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hanjyukutamago · 1 year

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to kill a shadow

(imagine based on the graves' betrayal scene) (also definitely not proofread) (edited bcs i wanted to make the story longer) (also this is my first time writing a fic--well at least after 5-6 years?? so pls be kind to me uwu)

words count: 5,655 character count: 31,118

contents: violence, guns, blood, everything you would find in a typical cod game ofc(can be read as reader!!) x ghost x soap(platonic), everyone r mates, mentions of death, angst!!

(illustration is mine)

"Johnny, Mouse. How copy?"

"Solid."

"Great. Thought we lost you there. Mouse, how copy?"

Silence.

"Mouse?"

Not now, Ghost. I'm working right now. She thought to herself, a knife held tight in her left hand. Crouching right behind a Shadow soldier, her small figure gets even smaller, undetectable to the eyes of the American.

Small hands show to either shoulder of the soldier, the right holding his vest and the left stabbing right to the arteries on the neck. Making sure that there won't be any eyewitnesses, she withdrew the knife to her right, making a big slash no one could able to survive.

The soldier went limp, her right hand already on the vest went tense holding the weight of a dead man two times bigger than her, then left hand soon helped after sheathing the knife back into its pocket. Slowly she put down the soldier to the ground, making sure there was no noise made.

"Mouse busy. Killed a shadow."

"Was already thinking on how to look for a dead body as small as you." Ghost sighed in relief, two comrades alive is better than one.

"No need to. Mouse dead, more Mouse show up later. "

"Yes, and we've got a whole exterminator team outside." Ghost said, his voice low, reminding her of the situation. The sergeant tried to flip her brain right to left, front to back, trying to find a solution. There is no way they're going to hide along the way to safety right? There are just too many of them. Fully armed too, to remind her of their disadvantages.

She was lucky she still had her knife sheathed into her vest when the chaos broke out. Turns out Graves was not the cooperative man they were expecting to be. A fight between teams in this kind of situation is the last thing you would want. Especially against the ones who own attack aircraft that would end anyone in seconds.

The city of Las Almas probably is not the best, most peaceful one in the world, but it has its own charms; the music, the voice of children laughing, the chatter of people, it is never quiet in the city Los Vaqueros dearly loves.

Mouse took a small peek outside the alley, the first one after the last hour running and looking for a shelter to hide. The road that used to be so bright, so busy with locals running here and there is now dark, with nothing but bodies on the ground; men and women-children and also babies, the oh-so-beautiful terracotta floor painted with a shade of blood, streaming down the street, wet with rain.

"Bloody hell." She cursed under her breath, which is definitely the most normal reaction to this kind of scenery. "Does Graves know that they're doing a fucking war crime here?" The three of them can definitely hear the screams of wives, and scared husbands usually followed by a bang that ends them all, and the interrogative Shadows trying to force the Iranian out of his hiding, at least that is what they believe.

"These are innocent civilians..." Soap replied, she can hear the rustling behind his voice, probably still moving around trying to find a place safe enough to take a breath peacefully. "Shadows trying to play hero, aye?"

"Typical American move. Ghost, any ideas on how to escape this shithole?" Mouse has never been happy working with Graves, Shepherd, and anyone who's on their side. Too many orders, no solution. Too many noises for a small mission. She is not a fan of those unnecessary brrrts from the sky but she doesn't hate it, the Warthog-faced plane had saved her life numerous times.

"Stay low. Move through the houses. Make use of what you have. " The Lieutenant is a man of few words, but she had to admit that the things coming out of his mouth are usually useful.

Lucky. Mouse thought to herself, "I've got a knife with me. Soap?"

"Shite, got nothing on me. Probably dropped it somewhere in the forest--ouch--" Soap groaned, no matter how hard he tried to ignore the pain on his right shoulder, it keeps on coming back.

"Soap, you injured?" Mouse went into the empty-used-to-be-homey-coffee shop, her whole body complaining because instead of the sweet smell of her beloved coffee, she is greeted by the fishy smell of dried blood.

"Bullet to my right shoulder. But I'll be fine." Mouse nodded to herself, acknowledging Soap's report. Relying on the minimal light from the street and bright Shadow Jeep headlamp, she scoured the area looking for any extra weapons. It may be an empty house right now, but it still feels bad stealing something that used to be someone's. Especially when they're right there, eyes open wide with blood coming from the hole right between their jaw. The blood is fresh, meaning the Shadows were here, not long ago.

"Give me a sit-rep."

