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All of the new recruits knew that Sergeant Soap MacTavish was something of a softie.
He rarely yelled or screamed at them the way their other commanding officers did. He was more sympathetic when they were tired, letting them rest or finish early. He didn’t even mind if they slipped up and forgot to address him properly. He was quicker to praise and generally spoke in a far kinder way to them. And while that meant that when they walked into the gym or training room and saw him, they all perked up, it also meant that the healthy mix of respect and fear they held for other CO’s was somewhat lost.
Of course, they knew that he was a Sergeant in the SAS for a reason, it really didn’t occur to them that he was capable of anything further than a few extra laps and cleaning duties as punishments.
As well as they knew this, the recruits on base also knew that Lieutenant Ghost was the exact opposite.
He never hesitated to raise his booming voice with them, to make himself heard, and make himself understood. He rarely talked if it wasn’t to bark orders at them. He never let up, working them to the bone, and while it made them better, it caused them to half resent, half fear him. Of course, they respected him, everyone had heard of the legendary Ghost, but when he was sweeping you off your feet and yelling at you about proper footwork it was hard to be reverent. Aside from all that, they knew two things about Lieutenant Ghost.
The first, was that he never showed his face. There were rumours that not a single person alive knew what he looked like, and if anyone living did find out, they were sure to not be very soon afterwards. Nobody knew exactly why he his himself under layers of black fabric and the hard shell of his skull mask, but they knew not to question it.
Secondly, Sergeant Soap was like a magnet for him. Any time they were within the same room, or even part of a building, Ghost would find his way to hover in the background, eyes never leaving Soap. Rumours of their relationship spanned from enemies, to rivals, to brothers, to fuck buddies. Again, they all knew better than to question it.
So when they emerged into the gym on a crisp early morning, they were equally surprised and not surprised to see both Ghost and Soap waiting for them. Soap holding a clipboard and grinning slightly, Ghost standing a pace behind him, arms crossed over his chest.
“Alright guys! Sparring practise today!” he called over their whispered conversations. An equal number of groans and happy noises came from the group.
“You’ll be in pairs, and the Lieutenant here and myself will be walking around and correcting you, so, dump your bottles and head back over here in five,”
Chatter instantly broke out over the group of rookies as they walked over to the benches to throw down their water bottles and have a chat before the training began. One particularly loud-mouthed recruit named Brandon started to talk, just low enough that their superiors couldn’t hear. The others shared side-eyes as he opened his mouth, grimacing.
“Who does that Ghost fucker think he is? Just standing there like he’s better than us? Don’t even get me started on that stupid mask. I swear I’ll yank it right off. He’s probably fucking ugly,”
The rest of the recruits ignored him, like they’d quickly learned to do after having to share eating and training areas with him. Still, they were undeniably curious about what the renowned Ghost looked like under the mask.
Before long, they were back standing in front of Soap. He called out the pairs they would be sparring in, and everyone moved to stand with their partner. The young man paired with Brandon shot helpless looks at the others, who were deeply sympathetic. Upon the Sergeant’s orders, they spread out to make room for sparring. On his whistle, they leapt into action.
Soap and Ghost walked slowly between the fights, occasionally standing still to watch for a moment, before stopping the pair and making comments and suggestions. Soap’s comments were much more on the friendly side, while Ghost didn’t hesitate to lecture them about the eleven different ways they could’ve been killed already. Before long, they were sweaty and hot, panting, their blows becoming weaker.
“Private Rower! What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Cover your head before someone knocks you out,” Ghost barked.
Smirks and snickers passed around the group at seeing Brandon being yelled at.
“Alright! Everyone break and take five,” Soap called over the rookies, and they instantly dived for their water.
It was clear that Brandon was angry at being humiliated by Ghost in front of the group. His scowl was deeper than usual, and he almost spilled his water with the force he opened it with, his boots kicking at the padded ground.
Soap and Ghost called everyone back over to them, well, Soap called them over, Ghost mainly stood there looking menacing.
“Okay, listen up! We’ll be taking you through a simple takedown technique for you all to practise in your pairs. Watch me demonstrate first,”
Soap approached Ghost, and the recruits held their breath.
“In hand-to-hand combat, you might find yourself grappling with your opponent, like so,” Soap manoeuvred himself so he and Ghost were standing with their arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders and neck.
“What you’ll want to do is take a quarter turn towards the direction of the leg you are going to sweep with, step forward with one leg, spin them slightly and hook the opposite foot around the back of their leg. Pull with your leg and push their shoulders in the opposite direction,”
While Soap was talking, he demonstrated the moves on Ghost, and soon the larger man was crashing to the floor on his side with a grunt. The rookies flinched, waiting for Ghost to tear Soap apart, but instead he grasped the offered helping hand Soap held out to him him, and was pulled to his feet.
“Pair up in your original pairs and get going,”
The scrambled to follow orders.
In the dining hall that night, the recruits were hunched around their table, talking excitedly.
“Did you see the way he took Ghost down? And Ghost didn’t even break his wrist when he helped him up,” a girl with ginger curls said.
The 141 ate their dinner at a separate table on the opposite end of the dining hall, with a few other commanding officers, as well as two men from Mexico who had been flown in to help with a mission in a few days. So, there was no chance that their superiors would hear them.
“They obviously talked about it earlier, Ghost let him do it. Besides, Ghost likes him way too much,” a blonde boy rolled his eyes.
“Still, it was a pretty hard fall, and Ghost doesn’t like the Sergeant more! Creepy hovering doesn’t automatically mean that he likes him,” the ginger shot back.
