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Waking up around noon, Soap lay there for a while, not wanting to leave Ghost's warm embrace. He tried to pretend he was still asleep, but it was impossible to fool the demon.
“Your phone was vibrating and flashing, Johnny.” He said, slowly stroking Soap's back.
“Good morning to you too, Lt.” The sergeant sighed and reached for his phone, which was lying on the bedside table.
An unread message from Price flashed on the screen, saying that Gaz and Roach had already left for breakfast and that he was waiting for Soap to wake up so he could check on him and Ghost and talk to the lieutenant about something. MacTavish groaned heavily, then, holding his wounded arm, reluctantly got out of bed and went to the bathroom. When he washed and dressed, both beds in the room were neatly made, and Ghost was standing at the window, having had time to put on all his gear. Soap called Price, and a couple of minutes later he was knocking on the door.
“Good morning, lads.” The captain said. ”How are you feeling, Soap?”
“Like shit.” Replied MacTavish, who was half-lying on the made-up bed. “But after breakfast and coffee, I'll feel better and be able to go to the pub.”
“Ah, yes, the pub.” Price sighed. ”I've heard about that. I don't know if that's a good idea. I mean, we can have a drink here and not attract any unnecessary attention.”
He and Soap looked at Ghost in unison. The lieutenant remained silent, but the shadow under his hood suddenly thickened so that only his general features were visible, hiding the skull mask.
“Well, fine, a pub it is.” Price said, smiling slightly. ”Actually, that's not why I came. At the beginning of the mission, Lieutenant, you said something that caught my attention. You said you hated narcos. But why? Have you had dealings with them before?”
“Negative.” Ghost replied.
“Then why do you hate them?” Blurted out Soap, who quickly understood where Price was going with this.
“I...” The lieutenant began, but then fell silent and slowly tilted his head to one side, expressing his confusion. “I don't know.”
“I thought so.” Price nodded without a hint of surprise. “Well, then let's add that to the list of possible memories from your past life. Now, Soap, let's go have breakfast.”
“Aye, sir!” The sergeant replied, cheering up a little, and looked at Ghost. ”Lt., are you with us?”
The demon stared at him for a few seconds, then nodded and, without further instruction, took his jeans and hoodie out of his bag and went into the bathroom.
“Fucking hell.” Price muttered, then rubbed the back of his head and waved his hand, deciding not to be surprised by anything anymore.
Breakfast was included in the room rate, so Gaz and Roach were in no hurry to leave the restaurant, where a large buffet table was set. They were just deciding what else to try when they saw Price, MacTavish, and... Ghost. They were just entering the restaurant, and, of course, the inhumanly tall and burly lieutenant attracted the attention of not only his comrades-in-arms but also other guests.
“All right, Lt.” Soap said as they approached Gaz and Roach. “You sit here, and the captain and I will get something to eat for us and a cup of coffee for you, because sitting in a restaurant with nothing is strange, you know.”
“Tea.” Ghost replied unexpectedly.
“Oh... Okay, tea.” MacTavish agreed in surprise, and he and Price went to the set tables.
The captain and the sergeant silently served themselves food, and only at the table with drinks Soap lost his composure and, pouring Ghost a cup of tea, said dramatically:
“Was he really Brit in life?”
“I hope that doesn't affect your relationship.” Price snorted in response. “Who knows what he'll do if he finds out you don't love him anymore.”
“What?!” Soap protested, blushing for some reason. ”I don't...”
However, the captain didn't listen, taking his coffee and heading for their table.
It took MacTavish a few minutes to process the captain's words and his own feelings. It was obvious that he had feelings for Ghost, and he wasn't trying to hide it. But love? Maybe the captain wasn't so wrong after all? What else could the constant desire for touch and hugs when the lieutenant was nearby be but a manifestation of love? And how sweet it was to sleep in his arms last night...
