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Lieutenant Taveon Weber was assigned a Sergeant for his upcoming mission, apparently, the sergeant is going to be loaned to him from a specialized task force. He needed a demolitionist and this Sargent was supposedly the best around.
When the helicopter landed on base a man with a mohawk jumped out with a wide grin and a call over his shoulder of, "Thanks fer the ride, Nick!"
With that, the sergeant runs up to him and offers a hand, "Sargent MacTavish, but call me Soap." Weber blinks hard before shaking the offered hand and introducing himself, "Lieutenant Weber." The scot somehow seems to brighten more before looking around at the base he has been dropped at. The man is attractive quite honestly even with his….questionable haircut.
Weber lets him as he gives his temporary Sargent the breakdown of the next few days, and the Sargent nods along. He finishes his spill with the sleeping arrangements, "You will be sleeping in the shared barracks." Soap scrunched his nose in distaste.
Confused, he asks, "Don't you sleep in a shared barracks on your base?" The scot shakes his head in the negative, "Nay ah' sleep separate, but it dinna matter ta me."
He just nods confused, but he drops it without a comment. After the Sergeant drops off his stuff he is herded into the gym. The two soldiers warm up after Weber expresses his want to see the Sergeant in action.
Soap bounced over to the sparring mat with a wicked gleam in his eyes and the lieutenant was quick to join him. They started to circle each other looking for an opening. It didn't take long and quick as a flash Soap lunged for his right shoulder before abruptly dropping and sweeping his left leg out from under him.
Weber tries to stop himself from sprawling onto the mat and just barely manages as he rolls to avoid the Sargent's follow through, he quickly throws out a leg to trip the scot but Soap dodges it. The sergeant then quickly rounds behind him and puts him into a chokehold before quickly twisting their legs together and flipping Weber onto his front. Now without leverage and quickly losing air he thrashes to no avail before reluctantly tapping out.
Soap is quick to free him,he offers a hand to help him stand as he smiles, Weber is stunned to say the least. The last time he had been pinned that easily was at basic and he tells the scot as much. Soap just laughs, "Ay ah's all thanks te my Lt." He says beaming, Weber insists they go a few more rounds and they do with Soap winning each one without fail.
They hit the showers after where he spots some suspicious marks on the Sergeant, but he refrains from commenting. After showers and dinner Soap is off to sleep tired from the sparring and flight over.
When he walks into the mess the next morning he is greeted by the sight of Soap entertaining what might be the whole base. With a wild smile and even wilder hand movements, Soap had won over every soldier on base in less than 12 hours.
It's honestly quite impressive.
A few hours later he sees Soap in the common room with his phone out and earbuds in as he seems to speak and….. sign… at the phone. He sees he's on a video call and elects not to snoop, only catching a piece of the conversation. "Ey's weird te not have ye all ehr." Followed by spluttering and a squeaked out, "JESUS SI SHUT ER' PUSS!"
The mission was upon them. With Soap, himself, and some marines (Soap had also managed to charm them in 10 minutes flat) were off. When they were approaching the drop point Soap reached inside his pack and pulled out a skull neck gaiter, a red skull faceplate, and a tin of black grease paint before quickly painting around his eyes and dawning the masks.
The electric blue eyes through the eerie red skull and black sockets were off-putting, to say the least. The skull motif didn't seem like it would fit the sergeant, but it did, and scarily well at that. One of the marines spoke up, "Where did you get that thing?"
Soap looked at the woman who spoke and answered, "My Lt." The woman blinked before looking over to Weber who shook his head, "He's not mine, he was lent out to me for this mission." She looks back to Soap, "So who is your Lieutenant, and team for that matter?"
Soap tilts his head, seemingly to weigh his options, "Lieutenant……." He pauses again before finally revealing the name with a grimace, "Riley, fuckin' hell ay's weird ta call im that." He added the final bit in a whisper seemingly talking to himself. "And my team that's classified."
Before anyone else could ask anything it was time for them to land.
.
.
.
.
Soap was outstanding in the field taking down enemies with cold ruthless efficiency. The sergeant was a fantastic sniper and lived up to being deemed one of the best demolitionists around. He also seemed to have a few screws loose, the manic laugh and unhinged look in his eyes whenever one of his explosives went off was disconcerting at least and terrifying at most.
The problem came when Soap argued his orders or blatantly ignored them in favor of his way. He would give an order and Soap would make a snarky demeaning comment followed by his 'better idea' and then do it even when told NOT to.
Weber could concede some of the ideas were good but it wasn't the sergeant's place to give orders, it was the CO's.
By the end of the mission, Weber was fuming and ready to strangle Soap. Soap was waiting by the extraction point, arms crossed leaning back on the plane.