"Welcome to Starbucks, what would you like for today, Sir?" Mouse was proud of that one. She and Soap have been competing on who can make Ghost laugh harder. "Brits don't drink coffee, Mouse." Soap chimed, and she swear she could hear the targeted man chuckle a little. "Wid ye lik' some cuppa, Sir?" He continued teasing Ghost, he enjoys doing it every time. The comedian duo laughed together, satisfied by the joke. "MacTavish, sit-rep." Mouse can swear he was holding his laugh too, but for now, his stern reminder of the ignored comment is all they can get. "Rite, rite. Gated alley, Lt."

Mouse loves it every time someone makes a joke on the comms. These small interactions provide a little reminder of them still being human, not man-killing machines. Being in the army has never been easy, and will never be for anyone in the world, whether you're the strongest soldier or weakest loser out there. The emotional toll will always come like a big wave of a tsunami after every mission. When she was a Private, she believed that there is no way the missions would affect her mental health, that as long as she put nothing but her logical side of the brain into it. She was so tired of the stereotypes that women are much more emotional than men and tried so hard to prove them otherwise. But sometimes the percentage is right, and the surveys don't lie. She broke down in silence not long after her first mission.

Mostly, it was the blood. The only times she has seen blood is when it's flowing out of her flesh. The first time she has seen a fresh body it was so weird, and quickly realized how weak a human body could be.

The guilt of not being able to save everyone will never fade away, no matter how many missions she goes on after that. The kid in the Middle East. The small, weak old grandmother in Russia. The young man who died trying to protect his family in front of her.

The man was holding a handgun still wrapped tight by his dead fingers. Mouse noticed the weapon, and proceeded to take it from the cold skin of the owner, gently. This will help me survive outside. Thank you, and sorry I couldn't arrive earlier to help you. She spoke to the lifeless body in her mind, hoping that it would reach him somewhere, that he would forgive her for not being able to save the family.

She then looked around for any ammunition, because if he owned a gun that means he would have the refills for it, right? She thought and while she scoured the master bedroom for more possible useful stuff, she heard footsteps from the front door.

She stopped for a while trying to listen better to the noise, then held the pistol in both hands. By the weight of it, it seems like the previous owner didn't even get to shoot a bullet before having them in their head. Mouse kept her back to the wall, crouching behind the table in the corner of the room. The suspect of the noise stopped for a while, and from her position, she can see nothing but a familiar pair of boots.

The man is like a walking tower, yet his steps are feather-like. Mouse kept her presence hidden, she knows better than anyone that it would be a stupid idea to ambush a 6-foot-tall military man from the front. The scars and wound marks are proof of it.

She was going to wait until the giant walked past her so she could attack him from his back-until his face come into her sight. It was the lieutenant, probably looking for her and the other sergeant. "I'm inside the coffee shop." She could hear Ghost clearly from her comms, also from the man she planned on killing just a minute ago.

"Ghost! Sir!" She whispered loudly. It has been a long while since the last time she felt comfort in her heart. Seeing a familiar figure after hours of hiding in cold rain surely provide some kind of warmth, at least psychologically. The man in the balaclava somehow is fully-geared from head to toe, looking like a killing machine fresh out of the base. He quickly turned his head to the source of the sound, shoulders relaxed upon realizing that it was his junior behind the wooden table.

"Any injuries?" He asked, keeping it short and simple as always.

"No, Sir. Not a single drop of blood out." She answered, finally stood up, and walked to her superior.

"Good. Keep it that way. Gonna need a backup for exfil." He nodded, then proceeded to go upstairs. Mouse follows him automatically, keeping her footsteps light despite the heavy-duty boots. Ghost walked to the side of the window, Shadows can be seen still scanning the area that is now silent because there is no one alive to be killed anymore.

"See that church? We're going to secure our transportation right there." He pointed to the tall building up on the hills, easily visible because of the lights surrounding it. Probably a Shadow team meeting point. Ghost brought the walkie-talkie to his cloth-covered mouth, "Soap, I have regrouped with Mouse. Meet us at the church, how copy?"

"Loud and clear," Soap responded, almost immediately.

"Soap, can you manage? I can regroup with you first." Mouse reminded herself of Soap's injuries, worried about the lad going to the meeting point alone.

"Aye. Bleeding has stopped, kind of. Will somehow manage." He said, followed by a slight chuckle.

"Stay alive, Johnny." Ghost knows Soap probably better than anyone on the team, he would know when the Scotsman needs help or not.

"Roger, Sir."

