

Chew the Bullet - Chapter Five

A Modern Warfare series

Casey Vos is a liaison officer for the Dutch Special Forces. She has been stationed in Afghanistan and Syria, but now works everywhere they need her assistance. Specialized in counterterrorism and intelligence, she is unmistakably a great asset for the upcoming Taskforce 1-4-1, under the command of Captain John Price.

A/N: Here it is – the official chapter five of the Chew the Bullet. Let’s continue the story. English is not my first language, but I’m getting better at it. Please, if you see any errors, let me know so I can fix it. It’s much appreciated. Well, I hope you enjoy! And please leave a note, vote or message with your thoughts! Bravo team out.

Warnings: angst, violence.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

_____

Price believed that the duty of every soldier is to fight for the greater good. He always fights for what’s right, but he also knows that what’s right isn’t always what you’re fighting for. He often takes drastic actions on his own, against all orders. But he couldn’t get over the fact that Kate knew Casey was still alive. “How could you keep that information from me?” he spoke through gritted teeth. On the screen of the laptop the face of Laswell appeared, who had just called in to inform the captain about new intel they received. “She asked me to, John” she answered, her face down. “She was broken. Battered and bruised. I’ve never seen her that scared before. I couldn’t say no. And after all, she did it to protect you. To protect Alex and the rest of the unit.” He sighed, “I know. She always puts herself in second place.”

As a soldier himself, he would have probably handled it the same way. “She trusts us, John. And we can trust her when she makes a decision like that,” Laswell stated. “But we can talk about this later. The agency received intel on the attack. Al-Qatala’s claiming responsibility. Alex is on the ground as we speak, looking for the stolen chems.” Casey already found out that the orders came from the Wolf in Urzikstan. “Well, you’ll need the Liberation Force on his side, so have him contact the CO,” Price informed the CIA station chief. “You know Commander Karim?” she asked. “We’re acquainted. Use my name- or they’ll kill him,” he replied before ending the call.

 Aqtabi, Urzikstan Alex served in Delta Force before he started as an operative of the Special Activities Division of the CIA. He was used to operate under different identities to achieve sensitive objectives wherever he was needed. So, when Laswell asked him to go to Urzikstan he didn’t say no. Alex and his teammates played key roles in some of the most important victories against terrorist networks in 2017. But one mission still haunted him. He couldn’t forget the look in her eyes when she pushed him away from impact. He could’ve died that day in May, but she took his place instead. It was the 26th of October 2019 -  almost two years and six months since that dreadful day.

There was no warm welcome for him in Urzikstan. Price had advised Laswell to use his name while meeting with the Militia leader, Commander Farah Karim. He didn’t know how the captain knew the woman, but she intrigued him. Hadir Karim on the other hand gave him an odd feeling when they spoke about the stolen gas. It was almost like he knew more about it. The planned diversion in the center of Aqtabi went well and he gained the trust of Farah and her brother. Most of the Russians made their way from the military base to the occupied town. The less personnel, the easier the attack on the airbase would go.  

 07:00 PM Al-Raab, Urzikstan - Russian Airbase Hadir had set up shop on the edge of Barkov’s base. He didn’t joke when he told Alex they had their ways to attack the terrorists. Every member of the Urzik Militia was there. Young and old. Men and women. It was a fight of fire against fire. Using improvised drones and Molotov cocktails they managed to breach the airbase, followed by the main hangar where they captured the last weapon armory before Russian reinforcements arrived.

Without air support they wouldn’t make it on their own. Luckily, an unmarked AH-64 Apache was available for this op. “Echo 3-1. Viper 1-1 on approach. Ready for tasking. What’s your position?” the voice sounded through his comms. “Viper, this is 3-1. God damn, good to hear your voice!” Alex replied. “Friendlies in the hangar, taking fire from troops on the tarmac! You are cleared hot!” The Apache pilot approached the site and readied himself to assist the operative and the foreign militia group. “Roger 3-1. Viper inbound, targets are in sight, stand by for fire,” the pilot informed.

With help from Viper 1-1, Alex and the group of men and women took over the Forward Operation Base of Barkov. Russian air capability was hereby temporarily limited allowing Western forces to move through the country. “Today was a great victory for Urzikstan. Thank you, brother” Hadir said, when they regrouped outside the hangar. “We make a good team,” Alex replied with a smile. Farah was happy about the mission, but she was still anxious. “We’ve bought time, but Barkov will retaliate,” she stated. As a girl, she and Hadir were captured by General Barkov. She spend her teens as a prisoner of war, subjected to forced labor and routinely witnessing chemical experimentation. When she escaped with help from then Lieutenant John Price and his team, she vowed to give her life to free her country from subjugation and chaos. “So will we,” Hadir replied.

 10:00 PM Scotland Yard, London As a child she’d been nothing but a mess. She had lost everything and eventually tried to forget everything. Along the way she decided to go for military training and offer her life to safe another. The enforced discipline and daily routine had been good for Casey; it sharpened her mind. Being in line with either people who were scared shitless of too confident for their own good was like a normal nine to five office job for her. As a twenty-seven year old she had more experience in life then most of the people who were the same age.

She was glad that Price came to talk to her about what happened that day and the days that followed. Now the captain knew about her survival, only one man was left who didn’t. Well, one man and the other members of the unit who worked the operation. Casey kept thinking about how Alex would react if they met again. Swallowed by her all the scenarios in her mind, she didn’t hear Kyle approaching, “Hey, you okay?” She looked up with the empty mug still in her hand. “Is there something wrong?” Looking at the clock behind him Casey realized she had been standing at the coffee machine for almost half an hour. “Uh.. Sorry. Got lost in thought, I guess. You want some coffee, too?” With a flash of worry in his eyes he took a step forward, “If you want to talk about it you know you can come to me, right?” The sergeant was a special guy. Their friendship meant a lot to them and that would never change. “I’m good. Don’t worry. It’s been a rough day, that’s all,” the Dutch operator replied softly. “Okay, but keep in mind what I said. I mean it… you know that.” A small smile appeared on her face, “I know.”

While leaving the small office kitchen they run into Price. “Ah, just who I was looking for,” he said with a worried look on his face. “Alex and Commander Karim’s forces have destroyed General Barkov’s Forward Operation Base, temporarily limiting Russian air capability in Urzikstan. We need to move fast.” He gestured to the conference room on the other end of the hallway, where a team was already waiting for directions. This meant that Casey had only a few minutes to get informed by Price on the intel he received from Kate and Alex, while Gaz joined up with his team.

At one of her first briefings the anxiety hit her like a brick in the face, but during the years she became a natural at informing a team about their next mission. “My apologies for letting you all wait,” she spoke picking up the remote on the desk in front of the screen. Price nodded his head, giving her the green light to start informing the team about what had to be done in the next few hours. “Thanks to our intel, we’ve tracked the Al-Qatala cell responsible for the Piccadilly attack to a townhouse in North London.” Multiple identities popped up on the screen with the location of the property that was used to be the hideout of the terrorists. A blueprint of the building appeared next. “Three SAS teams will get inside and connect the dots. If the Wolf is in possession of the stolen Russian gas in Urzikstan, we need to find him…” Casey announced looking at the team in front of her. “But… be advised,” she continued in all seriousness. “There may be non-combatants on target. Check your shots!”

 01:00 AM Camden Town, London They exited the van that was parked at the entrance of the small alley behind the townhouse. “Targets are up, boys. Let’s kick this off,” Price spoke through the comms. Casey looked at him with a smirk on her face and the captain knew all too well why. “And girl,” he stated rolling his eyes, earning a wink from the Dutch lieutenant. Gaz had to cut through the lock of the fence that stopped them from moving further. It was pitch black in the alley. The only light came from the houses where people were still awake. The stars were hidden behind a wall of clouds. It was a cold moonless night. Moving up the alley they finally reached the backdoor of the small backyard. “Bravo six, moving on the rear garden,” Price informed on comms. It was time to roll and get rid of another part of the terrorist cell. Slowly they moved up to the back of the house when the other team made their presence known. “Bravo six, this is Alpha 2. About to enter the west alley.”

Casey watched up to the kitchen window and prepared her entrance. She placed the foldable ladder against the wall and climbed up carefully. “Bravo six, moving interior,” Price stated. Inside the house it was clear that the suspects were here. Talking could be heard from the other room. Someone was asking for tea and one of the female voices was clearly not happy. A door opened and one of the guys silenced the woman just in time by putting a hand over her mouth. Casey walked to the door of the front room and opened it without making a sound. “Drop ‘em,” Price commanded. She first took the two guys in the room, who were clearly carrying handguns. The woman in front of her ducked to the ground. Before she had the chance to grab the AK-47 under the table, Casey downed her. “Secure,” she said making her way back in formation, while Alpha-3 entered through the front door.

