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mutant-okuri-inu · 2 days ago

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Call Of Duty Modern Warframe II - Howling and Hollow

Chapter 2: El Sin Nombre

Sigma is still seething.

Capturing Hassan, grilling him for information about the missiles, then just... letting him go? It was insanity. And meeting Shepherd for the first time? Something about him had set her instincts on edge. His stare — cold, unwavering — made her skin crawl. She didn't like it. Didn't trust it.

Now, she’s sitting on a crate inside the safehouse, her gear stripped off, methodically sharpening her combat knife. The rhythmic scrape of metal against stone was the only sound in the quiet. She was exhausted, but rest wouldn’t come. Her mind wouldn't shut up — replaying Shepherd’s words again and again in her brain.

Frustrated, she sheathed the knife and stood up, her boots make the creaking sounds on the floorboards as she went outside. The air outside was cooler, clean,

the wind whispered through the trees. Stillness. Peaceful, but not comforting.

Leaning on the porch rail, forearms rests on top of it, she looked out across the dense bush.

Oh Las Almas… The City of Souls. Only been in Mexico a few times when on Spring break while she still went to high school.

She heard footsteps behind her, the wood creaking under heavy boots. She didn’t turn. It could’ve been Graves, or Ghost, maybe Alejandro. But instead, someone stepped up beside her.

"I figured I'd find you here," said the familiar Scottish voice.

Sigma glanced over her shoulder. "You should be resting."

Soap gave a half-shrug, approached beside her, his gears are off. "Could say the same about you."

"I'm not tired." She rubbed the back of her neck. "Too much going on upstairs."

He nodded slowly. "Shepherd really screwed the pooch, letting that bastard go."

Sigma scoffed. "Graves wasted his breath interrogating Hassan. Did nothing. This whole op feels like a bad joke."

"Aye. We stopped one disaster, sure. But it shouldn't have come to this. I’m dissapointed too."

They stood in silence, side by side, watching the wind stir the trees Halia’s arms are crossed as her arms rests on porch trail, same as Soap’s exact posotion. No pressure to talk. Just quiet. Comfortable.

Then Soap broke it. "Sigma, right? I only know your callsign. Mind if I ask your real name?"

She hesitated a moment. "Halia Connors."

"Halia..." he repeated softly, then, without thinking — "Pretty."

She blinked, raising an eyebrow. "Hmm?"

Soap straightened up, clearing his throat awkwardly. "I mean — your name. It’s, uh, pretty."

Her cheeks warmed. She looked away, smiling faintly. "Thanks. Ghost called you Johnny, right? Johnny MacTavish, I presume?"

"Right in one," he said with a nod.

She chuckled. "That startled me. Didn't expect Ghost to use first names. That thing almost scared me to death by his mask.” That comment made almost Soap chuckle under his breath.

But then her smile faded. Her eyes lost focus. A distant look crept in. The wind was still there, but something else rushed in — gunshots, screaming, her mother’s voice panicking, her father's yelling, nightmare—

No. Not now.

She sucked in a breath and shook her head sharply. Soap turned his head, concern flickering in his eyes. "You alright?"

She didn’t meet his gaze. "Just a little... messed up. Old ghosts, memories, you know?"

"Yeah," he said softly. "Know that feeling. But you’re real quiet, althought you had a lot of nerve back there."

“I’m not broody.” She shakes her head a bit. “We let Hassan go, now we’re crawling back in the shadows.”

Soap’s body lowers a bit, tilting his head while looking at Sigma. “But shadows are where we do our work.”

Her eyes met his. “Are you always that optimistic?”

“Only when I’ve got backup I trust.”

The silence returned, this time heavier — not awkward, but honest. Over the next few minutes, they talked. Not about missions or orders. About where they came from. Who they were before all this. She didn’t mention her parents. Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

Keeping this as a secret, killed in such a disaster in front of little girl’s eyes. Then the door creaked open behind them. They turned their heads over their shoulders, Alejandro stepped out with serious look on his face.

"Gear up," he said. "We’re moving out."

---

"La case de El Sin Nombre?" Soap asks, looking through the binoculars right at El Sin Nombre expensive mansion. The five of them are positioned on a rooftop, eyes fixed on their target.

"No. One of his Lagartenientes." Alejandro replies, standing beside Soap.