"What the hell do you think you were doing!? I'm your CO. You follow MY ORDERS!"
"Ah'll follow yer orders when YE GIVE GOOD ONES!" The accent is thicker with his anger, "YE EVER THINK IT ISNA A GOOD IDEA TE OPEN OURSELVES TE AN AMBUSH FROM BEHIND?! IF I HAVNA DONE WHAT AY DID HALF THE MARINES WOULD BE DEAD."
Said marines shift uncomfortably, "THERE'S TIS THIN BETWEEN YER EARS, USE EY'T!" YE FUCKIN' BAWBAG!"
The marines watch the two go at each other with wide eyes silently agreeing with the sergeant.
"I'M YOUR LIEUTENANT MY ORDERS ARE LAW."
"AWAY N' BILE YER HEID!"
"YOU WANT TO SAY THAT IN ENGLISH?!"
"GO FUCK YOURSELF!" YE DAY ER WORDS LAW THEN MINE AR GOSPEL! IF YE WANT RESPECT YE AVE TA EARN IT!"
"HOW DOES YOUR LIEUTENANT HANDLE YOUR OBNOXIOUS INSUBORDINATE ASS?!"
"WITH SHITE DAD JOKES!"
Dead silence follows
"Can I go back ta my base now?" The scot asked chest heaving as his body shook with the anger still boiling in his blood.
The pilot, who hadn't said anything until now, answered, "Yes John, your base is closer." Soap smiled tightly, "Thanks, Nick." Then he placed himself as close to the pilot as he could. The two talk like the best of friends the whole flight.
When they landed on base it was about 03:00, Soap was the first out and he all but sprinted towards a shadowy figure on the tarmac. The scot launched himself at the person and was quickly enveloped into a hug, they guessed, they couldn't tell all that well after all the only thing they could see was black enveloping Soap.
Another figure appeared from a door and they made their way towards the group, their pilot walked to greet the person.
They hugged, "Johnathan." Nick greeted, "Nikolai." The man responded and a quick kiss was shared. Both men made the rest of the way to the group. The mystery man eyed the group before landing on Weber. The man offered out a hand in greeting, "Captain Price."
Weber's eyes blow wide in shock this was the legendary Price. "Hope my sergeant wasn't too much trouble." Price said before looking over his shoulder where Soap was still engulfed in shadows.
"OI, quit snogging you two save it for your room bloody hell, quite frankly I don't want to see or hear any of that." Then under his breath added, "Teenagers, those two I swear to god, worse than rabbits I tell you."
Grumbling followed the order as Soap detangled himself from the shadow before walking back to the group with the shadow in tow and his masks in hand. His face paint was smudged now and the shadow that followed him was growing in size. They still couldn't make out any details of the person besides the fact that they dwarfed Soap.
"Your sergeant doesn't listen to orders." He snarls hoping for some backup on the situation. A low chuckle comes from the shadow as the person steps forward finally coming into view.
The Ghost, unmistakable in his infamy looked down at them, "You were causing problems, Johnny?" The question was asked in a low and husky tone that caused Soap to shiver. "I kept everyone alive, that's my job Lt." As Soap said the honorific he made eye contact with Weber.
He suddenly wished the floor would swallow him alive but alas no dice.
"Good boy." Ghost praised his sergeant as he wrapped his large arms around Soap's waist and placed his chin on his shoulder.
Ghost looked dead into Weber's eyes, the blue and brown piercing his soul. "So what exactly is the problem, Lieutenant ?" The honorific sounded more like a slur the way Ghost spat it.
The Marines just watched the back and forth like a game of tennis looking more entertained and horrified the longer it went on. Weber was stuck between a rock and a very angry Ghost. He desperately looked to the captain for help, surely Price was reasonable.
Price the bastard looked a moment away from laughing while Nikolai had a self-satisfied smile on his face from where he was leaning on Price.
One of the Marines spoke up from behind, "He was-" He was quickly cut off, "No I asked the lieutenant." Ghost growled out and the marine shrunk back almost violently.
No one here was too eager to figure out what about the Ghost was fact and what was fiction.
Weber finally answered, "N-nothing sir so-sorry sir." Ghost hummed non-committedly looking him up and down and judging his sincerity. He seemingly came to a conclusion not long after.
"That's what I thought, come on Johnny."
Soap is quick to follow behind like the excitable puppy he was.
Price and Nick follow not long after, but just before they enter the building Price looks back at them and asks in the driest tone Weber has ever heard. "Are you all going to sleep on the tarmac?"
Everyone is quick to follow and sleep in a cot, uncomfortable or not. They were better than the floor.
And in Weber's case hopefully not being murdered if there were witnesses.