Panicked voices could be heard from the upper levels of the building. A man named Mark was yelling to one of the other Al-Qatala members about them being here. It was time to go dark and use night vision goggles. Securing the first floor went as planned. Before going up to the second floor, Casey changed mags so she would not run out of ammo while they cleared the next floor. Again in formation they went up to the second floor. Out of nowhere the plan went south. Moving up to the end of the hallway officer Ahn got shot through one of the doors. Casey threw a flashbang through one of the holes in the door to buy a little time, so they could drag Ahn out of harms way. A loud bang erupted and she entered the room to secure the floor.

The adrenaline raged through her body. “Rally to the stairs,” Price spoke on the comms. Alpha 3-1 and Kyle carried Ahn to safety so the medics could help him with his wounds. The third floor was secured in no time, leaving only the upper floor to go to before they could gather all the intel that lay around. “One floor left, Case” Price said meeting up with the girl in front of the stairs. She took point while John followed close behind. The door was locked, but the captain was carrying a tool to fix that. They cracked the door open and entered the attic with weapons ready. A woman of about 5’3 stood in the middle of the room, begging her not to shoot. “They were going to kill me. Please, don’t shoot,” she pleaded. Casey was about to lower her weapon when the woman ran backwards to grab something of the desk. Without hesitation both Casey as Price shot her. When she finally checked the desk, she was glad they made the decision to down the woman. “Fucking hell! She was going for the detonator.” Price turned around with the laptop in his hands. “Good job we dropped her then,” he responded. “And.. we got a location on the Wolf,” he continued putting the device down on the desk. A chat window was open, with an IP address shown beneath one of the messages. “Bingo!” she replied giving the captain a high five. A big smile appeared on his face.

Taglist: @imahardcase​ @yvessaintrogers​

I’m currently fixing my masterlist - it won’t work anymore and I don’t know why... so might need to make a new one! Keep you all updated!

Question: Who do you all like to see Casey get all romantic with in the future? 

[verycleverboy]

Welcome to October 5th.

Where we are today: President Donald Trump continues to be treated for COVID-19 at Walter Reed Medical Center in Bethesda, Maryland. According to the man himself, he is scheduled to be released at 6:30pm this evening, after which he would continue to be treated at the White House, although questions are still flying about whether that release timetable is too soon.

Indications are that Trump is beginning to get a little stir crazy, and possibly still isn’t taking his disease seriously. A controversial drive around the block to wave at well-wishers, putting everyone in the hermetically-sealed SUV at risk of infection or possibly death for the sake of a photo op, was followed by reports that he was demanding his release on Sunday. “He is done with the hospital,” sources told CNN.

While he was waiting this morning, Trump fired off a tweet storm, his first since entering Walter Reed. He claims he “understands” the virus now that he has it, but read the last paragraph again, along with what may eventually shape up to be a historically infamous message to his loyalists, and see if you agree.

Meanwhile, as new cases in the President’s circle and Congress come to light, the administration’s handling of Trump’s illness, and their internal COVID-19 response in general, has come under fire. Yesterday, The White House Management Office sent its first staff-wide email since the President’s condition was revealed, leaving staffers in the dark all weekend as to what was expected of them when the work week began. A State Department cable from the weekend surfaced today, instructing American diplomatic posts what to say about the President’s diagnosis without giving details on the President’s health. According to CNN, many diplomats didn’t see the guidance message until they were forwarded it on Monday morning.

The most telling messaging failure came yesterday, when White House communications aide Alyssa Farah’s assertion that the West Wing would be releasing numbers of staffers who have tested positive for coronavirus was contradicted later in the afternoon by press secretary Kayleigh McEnany, who said that would not be happening due to privacy concerns. Then Monday morning came, and McEnany became one of those numbers. So it goes.

Meanwhile, both Joe Biden and House Speaker Nancy Pelosi (who comes after Mike Pence in the line of succession if things take a turn) are getting updates on Trump’s condition from the media, not from the White House  Transparency isn’t in the cards in an administration where painting over the windows is the standard operating procedure.

Mitch McConnell has adjourned the Senate for a two-week recess in light of recent positive developments, but in spite of three members of the Senate Judiciary Committee either being positive cases or in precautionary self-quarantine, he still says the Supreme Court confirmation hearings of Amy Coney Barrett are going forward as scheduled. 

First Lady Melania Trump, who did not join her husband at Walter Reed, continues to rest at the White House during her recovery.

Other confirmed positives for COVID-19:

(This is not intended to be a complete list, and is based on news reports concerning those who are known to have been in contact with other infected individuals in connection with recent events. Status changes since last night will be listed in bold. Updated throughout the day as new information becomes available from the CNN, NBC News, and CBS News live update pages.)

White House

Hope Hicks: Began showing symptoms on Wednesday, tested positive on Thursday morning. Was not in attendance at Judge Amy Coney Barrett’s nomination event on September 26th.

Nicholas Luna, personal assistant to the President: Luna is a “body man”, whose duties require him to be in close proximity to the President at all times.

Kayleigh McEnany, White House press secretary:  She was not aware of the Hicks diagnosis when she addressed the press on Thursday.

Chad Gilmartin and Karoline Leavitt, members of Kayleigh McEnany’s staff.

Three initially unidentified members of the White House press corps and an unidentified staffer who works with the media. Per the White House Correspondents’ Association president Zeke Miller: Individual #1 attended a Sunday briefing and tested positive on Friday after exhibiting symptoms on Thursday. Individual #2 (later confirmed to be Michael Shear of the New York Times) was part of the press pool which traveled to last Saturday’s Pennsylvania rally; also exhibited symptoms on Thursday and tested positive on Friday. Individual #3 was in the press pool for the Barrett Rose Garden event and also travelled with the press pool on Sunday. #3 exhibited symptoms on Wednesday and tested positive Friday afternoon. The press at the Barret event were confined in a crowded “penlike enclosure” behind the invited guests (per Washington Post).

Campaign personnel

Chris Christie: Attended the Barrett nomination event and was part of Trump debate prep. Christie, whose asthma puts him in a higher risk group, checked himself into Morristown Medical Center as a precautionary measure.

Kellyanne Conway: Attended the Barrett nomination event and was part of Trump debate prep. The initial news came in the form of a string of snarky Tiktok posts on Friday from her daughter Claudia, followed much later by a confirmation from Kellyanne herself.

RNC Chairwoman Ronna McDaniel: Isolating at home since last Saturday, tested Wednesday.

Bill Stepien, current Trump 2020 campaign manager: In the White House on Monday, in Cleveland for Tuesday’s presidential debate, traveled with Trump and Hicks aboard Air Force One afterwards.

US Congress

Sen. Ron Johnson (R-WI): Per CNN: “Johnson was not at the Amy Coney Barrett ceremony because he was quarantining from a prior exposure, during which he twice tested negative for the virus, according to the spokesperson.” He was exposed “shortly after” returning to Washington.

Sen. Mike Lee, (R-UT): Attended the Barrett nomination event.

Sen. Thom Tillis (R-NC): Attended the Barrett nomination event.

Others

University of Notre Dame President Rev. John I. Jenkins, CSC: Attended the Barrett nomination event. Jenkins was told that he didn’t need to wear a mask to the event after he and other guests tested negative at the White House.

Confirmed negatives:

(Because of the nature of COVID-19, this list is subject to change.)

Mike and Karen Pence: The Pences have been testing daily since the announcement of the Trumps’ diagnosis.

Secretary of State Mike Pompeo

Treasury Secretary Steve Mnuchin

Ivanka Trump and Jared Kushner: Recently traveled with Hope Hicks

Barron Trump

Eric Trump (at debate)

Lara Trump (at debate)

Donald Trump Jr. (flew on Air Force One to Cleveland debate, did not fly back)

Mark Meadows, White House chief of staff

Stephen Miller, Senior Advisor to the President

Pat Cipollone, White House counsel

Dan Scavino, Deputy Chief of Staff for Communications and Director of Social Media

HHS Secretary Alex Azar

Attorney General Bill Barr

Defense Secretary Mark Esper

WH Press Secretary Kayleigh McEnany

Justin Clark, deputy campaign manager

Rudy Giuliani: Was in Trump debate prep.

Jason Miller: Was in Trump debate prep.

Alice Marie Johnson (flew on Air Force One to Cleveland debate)

Judge Amy Coney Barrett: Barrett and her husband had coronavirus earlier this year and recovered, per AP News.

House Speaker Nancy Pelosi, (D-CA): Tested out of "an abundance of caution” because of Steve Mnuchin meeting earlier this week.

Rep. Jim Jordan (R-OH): Few on Air Force One to Cleveland debate, did not fly back.

DNC Chairman Tom Perez: In front row for Tuesday’s debate.

Sen. Josh Hawley (R-MO):  Attended the Barrett nomination event, was seen there without a face covering.

Sen. Ted Cruz (R-TX): Precautionary quarantine because of close contact with COVID-19-positive individuals.

Sen. Ben Sasse (R-NE): Precautionary quarantine because of close contact with COVID-19-positive individuals.

Sen. James Lankford (R-OK):  Precautionary quarantine because of close contact with COVID-19-positive individuals.