“Hey, Soap, what are you doing there?” The sergeant heard Gaz's voice, turned around, pointed to the coffee machine, and then waved his hand. “Hurry up, or you'll miss an important discussion!”
Muttering curses under his breath in Scottish, the sergeant placed his coffee and the lieutenant's tea on his tray and hurried to join his friends. For a moment, everyone fell silent, watching as Ghost carefully picked up the handle of his cup with two fingers and lifted it into the air. It was a normal size, but in the lieutenant's huge hand, it looked like a tiny espresso cup.
“So, we were deciding which pub to go to.” Roach broke the silence and nudged Gaz with his elbow.
Kyle looked away from Ghost, took his phone, and started showing them the pubs he had found near the hotel. Considering all the circumstances, it had to be somewhere not too crowded, preferably with a dark interior and separate tables. The place also had to be open during the day, because the plane on which 141 would be flying back was leaving at twenty-two thirty, and it would be good if all the members of the unit showed up either completely sober or at least not obviously drunk.
“I like this one.” Soap decided, looking at photos from Google reviews. ”What do you think, Lt.?”
Ghost looked meekly at the screen of Kyle's phone turned toward him and shrugged slightly, not understanding why he was being asked such questions.
“Great!” However, MacTavish wasn't upset in the least. ”See you downstairs in an hour.”
Everyone agreed and began to stir, finishing up their food and drinks before heading to the hotel elevator.
The pub where the members of 141 arrived was almost empty at that hour. The bored waitress perked up, showed the group to a table in the corner of the room, where it was darkest, and prepared to take their order.
“Let's start with four pints of beer and a bottle of scotch.” Price said, glancing at Ghost, and added. “And one tea.”
“The big boy isn't going to drink?” The girl asked in surprise, flirtatiously glancing at the lieutenant.
“Alcohol makes him aggressive, and I'm sure no one, including us, wants to deal with him in that state.” Price said with a good-natured laugh and slapped Ghost on the shoulder.
“That's true.” The lieutenant nodded, and the waitress left.
Soon, drinks appeared on the table, and after a toast to 141 in its new composition, the sergeants began to recall various funny stories that had happened to them while on duty. Gaz was the first to speak, recounting how Roach once locked the keys to an APC inside the APC. Gary returned the favor, recalling how Garrick fell out of a helicopter and flew a couple of kilometers, dangling from a safety rope until he could be pulled back in. Continuing the helicopter theme, Soap recounted how Gaz had once dropped a rope ladder so that soldiers could climb aboard but forgot to secure it, and it fell at the feet of the unit commander, which needed to exfil.
“I refuse to take jabs from a man who blew up the wrong building during drills!” Kyle shouted indignantly, while Roach and Soap were laughing hysterically.
The waitress brought the food they had ordered: nuggets and spicy wings, French fries, crackers, burgers, and cheese fries. Despite the girl's obvious interest in Ghost, Gaz openly flirted with her, causing Price to shake his head and roll his eyes, but he had no intention of interfering. His lads had worked hard and deserved a rest, even if some of them preferred to spend their time chatting with a girl who would almost certainly reject them by the end of the evening.
“You're the same as always, never missing a skirt.” Roach snorted, glancing at Kyle.
“And this is coming from a guy who still hasn't admitted whether his partner is a man or a woman.” Garrick snorted too and reached for a nugget.
Sanderson had indeed been in a relationship with someone of Asian appearance, whose gender was impossible to determine from photographs. This fact greatly disturbed Garrick, but he was unable to find out more.
“Remember when Soap brought a girl back to the motel where we were relaxing after the mission but got so drunk that he fell asleep in the bathroom while she was waiting for him?” Gaz switched to MacTavish. “And that was our shared room!”
“That never happened.” Soap muttered, swallowing his beer angrily.
