Chapter Text
Location: Izmir (Türkiye)
Mission: Release of prisoners after a terrorist attack. eleven British civilians, three minor children.
Operation: G-47A
Grouping: Team Alpha and Bravo.
Task Force 141
Target: “Vicount” David Sakheslamov.
(bioterrorist)
Time: 14:57
Silence. This is the most painful part of working in special forces, sometimes it is this mysterious silence that hides a lot of horror.
Ghost sat comfortably at one tower next to the shopping center. The man spent about an hour and fifteen minutes in this position.
"Ghost, can you hear me?"
Laswell's voice was able to distract the masked man from the long boredom spent on the roof.
"Clearly"
Kate exhaled. Of course, Ghost realized that the mission was going to hell.
"There are three bilogy bombs. Now Soap is trying to reset them"
Johnny. Ghost clenched his hand on his MCPR-300.
"Price and the Bravo team were under the building. Gaz is now trying to get in from the left side"
Ghost looked at the moving figures of the two men, the sniper adjusted his sights.
There was no signal from exfil.
Silence again. This time, from the scope, Ghost saw two men shooting at the soldiers. From the eastern side, Price led the group, rushing into the epicenter.
Ghost's heart was pounding. A moment of panic. His husband was there, perhaps now under fire, with the hope of defusing the biological bombs.
"Bloody hell"
A quiet curse was heard from Price, who sharply tightened his grip on his CNR.
"Ghost, Vicount stands at the southern entrance, at six o'clock"
Ghost easily noticed the object. Taking aim, the man waited for the signal.
"Ghost, I give permission to fire"
Laswell's voice was broken, but Ghost heard something important.
Taking aim, the sniper clenched his fingers, and Ghost pulled the trigger without hesitation.
The shot came out perfect. The object fell lifelessly.
"Target killed"
"Meet us at the main entrance. That's all we have too"
Price's even tone came through the earpiece.
"Affirmative"
Soap looked lost, he was sitting on the opposite side of the military plane. The operation was successful, there were no losses, except for two wounded people.
The ghost did not remember what was happening, unlike Johnny, he could not easily determine the emotions of people, but he was acutely aware of sudden changes in the mood of the Scot.
At the base, Ghost was unable to talk to Johnny. The older man was too busy with constant reports from Price and annoyed Kyle.
"Johnny, what's wrong, love?"
When Ghost was finally able to dodge the captain and the pestering Gaz.
Soap's room was modest, like every other room on the base. But in the sergeant’s room, on the walls there were drawings, papers, notebooks, some sketches... MacTavish was a creative person who, before the army dreamed of becoming an artist, but because of his restlessness, Scot was called up for service.
"Yes, Si, everything is fine"
The blue-eyed man smiled tenderly at his husband.
"You're a bad liar"
Simon moved closer to the younger man.
"...It’s just that today I... You see, I just realized once again how instantaneous our life is. You know, when I was trying to defuse this bomb, all I thought about was you. Aye, ya just felt regret, a feeling of emptiness"
"Hollow?"
“Exactly, damn it! Ma heid's mince...Then with that damn bomb ah' realized how much I loved you and wanted a better life, to live without fear...”
"Are you scared, Johnny?"
This is the first time Ghost hears that John MacTavish was scared, he was the bravest of the 141, from the base, perhaps even the only person who was so brave and risky.
"Do you want to retire?"
The masked man's voice was calm, but LT definitely felt some sadness.
"That so?"
"Maybe"
Soap answered hesitantly.
Both men looked at each other carefully, trying to find the answer.
Soap was about to say something until, but Gaz burst into the sergeant's room without any invitation.
“Oh, I interrupted...” – Kyle answered with an embarrassed eye, calmly continuing "Price is looking for you, he says that we are being sent to London, some shit is going on there again"
___________
Location: London (UK)
Object: "Ford" (Bill Whalley)
Terrorist,a violent fanatic of the
"white race",
blew up a children's camp in 2020,
charged with third-degree murder for killing32 foreign-born children
Mission: Kill/capture
Time: 23:41
Base: 145-sf
Operation: R-2
Night and damp. Loud roar of iron and terrible shots.