Status unknown as of Monday midday:

Kimberly Guilfoyle (at debate)

Alyssa Farah, White House Director of Strategic Communications

Robert O’Brien, national security adviser (tested positive for coronavirus in July)

Tiffany Trump (at debate)

Derek Lyons,  Counselor to the President

Sen. Chuck Grassley, (R-IA), Senate pro tem: Declined to be tested, claiming physician’s advice as his reason; attended a meeting Thursday with Sen. Mike Lee.

30-50 donors who were in close contact with President Trump during an in-person event held at Trump’s Bedminster golf club on Thursday night. According to the official story, the event was held hours before President Trump’s positive test came back, but Hicks’s positive came back immediately before he left (although for a variety of reasons, the validity of that timeline is up in the air). 

And because they’re stuck in this story, too:

Joe and Jill Biden: negative, committed to regular testing on all campaign event days.

Kamala Harris and her husband Doug Emhoff: negative

(A necessary reminder: Incubation time of COVID-19 varies among infected individuals, and some of the “rapid” tests have a high rate of false negatives, so this list is subject to change in both directions as new information is made available.)

[fromthe-point]

The ECHL announced on Tuesday that the League’s Board of Governors has approved the Transfer of Controlling Interest in the Jacksonville Icemen’s Membership from EI Acquisitions, a group led by Ronald Geary, to SZH Hockey LLC, a group led by Andrew Kaufmann.

“On behalf of the League, I’d like to thank Ron Geary for bringing the team to Jacksonville and giving the community the chance to experience ECHL hockey,” said ECHL Commissioner Ryan Crelin. “With the success of the Icemen and their fan base, I look forward to even more growth with the excitement and energy that Andy is going to bring to the team, as well as his local presence in the community.”

Kaufmann is a successful entrepreneur and businessman who started in his family business (Revere Supply Company, a manufacturer of marine survival products) while in high school, working for his dad and compensated with baseball cards. After graduating from Emerson College, and a stint at Radio Disney in Boston, he moved back to New Jersey and assumed full responsibilities of business operations in 2001.

In 2010, Kaufmann acquired UST Brands. He spearheaded and oversaw all aspects of this venture which became a leading provider of high-quality survival and camping equipment with distribution nationally through such retail giants as Walmart, Dick’s Sporting Goods, West Marine, Advance Auto Parts and Meijer. Through Kaufmann’s leadership, Walmart quickly recognized and ultimately sold UST. After selling UST Brands, he acquired Majority Ownership of the Fort Myers Miracle Baseball team ("A" Florida State League) on Jan. 8, 2019. Andy determined that his next business would be a long-term family business where he can teach what he knows to his two sons as they grow. He decided to combine two of his lifelong passions, business and sports. Andy, his wife Farah and their sons Sawyer and Zachary live and are very active in the Jacksonville community.

[ericvick]

Curaleaf expands its cannabis empire to Europe with a $286 million deal

Benzinga

Cannabis Countdown: Top 10 Marijuana And Psychedelics Industry News Stories Of The Week

Welcome to the Cannabis Countdown, the Legal Marijuana Industry’s Number One Curated Weekly News Recap. In This Week’s Edition, We Recap and Countdown the Top 10 Cannabis and Psychedelics Industry News Stories for the Week of March 1st – 7th, 2021. Without further ado, let’s get started. * Yahoo Finance readers, please click here to view the full article. 10. Creso Pharma: A Global Cannabis Powerhouse in the Making With Canada Currently the Only Major Country at the Moment to Allow Recreational Cannabis Nationwide and Mexico and the U.S. Expected to Join Their Neighbour to the North By the End of 2021, Much of the Attention on the Cannabis Industry is Focused on the Americas These are no doubt groundbreaking advancements, but in an emerging industry in its infancy, it’s just the beginning. As the push for legalization in the U.S., Mexico, Latin America, Europe, the Middle East and Asia-Pacific intensifies, Cannabis is ultimately going global. One company that is focused on exploring these international opportunities is Creso Pharma (OTC: COPHF). Based in Australia, and with operations around the world, Creso has emerged as a global cannabis industry leader. READ FULL CRESO PHARMA ARTICLE 9. Local Activists in Washington State Push For Psilocybin Decriminalization Voters in Spokane, Washington Could Make the City One of the Latest to Decriminalize Psilocybin Mushrooms Under a Proposed Ordinance That Was Recently Filed By Local Activists The initiative, which was introduced by the group Decriminalize Spokane, would make enforcement of laws prohibiting the personal possession, cultivation and limited distribution of Psilocybin for adults 21 and over among the city’s lowest priorities and would further ban officials from using “any city funds or resources to assist in the enforcement of laws imposing criminal penalties for the use, possession, transportation, cultivation, or distribution of psilocybin mushrooms.” READ FULL WASHINGTON PSILOCYBIN ARTICLE 8. The Race to Patent Psychedelics is Just Getting Started Psychedelics Now Appear in Patent Applications for Philip Morris E-Cigarettes, Periodontal Disease, Hair Loss, Weight Loss, and Food Allergies Patent announcements are hard to miss in the Psychedelic field these days. Most recently, as Troy Farah wrote in Future Human, the biotech startup CaaMTech was granted a patent for the combination of Cannabis and Psilocybin. A patent application from mental health company Compass Pathways (NASDAQ: CMPS) garnered attention for including claims on very basic elements of psychedelic psychotherapy—from holding hands to using soft furniture. READ FULL PSYCHEDELIC PATENTS ARTICLE 7. Cannabis-Infused Beverage Sales Up 40%, Helped By Consumers Seeking Convenient Products Marijuana Beverage Companies, For Example, Have Been Cashing in on Health-Related Trends Such as Dry January, When Alcohol Drinkers Abstain for the Month and Look for Alternative Ways to Relax Sales of cannabis-infused beverages were up 40% last year, as companies sought to capitalize on new marijuana consumers seeking a familiar form of consumption and those looking for an alternative to alcoholic drinks. READ FULL CANNABIS BEVERAGES ARTICLE 6. Study Finds Ketamine Can Help Patients Manage Depression and PTSD On March 2, Associate Professor Monnica Williams, Who is Also the Canada Research Chair for Mental Health Disparities at the University of Ottawa’s School of Psychology, Led an Online Seminar Entitled, “Psychedelics, Therapies, Research, and Training” During the seminar, Williams explained how Ketamine, a dissociative drug that can distort one’s environment and thoughts, can help patients overcome anxiety, depression, and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). In her study, Williams wrote that ketamine can reduce depressive symptoms in patients and these benefits can last for nearly two weeks. Also in this study, Williams explains why ketamine alleviates symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Ketamine, “produces [an altered] state of consciousness, promotes relief from negativity, [and produces] an openness to new perspectives.” READ FULL KETAMINE ARTICLE 5. Mexican Lawmakers Circulate Amended Marijuana Legalization Bill That’s Set For a Vote on Monday Lawmakers in Mexico’s Chamber of Deputies Are Finally Set to Take Up a Bill to Legalize Marijuana Nationally in the Coming Days, But the Proposal Has Recently Been Subject to Several Significant Revisions Since Being Approved By the Senate Last Year First, a joint hearing of the chamber’s Health and Justice committees will take place on Monday, and a vote in the full chamber is expected the following day or on Wednesday. Advocates have been eagerly awaiting the introduction of new language, hopeful that it would address certain concerns with the Senate proposal, and now they’re getting details about what is being changed by the joint panels. READ FULL MEXICO CANNABIS ARTICLE 4. Peter Thiel-Backed Psychedelics Firm Hits $2-Billion Valuation Atai Life Sciences is Gearing Up for a Potential U.S. IPO as Soon as the Second Quarter, Sources Say Atai Life Sciences, a German startup looking into ways of using Psychedelic substances to treat mental health disorders, has been valued at about US$2 billion in a funding round ahead of its potential listing, people familiar with the matter said. Berlin-based Atai plans to hire Credit Suisse Group AG and Citigroup Inc. for a potential U.S. initial public offering that could take place as early as the second quarter, the people said, asking not to be identified because the information is private. READ FULL ATAI ARTICLE 3. With Marijuana the Hot Theme of 2021, Here’s Why Red White & Bloom Could Be One of the Cannabis Sector’s Top Performers Anyone Remotely Familiar With Cannabis Investing Has Heard of High Times Magazine, However, Many Are Still Unaware of the Rising U.S. Marijuana Stock That Owns the Rights to High Times Branded Assets in Key U.S. Markets Red White & Bloom(OTCQX: RWBYF), a rising U.S. Multi-State Operator (MSO) with a growing American footprint that now includes California, Arizona, Michigan, Illinois, Oklahoma, and Massachusetts, has until now largely flown under most investors’ radar. READ FULL RWB ARTICLE 2. Will Hawaii Pass a Psilocybin Legalization Bill? Senator Chang Makes a Strong Case Last Month, a Group of Hawaiian Legislators Introduced a Bill That Would Legalize and Regulate Psilocybin, the Active Compounds in “Magic Mushrooms” “The reason I wanted to introduce this measure is that, as you know, in the 2020 election, a number of jurisdictions across the country, including Oregon, Oakland, Sacramento, Denver, Somerville, have moved forward with different legislation on Psilocybin and further research and application of its mental health properties. And I believe that Hawaii should be part of that movement,” said Hawaii Senator Stanley Chang, one of the bill’s proponents. READ FULL HAWAII PSILOCYBIN ARTICLE 1. Canopy, Creso, and Celebrities Including Martha Stewart Capitalize on Growing Pet CBD Industry While Developments in the Diversification of CBD Products Have Been Mainly Targeted Towards Humans, Celebrities and Companies Like Canopy Growth and Creso Pharma Are Cashing in on the CBD Industry Targeted Specifically to Our Furry Friends In addition to her best-selling Martha Stewart CBD gummies, Stewart has made the foray into CBD for pets, which is Stewart says is “a very fast-growing category,” when she appeared on Fox Businesses Mornings with Mindy on Monday, “That industry is going to be worth $10 billion by 2023, it’s estimated,” the popular house and home guru stated. Stewart has partnered with Canopy Growth (NYSE: CGC) to produce a variety of CBD-infused chews targeted at anxiety, wellness and mobility help for pets. Bruce Linton, the founder and former CEO of Canopy Growth, is now a strategic advisor for Creso Pharma (OTC: COPHF), which has been researching pet products in Switzerland. Linton called cannabinoids for pets a “big underserviced serious market”, noting that Creso’s focus on research and development is what sets their pet products apart, with other companies, notably in North America, putting “the marketing brochure before the effort of doing the work.” READ FULL PETS CDB ARTICLE Photo by Rick Proctor on Unsplash See more from BenzingaClick here for options trades from BenzingaCannabis Countdown: Top 10 Marijuana And Psychedelic Stock News Stories Of The WeekCannabis Countdown: Top 10 Marijuana And Psychedelics Industry News Stories Of The Week© 2021 Benzinga.com. Benzinga does not provide investment advice. All rights reserved.