Sigma knew they're going after El Sin Nombre. Alejandro was right, not everyone can't find him, but he's everywhere. This night, cloaked in dark blue, might be their only chance to get close.

"A Cartel Lieutenant." Soap says, handing the binoculars to Graves.

"Nice, brother. You're learning." Alejandro speaks in Spanish. "My sources tell me all the VIPs in Las Almas will be there tonight. Some are invited, others are, umm..."

"Voluntereed? Or other way saying volun-told?" Sigma speaks, resting her hands on her vest, standing beside Graves.

"Yes." Alejandro nods.

"What's the meet about?" Graves asks, after looking at expensive mansion, looking at Alejandro.

"Us." He answers. "Las Almas is burning, and they want to know who lit the fire."

“Guess they’re gonna crash a real fucking party…” Sigma mutters under her breath.

"Sin Nombre will be there, yeah?" Ghost tilts his head a bit.

"No guarantees but this is out best shot." Alejandro said, turning to Ghost. Soap, Graves and Sigma inch closer, preparing to formulate a plan.

"Then we take it. I got enough Shadows here to take over the damn country." Graves protests. Sigma blinks, taken aback by his comment.

Sigma blinks, caught off guard. "Graves-"

"I'd prefer I'd you didn't." Alejandro cuts in, clearly not bond by the Grave's words.

"I'm just sayin'..." Graves grins a bit. "One house, shouldn't be a problem."

"We need Sin Nombre alive." Ghost says harshly as Sigma nods by the agreement.

"Well..." Graves gazes to the horizon of the mansion, slightly nodding, tightening his jaw. "Then we need to meet him."

"How?" Soap looking at him with questioning look.

"Give em' what they want... Intel. They wanna know who's here. Let's tell 'em."

"In person-?" Alejandro furrows his eyebrows, looking at him with skeptical look.

"What about sneaking in? Stealth. Fewer eyes." Sigma thinks of an idea by sneaking in by stealth.

"No, hermosa, the guards are everywhere. And in that outfit? You’ll get made in second." Alejandro looks at her. He is right, she almost dressed light camo shirt.

"Alejandro is right, in person. All we need to get one of us inside, find the boss..." Graves presses his fist against his palm. "Roll him up."

Soap's head hangs low, listening to Graves words. Then raises his head a bit to take the chance. "I'll do it."

Sigma's head jolts and her expression turns in shock as he says that. If he does this, they'll kill him and it'll be over for him. “Wait, you want to there and give intel to El Sin Nombre? Soap, that’s suicide.”

"She’s right, you go in there, and they'll kill you, hermano." Alejandro speaks softly with almost worried tone.

"I'll take my chances." Soap’s eyes meet Alejandro’s ones. "We came here to stop the missile, let's stop it. I'll offer the Intel for a meet with Sin Nombre. And if he's there, we pounce."

"Hell yeah- you've got balls, you son of a bitch. You make it in you'll need eyes and ears. I'll go too." Alejandro pressures while his head tilts to Soap, he nods slightly.

"I'll take overwatch. Shadows and Sigma circles the target in a helo." Ghost unfolds the plan. Sigma has no choice, no room to argue, so she agrees.

"Yes, sirrr..." Sigma sighs, almost frustrated by the plan.

Graves nods, hands on his hips. "Roger that." Graves looks at Soap, he takes off something from his carrier place. "They are going to want proof..." He hands Soap the patch, Shadow Company's insignia. "Show 'em this."

Soap takes it and studies the insignia. He fistbumps Graves and he pats Soap's shoulder. "Call us when you need us. Alright, let's gear up and get after it." Graves spoke outloud as they walk away, beggining their objective. Each step taking them closer to the lion’s den.

---

Capturing El Sin Nombre was nearly an impossible task for Soap, especially after the brutal interrogation he endured, telling the full truth. Luckily, Alejandro encountered with no problem. To his surprise, the elusive Cartel leader turned out to be a woman—Valeria, someone Alejandro knew too well. As Sigma piloted the helicopter, she caught the sharp intensity in his gaze. He was furious—angry, seething even…

The container is lit only by the only one lightbulb overhead center. Both Colonel and Commander drags Valeria to the metal chair to sit down.

"Have a seat." Graves urges Valeria to sit down as she does so.