Ghost moved his head in the direction of the stairs, ordering her to go downstairs first. She then moved to the direction of the kitchen, then opened the door leading to the back alley. The rainy clouds reflected the light from the church, making it easier to find a way out. Ghost followed her, always making sure no one is looking every time they make a turn into another tight alley.

They made their way into another house, the walls yellow-colored with a splash of dark brown here and there, plants on every corner of the room. Must be a cozy house before this shitshow, she thought. Ghost went straight to the kitchen, finding a rather big kitchen knife and handing it to her. 'Make use of what you have', as the skull-faced man one time said.

"Sir, can I ask you a question?" Mouse broke the silence, either it was her habit of being chatty at the wrong times or her attempt on getting her superior to speak more.

"Speak, Sergeant." He answered, eyes on the kitchen cabinets in front of him.

"How come you're so fully geared? You get a special drop or what?" She chuckled at the last sentence like it was a joke, but it really has been in her mind for a while. She has been going in and out of houses for hours, yet didn't find anything to hold on to as a weapon. How come this man has not one, but two rifles on his back?

"Your first guerilla warfare, kid?" He finally turned his back to the smaller women, slightly nodding his head in question. "You've seen my documents, Sir." Her eyes met with his for a second, then moved to the door to move again. He stayed behind her to keep her back, both of them safe.

Mouse tends to overthink her own actions, also over-analyze others' reactions. Usually by how their lips pout, how their eyebrows crease in confusion after she said something weird, and any changes in facial expressions. By Ghost's face not being visible, she could only rely on the slightest of his eye movements. They're a bit sparkly and strong when he's doing his job, dark when something didn't go his way, sometimes soft when he realized his teammate is injured, and she still can't prove it yet but also sometimes when he's looking at her. Is it because she's a woman? Because she's smaller? Looks weaker? Way greener than him? Anything it is, she doesn't care as long as she can keep working with the team.

"Sometimes you just have to let your experience talk, Mousey." He sometimes calls her Mousey when he's feeling a little bit chatty, usually to emphasize how small a mouse, and Mouse is. She doesn't hate it. Quite the contrary, she kinda loves it. It's like when your best friend gave you a nickname only they can use.

"Can't wait to be as experienced as you, Sir." She turned her head to Ghost one last time before stepping the wet road outside, again. They again stopped before making a turn on the alley. "Don't be like me, Sergeant. Do better." He has seen the glory and the muddy, stinky side of being in the army and he wouldn't wish anyone to see what he has seen and feel what he has felt before. If he could make Mouse stop her career in the military, he would. No human should live restlessly and hold the burden of world peace like this. Especially being in the 141 means that no one on the earth would be thankful for what they did, because if one does, that means they had failed on keeping the task force a secret.

"I can see the church, Sir, but there are too many Shadows walking around," Mouse reported to her superior who was behind her. This time Ghost went first, signaling her to get behind the car across the street. "Find cover. We're going to work our way to the church."

"Roger." The car's engine did warm her body for a bit, having it soaked in water for the last hours. She then peeked into the vehicle, the car key still stuck where it should be, feels like a gift from the great heavens for runaways like her.

"Sir, might want to mark this car. Engine's on, everything's there, we get Soap and run." Mouse said, excited to finally flee from the grasp of the Americans.

"Noted. Now let's move." Ghost led the way, avoiding the enemies' eyes which are ready to fire anyone who doesn't look like one of them. The pair kept on hiding behind cars, slowly making their way into the church.

"Any visual on the church?" Ghost asked the other sergeant.

"Aye. Road's blocked, though." Soap looked around for any threats, then moved to a darker alley, hiding in the shadow, from Shadows. "Try and cut through the shops. Much safer." Ghost warned. "Aye, sir. On my way."

After countless houses and shops, Ghost and Mouse finally reached the side fence of the church. The front steps were heavily guarded by an army of Shadows, making it not an option to sneak from the main gate. They could feel some kind of relief once they stepped on the cold granite floors of the religious building. Shadows might be carefree enough to kill civilians for zero reasons, but they wouldn't be brave enough to attack a church... right?

Whatever the truth is, they proceeded to go to the higher floor of the church. "I'll go first. Watch my back." Ghost said, holding his rifle tight. The church looks like it hasn't been touched by the chaos, chairs, altar, and everything still in place.

Ghost placed himself near the window of the fifth floor, prepared to give Soap the backup he would probably need when he reaches the building. Just right after he placed his sniper rifle(which Mouse kept staring at because how the fuck did he get that?), he noticed a figure that definitely doesn't belong in the Shadows squad. The figure ran into an alley, probably inside the house. The soldiers were facing another direction, not aware enough to notice him.