[shirlleycoyle]

The Race to Patent Psychedelics Is Just Getting Started

The author and podcast host Tim Ferriss has done his share of heavy lifting when it comes to supporting and promoting research on psychedelic drugs. He’s invested millions of his own, and also organized half the $17 million in commitments it took to start up the Johns Hopkins Center for Psychedelic & Consciousness Research. 

While his efforts highlight the reality that psychedelic therapy, like any other medical treatment, requires significant amounts of money for research, Ferriss recently tweeted his apprehension about a side effect of the growing money-generating psychedelic market. 

"I am very concerned by the patent land grab warming up in the for-profit psychedelic world,” he wrote, asking publicly if there was any coalition of pro-bono lawyers who could intervene “when companies attempt to secure broad patents that could hinder scientific research, reasonable competition…and so on?”

Patent announcements are hard to miss in the psychedelic field these days. Most recently, as Troy Farah wrote in Future Human, the biotech startup CaaMTech was granted a patent for the combination of cannabis and psilocybin. A patent application from mental health company Compass Pathways garnered attention for including claims on very basic elements of psychedelic psychotherapy—from holding hands to using soft furniture. 

A patent gives an individual or company ownership over an invention, and then prevents others from using their invention without licensing it. The patent office looks at scientific literature and prior patents to determine if an invention should be granted a patent, but the amount of psychedelic knowledge might not be reflected in these resources since psychedelics have been illegal and operating underground. 

In many respects, the for-profit psychedelic field is behaving the same as other biotech companies have before—they’re taking notice of potentially beneficial compounds and research, and trying to patent “novel” uses to build profitable patent libraries. The issue that's arising is partly a philosophical one: The experiences that many people have taking psychedelics directly contradict this shift towards ownership, profit, and exclusion. More practically, as researchers continue to show promising results from academic trials on a myriad of mental health disorders, there’s valid concern about psychedelics becoming price gouged or monopolized through intellectual property (IP). 

There's notable disagreement about how to move forward from the field's major players. Rick Doblin, the founder and executive director of the Multidisciplinary Association for Psychedelic Studies (MAPS), responded to Ferriss' tweet to say that MAPS “has recently engaged patent attorneys to assist in strengthening our anti-patent strategy for uses of MDMA, and to prepare easily accessible information for patent examiners so patents will not be issued in the first place.” 

Doblin also wrote that MAPS will not seek to patent any uses of MDMA for clinical use, “and will actively challenge patents on MDMA-assisted therapy that seek to privatize information already in the public domain that don’t represent actual innovations.” Similarly, the non-profit Usona Institute has taken an "open science" approach by not filing for patents.

Christian Angermayer, the psychedelic investor who helped fund Compass Pathways and co-founded the company ATAI Life Sciences, took another view, responding to Ferriss: “Tim I am [a] HUGE fan of your work, but on this topic you are incredibly misguided.” He went on to say that while Ferris has donated a “few million” dollars to the psychedelic research space, “It’s a drop in the ocean relative to what’s needed.” 

Angermayer also recently said in an interview that he believes that biotech will be one of the best performing asset classes of the next 20 years. “What tech was the last two decades, the next two decades will be biotech," he said. "50% of my entire portfolio is in biotech.”

Patent applications are secret for 18 months, and what we've seen is likely only the tip of the psychedelic patent iceberg. Psilocybin Alpha, a publication geared towards investors in psychedelic medicine, has a Psilocybin Patent Tracker, an MDMA Patent Tracker, and a DMT Patent Tracker, so that anyone can keep as up to date as possible on what’s being filed.

To get a sense of what's out there right now, Motherboard took a look at several pending and granted patents that include psychedelics, to show how diverse these applications can be. Psychedelic compounds appear in patent applications for Phillip Morris e-cigarettes, periodontal disease, hair loss, weight loss, and the treatment of food allergies. 

What’s crucial to understanding some of these applications is that they are not all primarily psychedelic patent applications; they’re patent applications for other inventions that happen to include different psychedelics as an optional or potential part of that invention. Remember: With patent applications, there’s no guarantee that they’ll be granted, and if they are, they could be heavily amended beforehand. Still, what we can see from the wide scope of these applications is that psychedelics are increasingly popping up, and that the "patent land grab" is reaching much farther than just mental health.

Phillip Morris and “DMT vape pens”

After Graham Pechenik, a patent and IP lawyer, tweeted that cigarette and tobacco company Phillip Morris' patent grants and applications have the largest number of disclosing uses for N,N-DMT & 5-MeO-DMT (different formulations of DMT), he said it caused quite a buzz.

Screen shot from patent application.

But there’s some nuance here to unpack: The Phillip Morris patents aren’t really patents for “DMT vape pens.” They are patents or applications on various types of e-cigarettes and mechanisms within the e-cigarettes. DMT and 5-MeO-DMT are included in a list of "medicaments" that could be used in those e-cigarettes. 

That said, if DMT were legalized, Phillip Morris could have grounds to prevent anyone else from putting DMT in Philip Morris devices specifically. “Phillip Morris is definitely not patenting a DMT vape pen, specifically,” Pechenik said. “But, it at least shows that they're aware that this is a compound that could be used.” 

DMT vape pens don’t currently have any research behind them: It's unknown whether they are safe, for one, or if they have any other benefits or uses.

“In essence, I think they’re looking ahead, and want to make sure nobody would be able to say that they’re not infringing because DMT wasn’t in Philip Morris’ patents," Pechenik said. "And [they] want to stake out the space so that others don’t file their own patents specific to DMT vapes." 

Psychedelics for food allergies

In 2018, alternative medicine proponent and doctor Andrew Weil told Joe Rogan that his cat allergy disappeared after he took LSD. He told CBS journalist Ed Bradley the same anecdote in 2001: “I took LSD. I was in a wonderful outdoor setting. I felt terrific and, in the midst of this, a cat came up to me and crawled into my lap. I did not have an allergic reaction to it and I never did since.”

He continued to tell Bradley that he thought food allergies were “learned.” ”That gave me the idea that [taking LSD] would be a great way to teach people to unlearn allergies," he said. (In the same interview he said he wasn’t comfortable being called a shaman or a medical holy man, but that “wizard” was OK.) 

Food allergies are incredibly complex. There’s no current research on psychedelics for food allergies; the most promising food allergy treatment is oral immunotherapy, which exposes you to tiny amounts of the food you’re allergic to in order to become desensitized to it. Another innovative approach still being researched attempts to utilize compounds made by gut bacteria.

But there is one public patent application making claims on psychedelics' ability to treat food allergies. The patent application even makes claims around severe allergic reactions: “Food allergy conditions may, after exposure to an allergen, cause an anaphylactic condition in a subject. Accordingly, the methods of the present disclosure may, in some instances, treat, including prevent or lessen the severity of, anaphylaxis in a subject following exposure to an antigen.” 

The food allergy application was filed by the investment firm Palo Alto Investors. Joon Yun, the president and managing partner, described the group on his website as a “team of practicing physicians run one of the biggest healthcare investment shops in the country. We make long-term investments for high-net-worth and institutional investors based on original, deep, fundamental research. We don’t rent stocks. We own them.”

