Work Text:
Brows knitted together in sheer concentration, you watched the beaker with bated breath as you hunched over the desk in anticipation. It was reading the current temperature of a weaponised chemical that you had been engineering for the past month and a half tirelessly, and today you had quite possibly had the largest break-through to date. For the longest time, the chemical had been reacting immediately with oxygen, causing it to ignite uncontrollably and melt the container that held it. However, after countless late nights in the laboratory, you had finally stabilised it. A triumphant grin broke out across your face as you removed your safety goggles and wiped a bead of sweat from your forehead. Not to sing your own praises, but you were truly one of the best scientists in your entire organisation-- without you, they would've lost this war by now.
You took out your phone, glancing at the time to see that it had just passed two o'clock in the morning. You knew that everyone was most likely asleep by now, but regardless you shot out a quick alert to your co-workers and leader about your accomplishment today. There'd most likely be a meeting called, and you'd receive some recognition for your findings and what exactly your next move should be. Your leader, Dimitri Adamovich, was a strict and ruthless man, but he would always give praise where praise was due. You slipped your phone into your pocket and began to tidy your workspace, ensuring to safely store the stabilised chemical where no one would find it.
You dimmed the lights, about to exit the room when a loud clatter caught your attention, followed by a hushed whisper, "What are you doing, idiot?!"
You froze, listening to the voices argue as they drew closer, "I thought you said that scientist would be here?"
"My intel was wrong. She's probably asleep in her room." A deeper voice huffed in response, definitely American.
"Great. Now, how are we meant to kill her?"
"I'll radio the client, see if he knows which wing she's in."
Your eyes widened tenfold, and you slapped a hand across your mouth to suppress your whimper of fear. Two darkly-dressed figures had now walked into view. Both were evidently armed to the teeth, each bearing pistols equipped with silencers and much larger assault rifles strapped across their each of their backs. Mercenaries, that much you were certain of. If they were hired by a "client", somebody wanted you dead but didn't have the guts to come do it themselves. You pulled out your phone slowly and unlocked it, cringing as the brightness of your home screen illuminated the entire corner of the room where you had been stood.
"Shit, she's still here! Grab her!" One of the men bellowed, and almost instantly you were manhandled onto the floor with a grunt. Your head was slammed against the hard floor amidst the scuffle and your vision blurred momentarily as the man wrestled you to pin your arms above your head.
"Damn, she's a pretty little thing, huh?" The man above you purred, "It almost feels wrong to put a bullet through a face like that."
The other hitman appeared to be more hesitant, looking between you and the door numerous times before offering a response, "Let's just kill her and go. The longer we stay here, the more we risk being caught."
"Aw, come on. Let me have some fun with her first." The other responded, grinding his hips into your own and drawing a cry from your lips before he pushed a gloved hand against your mouth, "Relax, princess, at least let me make your last moments enjoyable for you."
Tears began to well up in your eyes as you processed the actuality of the situation unfolding. You were going to die. You were going to be raped then murdered in your own laboratory, then undoubtedly left here for your co-workers to find whenever they woke up. You began to hyperventilate as the man's hands roamed your trembling form, your chest rising and falling sporadically as you pleaded with him through his hand. Muffled promises of tripling, then quadrupling the amount of money that his current client was paying him to kill you, but this only seemed to amuse the assassin as he smirked down at you.
"Diaz, Kowalski, isn't this a surprise?"
The man above you visibly stiffened, his head swinging around to glare at the intruder. You caught sight of him too, standing maliciously in the opposite corner of the room completely unmoving. He was gigantic-- his head was almost grazing the ceiling of the laboratory and even you could see how broad his chest and shoulders were. His face was covered with pale skull mask, giving him an almost ghoulish appearance in the dim lighting. Was he one of them? He greeted them as such, but his accent differed drastically from the other two mercenaries.
"Ghost?!" The man above you exclaimed, suddenly pushing himself to his feet and swiftly dragging you along with him, "What are you doing here, old friend?"
Ghost stepped away from the wall, drawing closer to you and the two mercenaries with silent steps. His eyes were cold and empty, and that terrified you. Those kinds of men were unpredictable and unreadable. Was he a friend or foe? What are his intentions?
"The usual. Keeping tabs on people who are where they shouldn't be." He responded cryptically, though his eyes were locked on you.
"Don't be like that, Ghost," your captor responded jovially, but you could tell how nervous he truly was by the way he was gripping your wrist, "You know, a job's a job and--"
"It's not too late, Diaz." Ghost cut him off sharply, "Get out of here and I won't tell Shepherd that an ex-agent was tampering with a 141 operation."
Diaz scoffed, glancing at Kowalski from the corner of his eye who responded with a subtle nod before reaching for his holster. Were they going to kill Ghost?
Before you could even comprehend what was happening-- two shots were fired. Your ears were ringing as something warm and wet splattered across your face causing you to reel backwards in shock. Two thuds could be heard as Diaz and Kowalski hit the floor, and a sob ripped itself from your throat as you looked down at your hands to see that your white sleeves were absolutely drenched in blood. You looked upwards at Ghost, who was now standing considerably closer than he had been before, and began to plead him for your life as you slid onto your knees with your eyes down.
"Hey," Ghost ushered, his voice impossibly deep, now standing directly in front of you as his combat boots came into view, "Shh. It's alright."
When it became apparent that you weren't going to stop crying, Ghost pulled you to your feet. Due to your shaky legs, you stumbled slightly. You were about to plummet to the floor before you were pulled into a solid and warm chest. Your senses were overwhelmed by his scent, which obviously included gunpowder, but was overran by mint and sandalwood. It was soothing. Ghost's large hand came to rest on your head, silently but reassuringly stroking your hair as you babbled and sniffled against him. Everything had happened so quickly. One minute you were feeling ecstatic due to a scientific discovery, and the next minute you were fearing for your survival against hitmen. Now what?
"You're okay now, pet." He cooed softly, using a much quieter tone to address you than when he was speaking to the other men. You huddled closer to him, wrapping your arms around this stranger's neck as he scooped you into his arms and checked you over for injuries, "Did he hurt you?"
"No." You responded with a sniffle.
"Did he touch you?"
Such a question only set you off again as you pressed your face into Ghost's shoulder, and he pulled you closer in response. You noticed that he was only using one arm to support your entire body weight, like you weighed nothing to him. You could feel numerous things strapped to his chest-- knives, guns, bullets. He was a one man arsenal, and you truly felt safe if this man was the one protecting you. He was truly a mammoth of a man.
"You're safe now. I'm here, love."
"Who-- Who are you?" You squeaked out.
The large man turned around, leading you back through the laboratory towards one of the fire exit doors near the back of the room, "Simon."
"Where are we going, Simon?"
"Back to base. My boss has a few questions for you."
"Wait--"
You felt something prick your neck, and though the pain was minimal-- it still stung. Within a matter of seconds you began to feel drowsy, your heavy eyelids betraying you as your head sank into the crevice between Ghost's neck and his muscular shoulder. You felt your heart sink when you realised how stupid and naïve you had been trusting Ghost. He was in that laboratory for the same reasons the other men had, only he used soft words and caresses to get to you, and you still fell for it.
"No--"
"Shh. Don't fight it, little one." His voice was almost enchanting, "Just sleep."
"Laswell, I have the target. Making my way to you now."
The last thing you remember was falling unconscious whilst being carried bridal-style by Lt. Simon Riley towards a black SUV that was waiting for you outside your organisation's headquarters.
You really needed to stop being so trusting.