"Alright, how do you two know each other?" He asks, fingers are gesturing between Valeria and Alejandro.

"Know is a strong word." Alejandro states, clearly annoyed. His back is facing away from the woman.

“Strong words are important, our word is a worth, right?” Valeria speaks in Spanish to Alejandro with a question look on her face. He turns with a pissed look.

��Go to hell you fucking sunavabitch-- I’m going to kill you!” His angry voice pounce inside the metalatic walls of a container as he stomps to Valeria. Sigma wanted to stop him, but quickly, Soap and Rudy grabs him to stop him, Valeria made no reaction, didn’t inch a muscle by his outburst.

“Alejandro!” Soap holds him by his shoulder as Rudy tries to calm him down. “Calmate, Commander!”

“Yeah?! Yeah?!” Alejandro releases from their grips, exhaling a breath out of his nose as he takes a few steps back. Forcing himself to settle, he turned to face the woman once more, hooking his fingers on his vest straps.

“Go on.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Tell them.”

“I don’t take orders anymore.” Valeria looks at Alejandro, then her tone sneers. “Even the dogs in Las Almas know not to bark at me.” Her head peers over towards Soap as he stood by her far right corner.

“Look at this-” Alejandro chuckles a bit under his breath. “She’s ex-military. We served together.”

Valeria leans against the chair, right arm rests back and casually crosses her legs. “Different squads. Same unit. You were the wild ones, huh... Los Vaquaros.”

Alejandro couldn’t help but grin by her words, the anger is still burning inside his chest, He remained ensnared by the deep-rooted resentment he had accumulated over the years—resentment directed at the woman who had endured solitude for so long.

“My squad was clean cut señores y señoras.” Valeria looks at Graves, he’s standing beside her, arms crossed.

“Until the raid on the son of La Araña.” Alejandro added.“Do you remember?”

“I remember perfectly.” Valeria smoothly responded in Spanish.

“Her team was told to cordon off the city to keep out La Araña’s enforcers to prevent bloodshed.” Alejandro explains the situation, offering sparse details about an adversary—possibly another cartel leader—from long ago.

“That’s exactly what we did.” Valeria concluded, almost smirking by her words.

“Well, you kept out his enforcers because you were his enforcers, huh?” Alejandro said, stepping closer, his voice laced with scorn as he exposed the betrayal that had fractured their past.

“He was escorted to the mountains without incident.” She said coolly, casting a sharp glance at everyone “Also to prevent bloodshed.” Her lips curled in faint amusement, as if subtly ridiculing the events with her own truth.

“He was supposed to go to prison.” Rodolfo joins, choosing to remain silent up until now.

“So you killed him,” Graves placed his hand on Valeria’s shoulder, urging her to sit firmly back against her seat while pacing around behind her. “And you took over.”

“I created a power vacuum, and I filled it.” Her voice rang with satisfaction., eyes locking with Graves as leaned against the wall with folded arms. “Las Almas needs me.” she declared, full of defiant pride.

“Las Almas needs soldiers, not sicarios,” Alejandro said, stepping forward slowly, his presence looming. .“And you...” He leaned down to her face level.

“You disgrace the army.” He announces with true, utter disappointment, glancing over towards his partner over his shoulder. “And your brothers, no?”

Sigma notices that Valeria’s smile has vanished. Her expression now speaks of disappointment—like everything has been spoiled. Her lips press into a thin line. Whatever Alejandro just said, Valeria will surely remember it.

“Why’re you’re doing this?” Graves asks, breaking the silence.

“You tell me...” Valeria turns her head to Graves, again, leaning against the chair, arm rests back, gesturing him. “You’re the contractor, no? What you don’t do your competitors will.”

“You’re a narco, harboring a terrorist.” Ghost spoke up, standing in the corner of the room, Sigma’s hands grips her vest, remaining distant and cold by Ghost’s side.

"Maybe you killed someone — that's still a crime. Sure, you might have taken his place, but you're tearing your country apart."

Valeria smiles a bit by Sigma’s words. “Talk like that could steal the spotlight in a speech, chica.”

Sigma’s arms went to her sides and clenches her fists. “Come again?”

Valeria shrugs, giving a side smirk. "Judging by your appearance, you strike me as intelligent. I do enjoy a bit of deduction."