The pair both know it's ninety-nine-percent Soap who is inside the house. Ghost aimed his rifle at the front door of the said building, his eyes fixed right on the scope. "I'm nearby, Sir," Soap reported through the radio.

Soap was going to open the front door slowly and sneak up to the church, but it was unfortunately locked from the outside. Either he didn't realize that there are enemies outside of the house or a pure case of having so little patience left, he tried prying open the wooden door. Which of course was followed by a rather big noise considering you're hiding from a whole squadron trying to kill you.

"No, no, no, Soap! Not like that!" Mouse loudly whispered, her heart beating fast and muscles tense watching Soap's action from behind the walls of safety, or so she thought.

Soldiers swarmed the door in an instant, meeting one of the guys they have been looking for hours. A loud bang of gunfire echoed, not from the Shadow, but from the man beside Mouse.

Heads soon turned in the direction of the church, giving Soap time to escape. Shadows soon swarmed the church from the front gate, rifles on hand, definitely not trying to repel their sins. If you have done one war crime, why not add more, yeah? Nothing will change anyways.

"We've got visitors here! Meet me on the steps outside!" Ghost packed his sniper rifle, switching to a smaller, M4A1. They ran to the other side of the tower and went downstairs hoping that there will be fewer Shadows there. The American soldiers sure are fast, as one, or two already reached the fifth floor they were camping on. Mouse shot a bullet, piercing through the unprotected area of his face, replied by a bang from the other side. Two bodies dropped to the floor, one in all-black attire and one with a British flag on the right sleeve.

Ghost noticed the fight behind him, then turned his face to find that Mouse isn't there. She might sometimes be stubborn, but there was no time she doesn't obey an order. Ghost was midway to the 4th floor, then just as he was about to reach the fifth, another bang echoed, followed by a heavy thud.

He always has worst-case scenarios prepared in his head, and one is to work out his muscle a little bit and carry Mouse to safety somewhere in this mission. Sometimes his habit gets really spooky and becomes a reality.

"Don't--pick me up. I can go by myself." She grunts, holding up her body with the help of the wall, one hand waving to Ghost, signaling him to not worry. She is not scared of blood, but she hates the smell and the texture of it. She hasn't dared to look at her wound but can feel it from her inner left thigh. "Fast, before another Shadow shows up and kills us both."

Ghost opened his pocket and took out a leather belt, then fastened it right above her wound. He tightened it as much as it could go, then poked a new hole with a knife, the belt resting nice and steady, and of course doing the job of reducing the blood loss at the very least.

"Now we can move." Ghost gave a look of approval in his eye, then helped Mouse to stand straight on the ground. "Quick. I can hear the footsteps. You go first."

Mouse nodded, and they change places. Ghost gave an extra look every time he checks his back, and also every time Mouse took another step downstairs. They stop every time the rustling of army vests and heavy steps of the boots can be heard, wait until they are gone, or shoot them when they're heading their way. Mouse kept count of how many bullets will be left in her handgun, making sure every bullet out are deadly accurate. By the time they reached the ground floor, she only got two left inside the weapon.

Finally made his way to the steps outside the fenced church, Soap was a tad bit confused when he couldn't see any Shadows there. "I'm here, Lt! Area clear, no Shadows!" He reported, but of course, there would be no Shadows outside, because they were all inside chasing for the other two 141 members.

The wooden gate of the church opens, showing a limping small soldier and following a tall man with a skull balaclava, both running for their dear life. "Soap!" Ghost shouted to the man waiting outside of the fence, moving to his location to regroup. Soap shot the gates' lock with a handgun he found earlier, strapped to the body of a dead Shadow. He then opened the heavy gate with his unwounded arm, making it easier for the pair to exit the area they were in.

"Steamin' Jesus, Mouse! Y'alright?" Soap noticed the gunshot wound, the camo cargo pants now dyed dark red. Adrenaline keeps Mouse up, running, and shooting bullets, but other than that, she finds it hard to process. She finds it hard to make a proper sentence to answer him, so she just ran to the car she found before going into the church.

"Mouse found a car before we got here. We need to secure the vehicle!" Ghost ran behind Soap and Mouse, then noticed how Mouse became less and less fast. The bullet probably grazed her femoral arteries, and although not completely sever it, it's still one of the main arteries and it will leak more and more blood as she goes. It is undoubtedly Ghost's belt did wonders because if it doesn't she would've been dead from blood loss right now.