“Better remember the dog.” Gary joined in and looked at Ghost. ”Our John has been afraid of dogs since childhood. So we're walking through a ruined settlement, tracking down rebels, and then we hear barking! Soap almost climbed a tree, and it turned out to be a tiny Bologneser! Roach picked it up and drove it home, but while we were flying back to base, Soap sat as far away from him as possible!”
Gaz burst out laughing, and Roach followed suit. Price just shook his head and poured himself another glass of whiskey. Ghost looked at Soap and saw that he was pouting and not amused at all. Then the lieutenant turned his watchful gaze to the beer mugs of the other two sergeants.
“Come on, Soap, it's just a joke!” Gaz exclaimed, then grabbed his mug and fell silent.
His beer turned to ice, and the glass mug cracked. The same thing happened to Roach's drink.
“What the fuck?” Sanderson asked, confused.
“It's a joke.” Ghost explained emotionlessly, as always, and then laughed sinisterly.
Gaz and Roach fell silent, Price cursed under his breath, and Soap smiled, suddenly feeling a pleasant warmth spread through his chest from the realization that the lieutenant had stood up for him when he saw that he was upset by his friends' teasing.
When the bottle of whiskey was empty and the two sergeants' beer had thawed, Gaz spotted several lonely girls dancing to the music coming from the jukebox in the crowd that had gathered in the pub and headed toward them.
“He always leaves us.” Roach snorted, shaking his head. “Hey, Cap, what if he goes off with some girl and misses our plane?”
“No way.” Price replied. “He's drunk enough already, so he'll talk such bullshit that no girl will go with him.”
MacTavish and Sanderson started talking again, now recalling funny situations with Garrick, while Ghost looked thoughtfully at the sergeant surrounded by girls and strained his supernatural hearing. Gaz cheerfully told them that he and his friends were elite special forces soldiers, then turned back to the tall blonde and asked:
“Hey, beauty, do you have a navigator? Because I'm lost in your eyes.”
The girls laughed and pulled the sergeant toward the bar.
Meanwhile, Soap finished his beer and, yawning, leaned against Ghost's shoulder. His injury, though minor, began to ache again, and Price noticed the change in his youngest sergeant's mood.
“Maybe you should go to the hotel and get some more sleep before the flight?” He suggested, carefully hiding the concern in his voice.
“Yeah, I think you're right, Cap.” Soap replied and looked at Ghost. “Will you walk me there, Lt.?”
“But I have to pay for everything.” He reminded and took his bank card out of his pocket.
“We're leaving soon too, so let's ask for the bill now.” Price decided and waved his hand to call the waitress.
Before going to the pub, Soap explained to Ghost several times in detail how to use the card, and although it involved electronics, the lieutenant got it right the first time, which earned him congratulations from his comrades when the waitress, having received payment and even a tip, walked away from the table. Then he and Soap got up and, pushing their way through the crowd, which, however, parted at the burly Ghost quickly, stepped out into the evening coolness of the big city.
They walked in silence for a couple of minutes. MacTavish glanced at the demon from time to time, while he looked straight ahead, trying to walk more slowly so that the sergeant wouldn't have to run after him.
“Did you enjoy spending time with us?” Soap broke the silence, touching Ghost's shoulder.
“Yes.” He replied, pausing to think, as he always did when asked about his impressions or feelings.
“By the way, thanks for standing up for me and freezing those two idiots' beer,” MacTavish continued, chuckling. “I'll never forget their faces.”
“You're welcome, Johnny.” Ghost nodded, and although his voice was as emotionless as ever, he felt pleased to hear words of gratitude from Soap.
During his time at Colonel Albright's base, the demon had no idea he was capable of human feelings and reactions, but this relatively short time with 141 had changed everything. If Ghost had felt anything before, it was only anger and rage on the battlefield, but now he had learned something else. Something completely opposite, which he couldn't name because he didn't have the necessary knowledge. One thing was clear to Ghost: he really liked Johnny, and not just as a soldier, as he had during their first meeting, but as a person. Whatever it was, the demon knew that he would protect Soap and stand up for him always, whenever he needed it.