How can a patent application be filed for something that has yet to be proven? Pechenik said that the U.S. has pretty liberal laws around providing evidence for your patent claims. All that is required in an application is a description of your invention so that someone could make and use it. Then, a patent application can include something called a “prophetic example,” which can be found in this food allergy application. Their “example,” shown below, is not actually an experiment that took place.

Screen shot from patent application.

“Basically it’s a prophecy, quite literally, where you just lay out what a research program may look like, and then just prophesize what the results you hope to achieve are,” Pechenik said. He's worked on cases where a prophetic example was enough to get a patent granted. 

When writing prophetic claims, applicants have to avoid using the past tense. “Doing so, and making people think it’s been done, can actually be inequitable conduct that can render a patent unenforceable,” Pechenik said.

Patent examiners can push back, and try to limit patent claims to be more specific, or gather more evidence. In the most recent back and forth on this patent application, the examiners wrote that the application claims could only include claims on "treating food allergy by LSD,” whereas the original filed application claims included all psychedelics. 

The application’s amended claims, filed on February 16, 2021, now only include LSD. “This helps the examiner save time, and forces an applicant to pay multiple fees where there’s more than ‘a single invention’ in an application,” Pechenik said. “What will happen now, most likely, is the applicant will file one or more continuation applications to next ask for claims to psilocin or other agents.” 

David Casimir, a lawyer specializing in intellectual property who has a Ph.D. in biochemistry,  thinks that this patent won't be issued if it’s examined thoroughly—but he can’t say for certain. “Maybe it would,” he said. “But then what that would be is essentially a very challengeable patent if it is issued as broadly as it's written right now.”

There could be another barrier to this patent application called “anticipation by inherency.” This means that even if you discover something “new,” if it’s been happening "inherently" in the past, you can’t get a patent on it. That means if LSD really does treat food allergies (again—there’s no evidence yet that it does) thousands or more people would have already received this benefit. 

“This would have happened in the past, even if it’s not in the public literature,” Casimir said. “If the patent office can find evidence to see that someone in the past took a psychedelic drug and had a food allergy, then they should be unpatentable unless they can prove that there's a specific mechanism that's being treated here.”

Psychedelics for weight loss

On March 2, NeonMind Biosciences announced in a press release that it filed four provisional patent applications involving the potential use of psilocybin as a treatment for weight loss. “NeonMind’s proprietary preclinical data shows promise that both low and high dose psilocybin may reduce weight gain and that the reduction in weight gain can occur in a short period of time,” the release said. 

NeonMind’s pending patent applications include a wide variety of psychedelic compounds, including psilocybin, DMT, and LSD, for treatments including weight loss, obesity, reduction of food cravings, and decreasing food intake. 

This isn’t the first psychedelic patent application we’ve seen for weight loss. In 2019, The Yield Growth Corp. announced that its subsidiary Flourish Mushroom Labs filed a provisional patent application for the use of psychedelic mushroom compounds for weight loss. 

Pechenik said that generally, whoever files a patent application first has priority, but there are many different ways a later patent could differentiate itself from an earlier one—whether it be specific formulation, dose, or patient population. Either way, it looks there will be various attempts to apply psychedelics to different components of weight loss. 

An LSD disrupter

Usually, when a person takes LSD, they commit to an experience of at least six to 12 hours. What if you could stop it early? That’s what the psychedelic company MindMed is trying to patent with its application for an “LSD neutralizer,” a compound called ketanserin. 

LSD is serotonergic, meaning that it binds to serotonin receptors—specifically, one called the 5-HT2A receptor. Ketanserin has the opposite effect on the receptor. One study has previously found that if people took ketanserin before taking LSD, it prevented the most intense effects of the psychedelic. MindMed is investigating whether or not ketanserin could be used after a person has already taken LSD in order to shorten or end the trip. 

In February, MindMed announced that it was beginning a double-blind, placebo-controlled study, in collaboration with the University Hospital Basel, on ketanserin. “This study will support the patent application that was filed last year (preserving all worldwide rights) for a neutralizer technology intended to shorten and stop the effects of an LSD trip during a therapy session,” according to their press release. 

As Psilocybin Alpha noted, ketanserin was discovered by Janssen Pharmaceuticals, which was owned by J&J, in 1980. “Whether this application of ketanserin will be effective, patentable, and profitable is yet to be seen,” Psilocybin Alpha wrote. 

A personalized psychedelics scent bubble

This ethereal patent application is for a device that creates and maintains a “personalized bubble of scent" around a person. While the scent bubble could be used for perfume, the application writes that other liquids could also be dispensed, including psychedelic medicines like LSD and psilocybin. Also on the list of potential ingredients for a personal bubble: human pheromones, insect repellant, anti-cellulite liquid, and vitamin-enhanced liquid. 

Image from patent application.

Psychedelics for hair loss and periodontal disease

Like the Phillip Morris patents, these applications are not directly for the treatment of hair or tooth loss with psychedelics, but include psychedelics within the language of the patent application. 

The periodontal application is primarily for a way to categorize patients with periodontal disease, and how to treat each patient accordingly. The hair loss patent application is about treating traction alopecia with compounds that have a specific kind of biological interaction with the scalp—and it includes DMT as one potential compound. 

This is something that we'll start to see more and more of, according to Casimir—psychedelics being folded into applications. “You tend to see this anytime someone has a successful product with something in the nutraceutical space,” he said. “You see a pile-on effect shortly thereafter—where everyone either speculates wildly and files patents on it, or collects some data to demonstrate it. I would expect as this topic gets more and more popular, which is not taking very long to happen, just about anything you could ever think of will be tried. And if it works, it'll be in the patent application. And sometimes even if it doesn't, it'll be in a patent application.”

Outside of concerns about cost, access, and monopoly, some feel that some of the latest patent applications contradict the focuses of academic psychedelic research. As Psymposia senior writer Russell Hausfeld tweeted, “Funny. One of the biggest issues people are hoping psychedelics will help with is addiction. Meanwhile, Philip Morris is patenting DMT pens.” The multiple pending patent applications for weight loss are filed at the same time that Johns Hopkins is conducting research on the use of psychedelics for anorexia nervosa. 

In a recent article in Double Blind, lawyer Nicole Howell, who litigates in the cannabis market, argued that there are important lessons psychedelics can learn from marijunana. “In cannabis, we’ve seen an unhealthy relationship with profit and investment that has created consolidation of the market, perverse incentives, and is slowly driving the lovers and believers out of the game only to be replaced by traditional business fundamentals of 'scale'” 'ROI' and ‘exit strategies,’” she wrote.

Psychedelic researcher Matt Baggott suggested one intriguing path forward: “We should also create the equivalent of creative commons psychedelic pharmacotherapy licenses. This would give rise to a coalition of organizations sharing IP that could outcompete the monopolists.” 

These patent growing pains will only increase in the coming years. And the culture around psychedelics particularly sets the field up for an ethical clash with how businesses normally go about profiting and making money from compounds. Howell wrote that “with psychedelics as our guide and teacher, we can and must challenge the false idol of cash as the prize and replace it with the notion that capital is the servant, catalyst, and partner to the ultimate reality that psychedelics reveal: We are one. This is the veil that is lifted when we tune in. This is the Great Perspective Shift psychedelics can offer.” 

We've rarely seen this kind of language deployed when discussing pharmaceutical IP. Clearly psychedelics and patent law represent a confrontation of differing values that may take awhile to figure out how to co-exist. 

Follow Shayla Love on Twitter.

The Race to Patent Psychedelics Is Just Getting Started syndicated from https://triviaqaweb.wordpress.com/feed/

[hrodlandpjqr247-blog]

Leitfaden der Besten Call of Duty: Modern Warfare

Game Review Call of Duty: MW

Modern Warfare may not have the best battle in the background in the Call of Duty series, but it certainly program the inn high for all subsequent shooters about fighting. Sets this quite, high.

Let's choose a surprise: is the new Modern Warfare the best Call of Duty to date? So, yes and no. In terms of sound and film, that is absolutely the best installment in this line, hands behind. The multiplayer is interesting with different; the fight offers great surroundings and isn't scared of desperate scenes, thus being an interesting picture of the modern armed conflict – without having a classified battlefield, where the divisions on the expert and dangerous person are a bit indistinguishable. The march can be much slower than in a of the earlier installments. The architects from Infinity Ward oftentimes rehearse familiar patters we've met during past parts, and – while they make – reference movie blockbusters, sometimes recreating scenes one-to-one. And although the multiplayer is extremely engaging, then the song campaign brings numerous memorable moments, complete, this game comes a modest short of live the undisputed best in the CoD series.

Maybe that because of the hype – maybe I just thought too much, or even the devs made too many promises that were too big. Because complete the drive seems really good. Compared both to before CoDs, and games from Ubisoft or EA, this chapter reaches levels mastery that's unattainable for them. But it falls little, too – not merely because of the expectations, but when compared to the original. The first MW was far more coherent and whole. That game, on the other hand, feels like writing a film screening half road done it, and go right before the finale. As concerns the multiplayer, however, the giant promises were not empty, although many factors will have to be much refined. All that media sound with expects regarding a 10/10 game away, we grow one of the best and most daring shooters of recent years.