Ghost, being the only unwounded one then ran to the front of them, then picked up Mouse along the way. Usually, Mouse would've resisted, but she had little to no energy for that. "What... the... fuck..." She moved her mouth slowly, still processing what had happened, why is she on the lieutenant's shoulder, why is she not running anymore. One good thing is, Mouse is small enough, at least for Ghost, to carry on his right shoulder.

"Soap, use this!" Ghost passed his assault rifle to the sergeant. "Cover us!" He opened the back door of the Jeep, placing Mouse in a position where she could sit comfortably. Her eyes are still open, aware of everything that is occurring in front of her, but not strong enough to react. The handgun was still held tightly in her left hand, her right hand on the car seat, holding the weight of her body. The blood seems like it's not going to stop any time soon. She grunts, and straightened her body, planning on giving support by making the best out of the two bullets inside her gun.

Soap got inside the car, passenger's seat, and Ghost is driving. The car engine is still on, just like the time they found it. Ghost hit reverse, did a whole donut then hit the gas, reaching the speed that definitely will get anyone a ticket if the town is in its normal state. The Shadows, of course not giving up yet, tried to chase the stolen car. Soap shot rounds of bullets, killing the Shadow that was shooting at them. The driver is still chasing them, but no matter how many times Soap pulls the trigger, the bullets are not coming out. Mouse realized the crisis they're in right now and moved her body to the left side of the seat, took a look at the target, and shoots him. The first bullet was stopped by the window, and the second, the last bullet hit the driver near his neck. Was not the headshot she expected it to be, but still enough to help them run away.

Mouse let out a sigh, adrenaline stopped pumping and a wave of fatigue washes over her. She rested her head on the headrest, then moved her eyes, scanning the inside interior of the car. 'Oh, right' She thought, as her eye stopped on the wet wound. Everything is slow and blurry, and all she thought about was how she wanted to throw her body to a bed and sleep.

"Don't you dare sleep, Osborne." Ghost took a peek in the rearview mirror, finding the sergeant about to doze off. Soap turns his body, keeping a look on the wounded soldier in the back seat. "I'll keep my eyes on her, Lt. Keep driving." He said, and he kept his words, as he literally stared at Mouse without even blinking.

Mouse found the sergeant's action funny and let out a weak chuckle. "Stop. You're scary." Mouse knew that it was game over once she closes her eye. She knows it too well, she has seen it too many times, more than enough.

"Where are we going, Sir?" Soap asked the driver, eyes still on Mouse. "Alejandro has a safe house. We're meeting his men there." If Ghost could go faster, he would. The thing is, this is the fastest a Jeep could go. The blocked roads are also not helping. Soap unfastened his seat belt, then jumped to the back seat. "I'm sorry, little mouse, you know I hate violence but I had to do this."

He hit Mouse's cheeks from both sides, squeezing them and bringing his face closer to hers. "Let's do a little quiz, aye? What's your favorite subject in school?" The surprise slap and sudden quiz did open Mouse's eyes a little bit. "Heh, Lame." The driver chimed in.

"What the fuck, Soap." She laughed. "Mom wansme goodadmahhs." Every second she finds it harder and harder to move her body parts, her mouth not excluded. "Mouse... badadid." Her eyes started getting teary, Soap's question brought up some good memories of her hometown. "Tellmamom... Sorry-ah-lie...d." Her body shakes every time she sniffled, her head full of regret for not being honest with the people she loves.

"You tell them yourself, Natalie. Maybe after we are back in the UK?" Soap's mission was only one, and that is to keep the other sergeant talking. Having little to no energy left, Mouse nodded, hoping that her body wouldn't have to be sent to her house, because it will be funny that Natalie Osborne, who's supposed to be working in the paperwork department of the SAS, died because of a bullet wound.

People who have seen her documents, in this case, Captain Price and Lieutenant Riley, must've known that her parents actually knew about their daughter being in the task force. Her dad actually once became suspicious and called directly to the military hotline. He told them not to tell her, though, because he knows she would be embarrassed as fuck if that happened.

They were approaching the road out of the city but were met with barbed wires, preventing citizens to escape from the lockdown. Ghost didn't hesitate and drove through it, finally getting them out of the destroyed city. The surroundings of the car shifted from the street lights to the dark mountains, and them getting closer to the safe house. She doesn't know if it's because of the lack of lamps, but Mouse felt like her vision is getting darker as time passes. Her headache is gradually getting stronger and her eyelids get heavier each second.