As they rode up in the hotel elevator, Ghost thought about how people tend to tell each other about their feelings. So maybe he should tell Johnny how he felt too. But how?
“Damn, I'm really tired.” Soap exhaled as he entered the room and then looked at the lieutenant. “What are you doing standing there?”
“Johnny, do you have a navigator?” Ghost asked unexpectedly, who had indeed frozen in the middle of the room, staring at Soap.
“What?” The sergeant blinked in surprise, looking at him. “Why do you need a navigator?”
“Because I'm lost in your eyes.” The demon repeated the words Gaz had said to the girl in the pub and tilted his head slightly to one side, waiting for a reaction.
MacTavish opened his mouth and then laughed, expecting anything but that. He approached, playfully nudging Ghost's shoulder with his fist, and asked:
“Where did you hear that nonsense?”
“Sergeant Garrick said it to a girl he was dancing with.” Replied the lieutenant, unsure whether laughter was appropriate in this situation. “I think he liked her.”
“So... do you like me?” Soap asked seriously, his cheeks beginning to redden.
“Yes.” Ghost nodded, not moving from the spot.
“Oh, Lt...” MacTavish took another step forward and slowly, so he could stop if he realized the demon was against it, raised his hands and pulled off his hood.
Ghost didn't move as Soap's palms cupped his mask. MacTavish stood on tiptoe, pressed down slightly on the back of the lieutenant's head, and when he tilted his head, touched his lips to the skull plate where he thought the demon's lips were. At first, Ghost didn't react, but then he pulled off his glove and ran his bare fingers across Soap's cheek. Soap exhaled sweetly, pressing himself against the lieutenant's sturdy body, then lost his balance from the amount of alcohol he had consumed, and Ghost caught him, preventing him from falling or twisting his ankle.
“You need to sleep.” The lieutenant said, turning the sergeant around by his shoulders and gently pushing him toward the bed.
“Will you keep me warm?” Soap asked, obediently sitting down and pulling off his boots.
Ghost nodded, and a few minutes later Johnny was already falling asleep in his arms. The lieutenant listened to his breathing and heartbeat and thought about what had happened in this room earlier. Did Soap's gesture mean that he liked him too? And what would happen next if that was really the case? The demon had no answers to his questions. Maybe he would ask Johnny later, when the opportunity arose. Or maybe everything would work itself out, because that sometimes happens between people, doesn't it?
When it was time to leave for the plane, Price gathered everyone together, made sure no one had forgotten anything, and they went to the exit, where a patrol car was waiting for them. Just like when they were taken to the hotel, it was a big van that could fit all five of them along with their large bags of weapons and equipment. Gaz complained the whole way that no girls had gone with him; Roach snapped back, reminding his friend that it was because he had behaved like an idiot; Soap sat quietly next to the motionless Ghost, looking at him and thinking about his confession. Like the lieutenant, he wanted to discuss it, but there would clearly be no opportunity to do so in the near future, so the sergeant sighed and rested his head on Ghost's shoulder, closing his eyes.
“Hey, Soap, at least wait until we're on the plane!” Garrick exclaimed cheerfully.
“Leave him alone, Gaz.” Price shook his head. “He's injured; let him rest.”
This time, the C-17 was carrying other soldiers being transferred from the United States to Europe in addition to the 141st. The captain sighed heavily, already imagining this bloody flight and hoping there would be no incidents. Three sergeants pulled all the bags out of the car, and Ghost silently took both his own and those belonging to Soap so that he wouldn't strain his injured shoulder.
“Thanks!” Johnny exclaimed cheerfully and punched the demon on the shoulder. ”Save you a seat, Lt.!”
Under the curious gaze of the soldiers, 141 made their way through the plane to the empty seats, and as soon as they were settled, a big cargo door closed and the pilot announced that they were ready for takeoff.