Slow authenticity, like now Michael Bay's

MW, as a computer, certainly goes up to the call. This is a modern warfare in all respects – with terrorist incidents in world assets and full-scale armed actions where in the populations on the Inner East. Sometimes, we do special operations in full products, and sometimes chain into civilian clothes around the lanes of crowded metropolis. Playing three different personalities, all of which are reminiscent of the one and only Captain Price, we beat locations in search of stolen goods with really dangerous gas. The screenplay may not be outstanding, but it makes effective use of authentic incidents during recent background and associations them with atmosphere and points gotten by productions such like Jack Ryan from Amazon Prime.

It is also big that, past repeated assessments with the extent with the earlier games to films in Jordan Bay, this time, Modern Warfare actually recreated scenes from the production on the famous director. We will never see, however, falling skyscrapers or a raid among burning aircraft carriers. That all other restrained, more credible and low-key; the game, for example, let's us be involved in function familiar in the show 13 Times: The Technique Knight of Benghazi. The devs weren't scared to also make missions by which we walk at a snail's pace, entrance to access, firing a few bullets, clearing rooms just like in tactical shooters the like of Range Six games. Very dangerous these moments are little with significantly between, because the strain and solid atmosphere literally pours out of the screen. They're very evocative of games like HIT or R6.

Charge, you heartless bastard

Modern Warfare became notorious even before the release, with the headline of unsettling missions similar to the infamous "No Russian" opening of MW2. Did it work out? Overall – yes, but not by every overlook. The devs didn't go right; we don't shoot civilians or children, for example. If we do this, we'll have to reload on the past checkpoint. There are a several times in which we pull among a frenzied crowd, bullets whizzing in in random, and then, collateral damage isn't punishable. But the idea definitely not a "grey war," in which telling friend from foe may not be evident.

So while such legs are reported from the game, yet really temporarily, here a couple missions based on the book Operation Geronimo plus the motion picture Zero Dark Thirty, that show the famous raid for Bin Laden's headquarters (he remained the leader of Al-Queida). Then, you really could know just what to expect behind the next door. We walk alone overcome a slim corridor, a baby whimpering in one in the places. We pry open the door with power – in, a woman throws herself with a base. To grab a gun, or to protect her son? You have to influence in a split-second. Into such moments, the new Call of Duty sweeps away all FPS competition. That worth playing the game still regarding these moments.

To top it away, the creator have portrayed Russians being fully extreme and ruthless oppressors. Russian knight into MW shoot unarmed civilians with kids, relocate women so to "terrorists could breed," torture prisoners, and hurt entire the people with chemical weapons. Some respite is proposed with the fact the good guys live to moral, too. If that's precisely what the quest requires, still the most positive characters will become merciless. There are no saints in the planet illustrated by MW. Counter to the backdrop of ubiquitous political truth in games with beyond, the new Call of Duty boldly beats the pattern.

A barely with the aged, a small from the different

Alright, and how can the new CoD feel like a game? Very traditional, about the one offer, next for the other – a trivial different. It is yet a vibrant action game – full of scripts and absolutely cinematic moments. The character is a little slower, you can feel their mass more, with the development seems more authentic overall. The new film model works out good – in this respect, this Call of Duty brings quality that's expert to everything the series offered so far. Proving the sticks with factors in the location is both useful and handy, with the new start and reloading animations are realistic. Each projectile has large power, but it can be thought only if the authors want it, as from the work, this not possible to move the combustion means at will. Which is a bit baffling.

The creators and presented sure were constantly make something different, something fresh. One minute we're shooting, then we're carrying bricks. Veterans of MW will of course be told of many times by earlier installments, given that we might find many situations in which situation some cult Spiele Kostenlos Downloaden missions of the trilogy. The new engine delivers, but typically in smaller spots where everything's reach us. The structures are realistic, so is the elegant and how much details of characters, items, and constituents of nature. Anything further out looks a little away, and also the surroundings makes average impression – at least with PlayStation 4. Can't complain about audio, even if! A volley of loud shots, separate sounds for each falling casing and other noises, or even radio dispatches during firefights make a great amazing experience.

The devil's in the depths

So, when the new Modern Warfare looks good, looks good, is deep, authentic and feels great, then why is this not the best battle in the description in the lines? First of all, you can take make with just how the feature is raised. The founders are much more committed to about different missions than for the general perspective with the total plot. From the initial minutes, we're caught in the middle of many events, all characters seem to see everything on one another, with we realize mere rows of facts – as if that's not enough, the goal credits appear in the most exciting time. We do not know about any details about the two primary characters that we control: Alex and Kyle, so we do not have a chance of formulating our own opinion around them. The one exception this is the third playable character – Farah – she's really well-written and kind.

Pretty much all that's great in MW doesn't last – e.g. the other tactical levels, or around moments referencing the big installments. The makers seem afraid which players can develop bored after more than fifteen moments of the same action, which leads to a very quick campaign, going on almost several, six hours. You can and see a certain indolence of the writers, which is pretty difficult to help reveal, especially after they boasted attention to order and accuracy on their blog. For some reason, for example, some assets were reused from the crime setting – missions taking place two decades before feature modern vehicles, and the European are helping American helicopters. It might be a trifle, but following such bragging, it was shock to imagine.

Mutliplayer? Highly compelling

But we've come to expect the battles from any Call of Duty game to be passing and powerful – let's think of, the permit is typically about the multiplayer, which is playable as hell in this case. You can definitely spend countless times here – the gameplay's riveting, there's a ton of features to do with unlock, and there are the publications of contemporary, free (sic!) content yet to come. I, for one, have in fact become looking forward to returning to modern battlefields, embodied as the clash between AK-47 vs. M4A1. There's of course several chief with adolescent issues here and there, but the multitude of kinds of functions, and the number of players, make it easy to avoid something to you don't particularly like in the MP. There's really bunches of matter!

What deserves the most praise in my position is the direction the multiplayer feels – the gunplay is delicate, and the weapons are the primary actors, rather than gadgets or about very abilities. Running away from Tarkov is probably the only game out here deal more customization options than the Armory now. You can try a basic M4A1 or AK-47 in virtually everything – from a machine gun, through a sniper rife, from a system to a CQB to an LMG, not to mention lots of different guns. Sporting your favorite tools, you commit hours on end going around the roads with persons from around the world. More highly, all the novelties regarding the mechanics, such while helping systems with facets on the situation, reloading, aiming, then the many different ways to start homes are incredibly intuitive. Each of these clicks instantly, once you learn how to do it. They easily become second life – like a compulsive reload when all rushed. The icing on the cake is the realistic recoil of tools, plus the stunning audio design.

4 is proficiency and approaches, 64 is a good mess

The effects from the multiplayer will, still, rely on the preferred map, type, and the number of participants. The business into Battlefield property, with 64 players plus vehicles didn't exactly become the great. Ground war is a clutter along with a good arena for humiliating newbies (see figure). The less players with small the record, the enhanced the experience. Currently, probably only one place, the channel on the Euphrates, goes on the traditions of maps with a few principal movement corridors. The rest provide much more risks, and all of them, aside from the sterile and seemingly unfinished Piccadilly in Birmingham, are rich in facts with just about palpable dirt and disposition of a field.

The most balanced games in the novel CoD are probably 10v10 battles in a little larger maps. They're dynamic adequate, and handle to give you adequate count next liberty to make decisions at the same time. There's less senseless stretch and waiting for participants to resist the line of shot, and more technique and surveillance, specifically in the means to demand strike or defending specific areas. And if you want to completely avoid chaos altogether, you can always focus on strictly skill-oriented 2v2 shootouts. There, you always tell where the enemy can come through, also the way many there are. It's somewhat intense, along with the wars is certainly here, so that best approached with a trusted comrade. The personal preference was the hugely immersive mode without the HUD, with night maps. Gameplay is definitely slower also the atmosphere's thicker.

What worries me a bit is that part of the game is governed by constant changes. I search the surroundings of the realistic firefight, yet I can already see neon-colored weapon skins appear. The decision is obviously daft from the sound standpoint – bear a skin like that is like shouting "I'm here! Happened along with capture us!" but it appears this is an inseparable element of modern shooters. The implementation of micropayments remains the honest question. You can unlock skins and add-ons by completing game challenges, but the look at which provides more features is only presented in the paid group. We truly trust the builders will assist their own game on the coming year sensibly, paying focus on what products also what exactly makes.

Tom Clancy's Modern Warfare

Regardless these few flaws with these Modern Warfare seems a game from a different world adjacent to the surroundings of Battlefield V, Breakpoint, Stress, or The Class. The multiplayer tells me of adult games, such as Battlefield 2 and 3, or Award of Respect 2010. War isn't romanticized from the struggle, the atrocities and uncomfortable, morally unclear situations are bread with butter here. This is a game to completely has the courage to be mature. It adjusts the tablet high for all subsequent war productions – including the upcoming Black Ops and other concepts in the CoD franchise. That is truly exactly how I thought games signed with Tom Clancy's name – and it originated the cause wing. Call of Duty is again at the top, and is now the best sole and network shooter on the market.