"Hold on, Mousey. The safe house is close. We'll patch you up first thing first." Ghost held tight on the steer, he is not panicking, but no one will ever get used to seeing their teammate's soul slipping out of their hand. They are so close, so close to saving Mouse from the death's door.

"Am sleepy, Simon..." Consciousness fading in and out, she doesn't even realize she's calling her superior by his given name. Wrinkles show up between Soap's eyes, worried about the inevitable. "Come on, hey, you said Mouse don't die, aye?" He gave her cheeks some light taps, in an attempt to wake her up again.

Mexico is not supposed to be this cold, even if it's a rainy night. She doesn't know, it's her first time visiting the country. She could see Soap's mouth moving as if he was talking to her, but she couldn't hear anything. The last thing she wanted to do was to talk. She just wants to lay down somewhere warm and comfy, then sleep.

It all makes sense now. She's not going to be a better person than the Lieutenant, she's not going to be the first female captain in the SAS. The book is closing, and it is by an American betrayer. Should she become a wandering spirit, she will ghost Graves anytime she could. Yeah, that's probably a good plan for her future. She unconsciously chuckled with her last drop of energy, and finally succumbed to the fatigue.

"No, no, no, no, no--Fuck! We're losing her!" He slammed his fist to the car seat, then immediately rushed to fold Mouse's sleeves up and took her gloves off, desperate for any signs of a heartbeat. "How long 'til we get there, Lt?" He finally took his eyes off Mouse after a good hour and gave the Lieutenant a look from the rearview mirror.

"One last turn. Hold tight." Ghost made a hard turn but hardly a drift, the trees fading, and a big barn came into sight. It looks clean but somehow abandoned, with nothing but the field of grass surrounding it.

"I'll carry her. Johnny, you take care of your own wound." Ghost got out of the car first, then opened the back door. "Aye, Sir." Soap nodded, then walked to the said safe house. He kneeled to the iron plates on the ground, suspicious of the placement.

Ghost let out a heavy sigh, then carried the limp body out of the vehicle. He could feel her chest rise and fall softly, a sign for him to not give up hope. He may not say it out loud, but having his subordinate injured under his watch leaves a big guilt on him.

He stopped walking behind the kneeling Scotsman, and he too noticed the object on the grass. "Rigged plates." Soap deducted. "Smart bastard." Ghost approved, amazed by the Mexican Special Forces colonel.

Soap went inside through the open window, his now freshly loaded rifle ready in his hand scanning the lowly lighted area. Ghost followed with Mouse on his shoulder, and a red dot appeared on Soap's forehead. "Don't move." He ordered the sergeant, then a knife was sent flying in the direction of the laser, landing on the wooden pole.

"Who's there?" A familiar sound asked, answered by Soap who realized the owner of the voice. "Rodolfo!" He called, and the mentioned man then appeared from behind the pole.

"Soap! Ghost! Mouse!" His eyes light up, seeing his amigos alive and moving, but his face soon turned the opposite when he laid his eyes on Ghost's shoulder. He jumped out of his hiding, and gave back the knife Ghost threw at him, rushing to help them carry the injured sergeant.

"You guys equipped with proper infirmary?" Ghost waved his hand, signaling the Mexican that he will carry Mouse by himself. "Come," He nodded, then did a light jog to the light switch, turning on some of the barn's light sources. He then pulled down a lever, and wooden barn doors opened, showing them another door, hopefully, filled with medical equipment.

Ghost laid down her body on the hard bed, and gave her one last look, his eyes soft as always. The curious eyes that used to look up at him, were now closed, skin pale. He sighs, he has never been good at expressing emotions, on how to act when his teammate is nearly dying, in front of him. The Los Vaqueros had a combat medic, thank whoever's up there. The British Special Forces went out of the room, entrusting the life of little Mouse in the Mexican soldier's hands.

Whatever results that will come out of the door, one thing that Ghost, and Soap know, is that they were not ready to lose another friend. At least after they all saw her efforts in climbing the harsh world of the army. All those hard work, all the times they have bonded together as a team, as mates. How are they supposed to see Price's face after all this? How to tell Gaz? How to move on to another mission with one gear missing?

They don't have enough time to worry, never enough time for anything. They had to move forward, plan on getting their revenge on Graves and Shepherd, free Alejandro, find Hassan, and save the world from chaos.

One thing they keep in their head, is that you can never kill a Mouse. They will always come back, usually smarter, and even harder to kill. As someone once said:

"Mouse dead, more Mouse show up later. "

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