It was then that Brandon decided to pipe up.
“Maybe your precious Lieutenant Ghost isn’t as tough as he looks. That’s probably why he hides himself behind the mask,” Brandon said loudly, sneering.
“Shut up Brandon, you don’t know why he wears it,” a black-haired Australian rookie cut in.
“Whatever. I’ll pull his mask off and you’ll all see that he really isn’t anything special. He’s definitely an ugly fucker as well,” Brandon huffed, crossing his arms.
“We all know you don’t have the balls,” the Aussie laughed, joined in by the others.
“I’ll fucking show you,” Brandon nearly yelled, picking up his tray and stalking away from the table. The others shared looks before shrugging and going back to their meal.
Early the next morning saw them outside. It was freezing cold, and they stood shivering slightly, huddled close together. Again, both Ghost and Soap were stood in front of them. Soap, somehow, was wearing just a t-shirt and cargo shorts, and they all wondered if he was some sort of polar bear with how he seemed to not notice the cold. Ghost was more sensibly dressed, with a jacket pulled over his normal hoodie.
“I want everyone running five laps of the field! Last one back does push ups,” Soap instructed, and they all scrambled to start running their laps.
While their feet pounded on the ground, wet with morning dew, their breath rose in front of their faces. Most of their eyes were still locked on Ghost and Soap, who were talking in the middle of the field. Well, it was impossible to tell if Ghost was talking, but Soap certainly was. They were all shocked when Ghost’s laugh rang over the field, and Soap joined him, looking delighted. They’d never heard anymore more than a sharp exhale or amused snort from Ghost, and even then, it was a rare occasion.
That brought up more questions than it answered about their relationship.
To everyone’s delight, Brandon was the last to return from the laps, and Ghost barked at him to do thirty push ups while Soap gave instructions to the rest of them. The rookies were focused on Soap explaining the exercise circuits they would be running through, and only just noticed Brandon standing up and reaching up behind Ghost a second too late. His hand grabbed the back of Ghost’s mask and yanked. The material came off easily, and instead of turning around and beating Brandon senseless, Ghost froze.
The recruits gaze immediately fell on his face, and who could blame them? Once they glanced, it was hard to stop looking. The lieutenant’s sandy blonde hair was a little longer than regulation, and he was clean shaven. His golden-brown eyes were hooded by almost white eyelashes. He was handsome, sure, but it was the scars that made it hard to look away. A Glasgow smile pulled at the skin of his cheeks, and a little diamond of teeth was exposed on the right-hand side of his lips. A large gash crossed diagonally across his entire face, and a burn took up his right cheek and extended down his neck. A slash came down across his forehead, and a small chunk was taken out of his ear. Seemingly coming back to himself, Ghost’s hands flew up to his face to cover it and the rookies looked away shamefully.
They were slightly confused when a terrifying, growling voice sounded.
“Give it back,” he hissed, dripping with pure, ice-cold venom that caused most of them to shiver. They realised that it was coming from Sergeant Soap.
“So, he is ugly!” Brandon exclaimed, seemingly unaware of the danger he was in.
That caused a feral, guttural noise to come out of Soap as he lunged at Brandon.
The rookies stood awestruck as Soap swept Brandon’s legs from under him in the same move he had taught them the previous day. Only this time, he followed him down, straddling the man’s torso, his knees pinning his arms down. Fear flooded Brandon’s face as Soap pulled back his fist. It landed squarely on Brandon’s nose, and a sickening crunch noise exploded from him, blood spraying across the ground, the private, and the sergeant. The recruits were snapped out of their haze, and they ran to get a better look as blow after blow rained itself down on Brandon. Soap’s hits were unforgiving and unrelenting, his fist soon coated in blood. The rookies weren’t sure what to do, although a few of them were cheering. Brandon was screaming, his blood coating his face.
Soap’s hand flew to Brandon’s throat, and he let out a squeaking choking noise, squirming under Soap’s grip.
“Nobody messes with my Lieutenant and lives to tell the fucking tale,” he snarled, squeezing tighter, his other hand joining in.
Eventually, it was Ghost who pulled Soap off Brandon. He had pulled a mask out of his pocket and slid it on, before grabbing Soap and pulling him backwards.
The look in Soap’s eyes terrified the recruits. They had never seen their Sergeant with his face splattered with shiny red liquid, pure bloodlust pooling in his grey eyes. Brandon groaned on the ground, his nose obviously broken, with blood gushing from multiple wounds in his face.
Someone had run to get others, and soon what seemed like half of base was on the scene. Medics picked up Brandon, and Captain Price was seen disappearing with Soap and Ghost. The rookies were quickly told to return to their barracks and await further instructions.
Within the hour, a few of them were taken and asked what happened. Unsurprisingly, not a single one of them tried to fight for Brandon’s side of the story, instead detailing how Brandon had heavily provoked their two superiors, physically, in Ghost’s case.
News spread fast around base that Brandon was being transferred to another base, and that Sergeant Soap had managed to land himself a month’s suspension on-base, filled with so many cleaning duties that the list was almost comically long.
And if Soap found some of his cleaning duties done before he got there, or if he was given extra servings at the dining hall when one of the rookies was on kitchen duty, or even if his next entrance into the rec room was met with cheers and claps, then it was no-one’s business but his own.
And if a certain ginger private handed a certain blonde private a ten-pound note when they accidentally caught Lieutenant Ghost and Sergeant Soap kissing in a side hallway, that certainly wasn’t anyone’s business.