[itsfinancethings]

(DELRAY BEACH, Fla.) — As unrest spread across dozens of American cities on Friday, the Pentagon took the rare step of ordering the Army to put several active-duty U.S. military police units on the ready to deploy to Minneapolis, where the police killing of George Floyd sparked the widespread protests.

Soldiers from Fort Bragg in North Carolina and Fort Drum in New York have been ordered to be ready to deploy within four hours if called, according to three people with direct knowledge of the orders. Soldiers in Fort Carson, in Colorado, and Fort Riley in Kansas have been told to be ready within 24 hours. The people did not want their names used because they were not authorized to discuss the preparations.

The get-ready orders were sent verbally on Friday, after President Donald Trump asked Defense Secretary Mark Esper for military options to help quell the unrest in Minneapolis after protests descended into looting and arson in some parts of the city.

Trump made the request on a phone call from the Oval Office on Thursday night that included Esper, National Security Advisor Robert O’ Brien and several others. The president asked Esper for rapid deployment options if the Minneapolis protests continued to spiral out of control, according to one of the people, a senior Pentagon official who was on the call.

”When the White House asks for options, someone opens the drawer and pulls them out so to speak.” the official said.

The person said the military units would be deployed under the Insurrection Act of 1807, which was last used in 1992 during the riots in Los Angeles that followed the Rodney King trial.

“If this is where the president is headed response-wise, it would represent a significant escalation and a determination that the various state and local authorities are not up to the task of responding to the growing unrest,” said Brad Moss, a Washington D.C.-based attorney, who specializes in national security.

Members of the police units were on a 30-minute recall alert early Saturday, meaning they would have to return to their bases inside that time limit in preparation for deployment to Minneapolis inside of four hours. Units at Fort Drum are slated to head to Minneapolis first, according to the three people, including two Defense Department officials. Roughly 800 U.S. soldiers would deploy to the city if called.

Protests erupted in Minneapolis this week after video emerged showing a police officer kneeling on Floyd’s neck. Floyd later died of his injuries and the officer, Derek Chauvin, was arrested and charged with third-degree murder and manslaughter on Friday.

The protests turned violent and on Thursday rioters torched the Minneapolis Third Police Precinct near where Floyd was arrested. Mayor Jacob Frey ordered a citywide curfew at 8 p.m. local time, beginning on Friday. In that city, peaceful protests picked up steam as darkness fell, with thousands of people ignoring the curfew to walk streets in the southern part of the city. Some cars were set on fire in scattered neighborhoods, business break-ins began and eventually there were larger fires.

The unrest has since spread across the country, with protests, some violent, erupting in cities including Washington DC, Atlanta, Phoenix, Denver and Los Angelas.

Minnesota Governor Tim Walz ordered 500 of his National Guard troops into Minneapolis, St. Paul, and surrounding communities.

But a Pentagon spokesman said Walz did not ask for the Army to be deployed to his state.

“The Department has been in touch with the Governor and there is no request for Title 10 forces to support the Minnesota National Guard or state law enforcement,” the spokesman said, Title 10 is the U.S. law that governs the armed forces, and would authorize active duty military to operate within the U.S.

Alyssa Farah, the White House director of strategic communications, said the deployment of active-duty military police is untrue.

“False: off the record – title 10 not under discussion,” said Farah in an email response. No off-record agreement was negotiated with The Associated Press.

The 16th Military Police Brigade forwarded the AP’s questions to the Defense Department.

The three officials with direct knowledge of the potential deployment say the orders are on a classified system, known as the Secret Internet Protocol Router or SIPR for short.

Active-duty forces are normally prohibited from acting as a domestic law enforcement agency. But the Insurrection Act offers an exception.

The Act would allow the military to take up a policing authority it otherwise would not be allowed to do, enforcing state and federal laws, said Stephen Vladeck, a University of Texas School of Law professor who specializes in constitutional and national security law.

The statute “is deliberately vague” when it comes to the instances in which the Insurrection Act could be used, he said. The state’s governor could ask President Donald Trump to take action or Trump could act on his own authority if he’s determined that the local authorities are so overwhelmed that they can’t adequately enforce the law, Vladeck said.

“It is a very, very broad grant of authority for the president,” he added.

——

Associated Press reporters Lolita Baldor, Michael Balsamo, and Zeke Miller contributed to this story.

[trunewsofficial]

Cancelation of Pence Trip to New Hampshire Shrouded in Secrecy

This morning—just as news was breaking about a fire on a Russian submarine that killed 14—it was announced that Vice President Mike Pence had abruptly canceled his plans for the day. The vice president was originally scheduled to travel to New Hampshire to take part in a planned opioid crisis event at a recovery center. Approximately 200 people had arrived for the event in Salem. Air Force 2 was slated to land in Manchester at 11:25 a.m., but according to White House officials it never took off from Joint Base Andrews. Instead, the vice president was recalled to the White House, where he met “briefly” with the president. Originally, the change of plans was attributed to an undisclosed “emergency.” But then the vice president’s spokeswoman, Alyssa Farah, told reporters it wasn’t an emergency, but rather a “situation” that required a “diversion.” Immediately, the mainstream media began running in overdrive with speculation about what could be happening. Has the president fallen ill? Are we going to war with Iran? Is it Syria? Are we closer to World War III than we ever imagined? Eventually, a senior administration official told reporters the change had nothing to do with the health of either the president or vice president. Then, the vice president’s spokeswoman added that the diversion had nothing to do with any national security matter: “Something came up that required the vice president to remain in Washington, D.C. It’s no cause for alarm. He looks forward to rescheduling the trip to New Hampshire very soon.” Not long thereafter, news reports emerged of an active shooter situation at the Pease Air National Guard Base in Portsmouth, N.H., about 40 miles east of Manchester. While the facility and it being on lockdown had no impact on the cancelation of the vice president’s event, it certainly added significant intrigue to what was already a bizarre situation. Six hours into the media circus surrounding the matter—and the rest of the world’s geopolitical news slate—White House reporters were still demanding answers from the vice president’s chief of staff, Marc Short. One reporter’s account of that exchange: Press: “Can you tell us what happened? Why cancel the New Hampshire trip?” Short: “There will be more later.” Press: “When later?” Short: “Weeks from now.” It’s entirely possible Short’s response was just cheekiness given the breathless reporting the situation has received from the mainstream media. If not, that would seem to add yet another layer of intrigue—and endless possibilities. One of which was floated earlier this week by TruNews: President Trump intends to pick a different running mate for 2020. And while much of the speculation has surrounded former UN Ambassador Nikki Haley, TruNews has previously reported that FOX News Channel host Tucker Carlson might also be a contender for the job. And now The Spectator’s Washington Editor Curt Mills is reporting his sources say there’s a high likelihood the president is ready to pull the trigger on just such a change. In an article published Monday, he wrote: “First, Tucker gets Trump. The duo have personal chemistry far exceeding the rapport that Pence or Haley enjoy. Haley bitterly opposed Trump during the 2016 primary and a former senior administration official has long informed me that her hiring during the transition was a ‘keep your enemies closer’ affair. In Carlson, Trump would get to anoint an heir apparent he actually likes. “Second, Tucker gets Trumpism, and Trumpism gets Tucker. He is eminence grise of a new intellectual right befitting the Trump era, and appeals to people who have started to become disgruntled in President Trump. “It’s been speculated before that Carlson might enter a 2024 race, but Trump might want to bring him into his fold sooner than that. Trump often complains of ideological clashes with his own officials. That’s partly why he already relies on a shadow cabinet, anchored by Carlson, as proved by last week’s called-off strikes on Iran. “A Vice President Carlson could lay low, moreover, and empower a new generation of Trumpist conservatives from the Naval Observatory. Trump in his first term has had to appoint Bush-era officials who have no idea what drives Trump’s movement. Carlson knows Trumpworld far better. “If Tucker jumped into the 2024 race, as has been widely discussed, excitement among the activist class would be barely containable. If he jumped into 2020, excitement would boil over. “Third, it would work. As evidenced by his conquering of Bill O’Reilly’s time slot on Fox, Carlson is a fearsome debater and fearless operator. Far from being ‘just a talk show host,’ as he often says of himself, Carlson is becoming a political force.” In the meantime, the speculation will continue to spin until the media are sufficiently assured they have the facts. The question now is: Will they like the answers they get? (Photo Credit: The White House) source https://trunews.com/stream/cancelation-of-pence-trip-to-new-hampshire-shrouded-in-secrecy

[theconservativebrief]

On Monday, Jerome Corsi, a birther conspiracy theorist and occasional conservative pundit, announced that he had refused a plea deal from special counsel Robert Mueller. “They can put me in prison the rest of my life. I am not going to sign a lie,” he said to CNN, explaining he’d been offered a deal on a single count of perjury.

And now it appears that Corsi shares a joint defense agreement with the president, a relatively common agreement in criminal cases that would allow Corsi to share information about the case with Donald Trump.