"And you’ve got ties to the cartel. Don’t act like you’re clueless." Sigma’s tone slightly changes while spoke in Spanish and lowers her head. Her blue piercing eyes are looking at Valeria’s brown orbs from afar.

As though she weren’t the one confined, but the one in command — the judge, poised in her seat, wielding an unseen gavel, as if authority naturally belonged to her.

“A narco, a terrorist, it doesn’t matter. But you’re carrying a burned in your shoulders and blood in your hands.” Sigma continues to speak.

“Terrorism is good for business, it’s insurance.” Valeria added simply.

Alejandro slightly adjusts his position and gruff out. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Can you get your fucking head out of your ass for a second?! For fuck’s sake, Alejandro!” Valeria immediately bursts out at him across the short distance. Graves holds her shoulder to remain seated, she shrugs off the hand.

“As long as there is war on terror, there will be no real war on drugs.” Valeria leans forward, eyes narrowed. The tension around the room grew thicker by the minute. Her glare is flaring towards Alejandro as he stares at her, keeping his mouth shut.

Sigma knew Las Almas was a place drowned in dread… The people didn’t just fear it—they lived in paralyzing terror. Life in the City of Souls was a waking nightmare. Death came without warning, in suffocating silence. Even the children, wide-eyed and voiceless, were kept in the dark—cut off from the horrors unfolding beyond their crumbling walls.

“To find your so-called terrorist, and your missiles, you need me.” Valeria turned her head to Graves before looking back at Alejandro. “To prevent bloodshed.” Her lips pursed, concluded the mockery of her tone.

“No, I’m not doing this…” Alejandro walks to wards his rifle and grabs it, turning his back towards everyone.

“Doesn’t change anything.” Soap spoke up with his arms crossed.

“It changes everything! FUCK!” Alejandro shouts at the Sergeant, then uttering profanities as he turns back to the door. Sigma watches him enregating, standing firmly in silence.

“Don’t make a deal with her.” He annouces, glancing at everyone in the room. “It won’t end well.”

Alejandro opens the door and leaves, slamming the door. Soap steps up with a glare at Valeria. “Looks like it’s your turn to tell the truth.”

Graves inches closer to Valeria, leaning forwards her ear, breaking though personal space.

“I want the missiles, I want the target and I want Hassan.” Graves firmly states, counting with his finger one to another. “And you’ve got ten seconds or I’m going to show a difference between military and me.” He points to himself as he said the last word.

“I don’t know the targets, I’m a courier. I move things.” She calmly proceeds the answer. Her head tilts slightly to Grave’s direction. “I can tell you where to find the missiles. When you return, I’ll tell you where Hassan is. In exchange you will let me go. And you will leave Las Almas. Now leave.” She spat the last part aggressively in Spanish.

Soap turns to Sigma at the sound of her demand, his eyes locking onto hers. Her expression is a mix of confusion and alarm. She knows things are spiraling out of control. If Valeria is lying, the consequences will be brutal—and they'll come from Alejandro.

“Deal.” Graves rises his stance and walks ahead of her. “Until then, you’re staying right here.”

As everyone leaves, Sigma can’t help but to look at Valeria. She didn’t smile or frown, her expression remains stoic. She scoffs.

“Good chat...” Sigma mutters when she is about to leave, Valeria intertwines.

“Have a good hunting. I just know when the devil’s the only one worth trusting.”

Sigma’s back is facing her, she slightly looks over her shoulder. “I don’t trust everyone that quickly. besides I don’t need a global heat.”

Sigma steps out of the container and gently closes the door behind her. She trails after the others outside, the sunlight warming her skin as she raises a hand to shield her eyes. Slowly, she lowers it, adjusting to the brightness after the darkness she came out. Her second mission begins. Her legs feel heavy, but she moves toward the group, who are waiting for her.

---

I abandoned this fic for a year in the dust 💀GOD I MISSED DRAWING SOAP AND SIGMA-- I had to redraw her expression over and over cuz I didn't like it but woow look at that I'm proud of the rendering-

If you see a bold written like this - That means they're talking in Spanish. Hope you had a good reading! <3

Taglist: @welldonekhushi @deeptrashwitch @starcrossedspirit @raresvtm (I remember from my last post you guys want to be tagged when I release new chapters so here it is)

Reblogs are appreciated!

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