Task Force 141 was in one of the tunnels of London, in a word, in a God-forsaken place, where communication with Laswell was terrible.
Under heavy fire from bastard Ford, Price barely heard what Kyle was saying.
Soap injured his hand, and Gaz himself managed to dislocate his shoulder. The mission was going to waste.
Soap clenched his jaw.
"Sir, we need to retreat!" – Gaz wisely insisted, releasing the weapon from his hands. – “Empty"
“I’m empty too, yer bloody bastard...” responded a ragged man with a mohawk.
“We’ll retreat and lose Ford, the routing could barely find it...”
"Son of..."
At that moment, John MacTavish's whole world turned upside down. The ghost fell onto the cold asphalt with a dull sound.
The lieutenant felt a terrible feeling of burning in the abdomen, while continuing to move his hands.
Price fought back with all his might and yelled something while Kyle tried to hold the body of the masked man. Soap, standing on top of his husband, diligently tried to bandage the wound.
A bright explosion and inaudible screams were the last things Ghost heard. Then there was darkness.
Location: Glasgow (home) Time: 10:09
Soap's warm hands warmed a large, rough hand with small scars. Both men sat on a wide sofa in a calm and peaceful environment.
Warm rays of light modestly illuminated the living room. Near the couch there was a small cradle near which toys and various squeakers were scattered.
John MacTavish, with a pleasant smile on his face, looked joyfully at the blond man sitting next to him. His scarred face in no way hid all the beauty of his gothic prince: golden hair that grew slightly, eyes dark as night and a roman nose with a slight hunchback. In short, the man of MacTavish's dreams.
“Aye, sweetheart, will ya leave for work early today?”
Simon carefully pulled away from his husband, slowly starting to pack the baby's bag with supplies, starting with a pacifier and ending with a pile of diapers.
“I think. I’ll leave for the salon in an hour"
By salon, Ghost meant his workshop. After his retirement, Simon decided to open a motorcycle dealership where they repair, sell and assemble motorcycles and bikes; the older man had a passion for bikes since childhood. Ghost himself had a sports bike when Soap loved his own classic Mustang-250.
The idea of starting his own business was suggested by Soap, who himself often hung out at work with his husband. Speaking of John, the Scot were rioting in the tattoo parlor. The man, born an artist, decided to find a job that was pleasant to his hands by taking several tattoo courses.
A year has passed since they left the SAS, becoming ordinary civilians again.
When the couple decided to start a family, they decided to adopt a little puppy. The little boy's name was Johan, another little Scot in the heart of Ghost, who suddenly turned his head.
Quiet, unintelligible sounds were heard from the playpen.
"Are you awake, love?"
Johan actively began waving his small arms, trying to reach his fathers.
At first, Simon was afraid of adoption, Ghost did not want to be like his father without receiving a proper example, but Soap taught him to be a wonderful dad. John was a good parent. He grew up in a large family of three sisters and long parents who supported him in every possible way. Even after accepting his son’s sexuality and choice of an army career.
“Wee yin, is our little elf ready to eat and then go to work with his gloomy da?”
"Hey, since when am I the moody dad and you're the funny dad?"
"Ever since then, right, baby?"
Soap hugged the child tightly, kissing his son hard on his soft, plump cheeks.
How Ghost loved watching John as a dad.
"Hey, big doaty, come join us"
MacTavish, now with longer hair, pulled the blond by the waist, pulling him closer to him.
"I love you Johnny, Johan..."
The former LT gently moved his large hand over his son’s red head, realizing how tiny he was.
"Bonnie, I love you very much, Saimon. We both love ye"
After a few seconds of the cute family hugging, Ghost suddenly said:
“Johnny, do you know why trolls hide under bridges?”
"No, I dinnae know, Simon."
"Because they're all being trolled"