Over the past two decades, Corsi has been deeply enmeshed in the conspiratorial wing of the far-right — from John Kerry’s military service to President Barack Obama’s birth certificate to QAnon, the conspiracy theory that says Mueller and Trump are secretly working together to expose pedophiles nationwide.

But now, his all-too-real associations with right-leaning figures, most notably former Trump advisor Roger Stone and even Trump himself, could land the conspiracy-weaving author in federal prison.

What, exactly, does Mueller want from a fringe conspiracy theorist? It turns out quite a bit.

Corsi, it seems, might have had inside information on the hacking and leak of Hillary Clinton campaign chair John Podesta’s emails. And Corsi may have shared that information longtime Trump adviser Roger Stone.

In August 2016 it seems that Corsi was aware that WikiLeaks had Podesta’s emails. That was more than a month before the news became public, when WikiLeaks began posting those emails in early October. And Corsi now says he talked about the topic to Stone, who Mueller’s investigation has intensely focused on for months.

As a result, Corsi has come under Mueller’s scrutiny, as the special counsel tries to track precisely how the stolen emails made their way to WikiLeaks, and whether any Trump associates like Stone were involved in or informed about the operation.

Corsi has known Stone for several years, and in 2016, the two were both commentators at Infowars. They were in frequent contact during that time — about WikiLeaks and Podesta, specifically.

The full extent of what happened back in summer 2016 between Corsi and Stone isn’t yet clear. But various tidbits have leaked out suggesting Mueller believes the pair had some inside information about the Podesta emails and WikiLeaks.

Corsi has claimed that his foreknowledge that Podesta’s emails would be the next leaked by WikiLeaks was an “educated guess,” telling One America News Network, “In August, I knew that the emails remaining — that Julian Assange had — were Podesta’s emails. I basically figured it out, which is what I do.”

Yet he has not really given a clear explanation of how he could have guessed this. And a draft document written by Mueller’s team for a potential plea deal with Corsi — leaked by Corsi himself on Tuesday — cites apparent evidence suggesting Corsi did have inside knowledge.

On July 25, 2016, Stone emailed Corsi, telling him to “get to” Assange in the “Ecuadorian Embassy in London and get the pending” WikiLeaks “emails.”

Corsi forwarded this email to an “overseas individual.” Reportedly, this is Ted Malloch, a UK-based Trump supporter and author.

On July 31, 2016, Stone wrote to Corsi that Malloch “should see” Assange.

On August 2, 2016, Corsi emailed Stone claiming knowledge of Assange’s plans. “Word is friend in embassy plans 2 more dumps. One shortly after I’m back [from a trip in Europe]. 2nd in Oct. Impact planned to be very damaging..” Corsi continued: “Would not hurt to start suggesting HRC old, memory bad, has stroke — neither he nor she well. I expect that much of next dump focus, setting stage for [Clinton] Foundation debacle.”

Stone has denied having any inside information on WikiLeaks’s plans. But on August 21, 2016, he sent a curious tweet. “Trust me, it will soon [be] the Podesta’s time in the barrel.”

Since then, Stone has insisted that there was an innocent explanation. He’s said that the tweet referred to opposition research that Corsi was doing for him, into the Podesta brothers’ business dealings. He testified as much to the House Intelligence Committee last year, saying the tweet was partly “based on a comprehensive, early August opposition research briefing provided to me by investigative journalist, Dr. Jerome Corsi.”

But now, Corsi writes in a forthcoming book (called Silent No More: How I Became a Political Prisoner of Mueller’s ‘Witch Hunt,’ and obtained by the Daily Caller’s Chuck Ross) that this was “not true,” and merely a “cover story” that he and Stone created together. He said that Stone called him asking for his help in creating an excuse for the suspicious tweet. So, he writes, “I suggested Stone could use me as an excuse.” (Stone denied this to the Daily Caller.)

Corsi also makes another eyebrow-raising claim in his new book, per Ross — that Stone wanted him to get a message to Assange about how WikiLeaks should time its release of the Podesta emails. He claims Stone knew a damaging story about Trump would soon be published — the Access Hollywood tape story, in which Trump bragged about groping women. So, Corsi says, Stone wanted Assange to delay the release until after this story was out to distract from it. (Stone denies this too.)

Before 2004, Corsi worked in financial services, including a failed investment venture in Poland he convinced 20 people to take part in back in 1995, ultimately costing them roughly $1.2 million and resulting in a court judgment against Corsi. But in 2004, Corsi co-authored the “Swift Boat Veterans for Truth” political group’s book Unfit for Command.

The book tried to cast doubt on Democratic nominee John Kerry’s Vietnam War service (whom Corsi referred to on an internet message board as “Commie Kerry”), arguing, for instance, that his supposed heroism in various incidents where he was wounded or awarded medals was exaggerated. The book’s lead author, John O’Neill, was a Swift Boat veteran, but Corsi was not. (He was “medically disqualified” for “hereditary eczema,” he later said.) His contribution to the book was to attack Kerry’s antiwar activism after he returned to the United States.

The Swift Boat claims garnered enormous attention and controversy, and many were rebutted as false — but the damage was done. In a New York Times review of the book in 2004, Susannah Meadows wrote, “If John Kerry loses the presidential election, ‘’Unfit for Command,’’ by John E. O’Neill and Jerome R. Corsi, will go down as a chief reason.”

But Corsi got some unwanted attention too, particularly when his history of bigoted posts on the conservative Free Republic message board became known. One of those postings read, “Anybody ask why HELLary couldn’t keep BJ Bill satisfied? Not lesbo or anything, is she?” Another read, “Isn’t the Democratic Party the official SODOMIZER PROTECTION ASSOCIATION of AMERICA–oh, I forgot, it was just an accident that Clintoon’s [sic] first act in office was to promote ‘gays in the military.’ RAGHEADS are Boy-Bumpers as clearly as they are Women-Haters–it all goes together.”

But the Swift Boat book earned him a columnist gig at the fringe conservative site WorldNetDaily, which he held for more than a decade, giving him wide access to the conspiratorial wing of the right. Founded in 1997 by Joseph Farah (who promised to give $15,000 to the hospital where President Obama was born if he released his long-form birth certificate and then reneged on his promise once Obama did in fact release his birth certificate) WorldNetDaily, or WND, is a thoroughfare to the conspiratorial wing of the right.

Since 2004, Corsi has pushed conspiracy theories about George W. Bush wanting to unite the US and Mexico under one government (an argument that 2008 presidential candidate Ron Paul embraced wholeheartedly), about a group tied to al Qaeda financing John McCain’s presidential campaign, and about Hitler secretly having survived the fall of Nazi Germany.

And while he was a frequent guest on Fox News and conservative talk radio shows, other conservative pundits considered Corsi “from the fringe” and one of the most “annoying people on the right.” All the while, Corsi championed the cause of impeaching George W. Bush (whom he believed was “post-America and post-God”) and wrote in 2007 that he was not a Republican because the GOP had been overtaken by the “Rockefeller wing” and wasn’t doing enough to prevent a North American Union — again, a conspiracy theory. Not to mention Corsi’s endorsement of 9/11 conspiracy theories that argued the World Trade Center was brought down by explosives planted inside the building.

But he really hit pay dirt in fulfilling a market demand on the conspiratorial right for made-up nonsense about Obama. Corsi claimed at various points that Obama was secretly gay and secretly Muslim, but where he really got a response was in claiming Obama may not have truly been born in the United States — which he did as far back as August 2008.

He then became one of the leading “birther” conspiracy theorists — alongside Farah of WorldNetDaily, which funded billboards in several cities asking “Where’s the birth certificate?” back in 2009 — something that in 2011 earned him a personal phone call from Trump.

In early 2017, Corsi ended his long association with WorldNetDaily and moved over to work for the even fringier website Infowars, headed by Alex Jones. At some point in 2018 he left Infowars and has since streamed his own web show while joining other conspiracy theorists on YouTube to posit, for example, that the late Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia was perhaps murdered at a “pedophile ranch” by a 13-year-old boy.

This year, he promoted the QAnon pro-Trump conspiracy theory — even saying at a meeting of conspiracy theorists that he was told back in 2015 a “group of generals” had been planning a coup against Obama but instead decided to support Trump and that QAnon were military intelligence officials rooting out the “deep state.” (He’s since said he no longer believes in QAnon, tweeting on Sunday, “Qanon is NOt my God.”)

What’s at the other end of this thicket of conflicting claims remains unclear. But what’s next for Corsi seems clearer. On Tuesday, he leaked the draft plea deal document Mueller’s team wrote for him, which says he’ll be charged for lying to investigators about his WikiLeaks-related contacts with Stone. Corsi has said he’ll reject the deal. So the likely next step is that he’ll be indicted.

Jerome Corsi’s post-2004 career has relied almost exclusively on the conspiratorial right offering him book deals and some measure of fame. But now, that same faction might prove to be his legal undoing.

Original Source -> Jerome Corsi, the conspiracy theorist now entangled in the Mueller investigation, explained

via The Conservative Brief