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“Sir, the exit’s still snowed in, no chance we can drive out” Chemo radioed in from up front, having gone ahead with Diver to check if they could get a car out. MacTavish sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to stop a flow of profanities leaving his mouth. This entire operation was a fucking headache; he couldn’t wait for it to be over so he could collapse into his own bed, which may not be very comfortable but was better than the concrete floor he’d slept on for the last three nights.
“Copy, return to the rally point. We’ll figure something else out.”
At the information, Riley glanced up from where he had been sitting on the roof of the humvee, sharing a look of annoyance with MacTavish at the idea of spending any longer in the shithole.
The tunnel was beyond grim; the build up of near constant condensation had caused decompression of the structure, making the place not entirely the safest, and their only form of light source was torches and the glowsticks Ghost kept in his vest for emergencies. Riley was the only one in the unit to bother with the things, and MacTavish was increasingly glad for it every time they ended up in a situation like this one. The tunnel was blanketed in a red glow, which was dimming as the stick came to the end of its life, but it still provided enough light to see everything in their immediate vicinity.
Around him, the other members of the task force were in various states of disarray. Most were spread out on the ground, asleep. Aside from Chemo and Diver, it was only Ghost and himself awake. Blankets and extra jackets had been dug up from the bottoms of rucks, the humvee had been pulled apart the previous night in search of extra ration packs, to which they found two stale MREs and half a bottle of water. It was hardly going to feed a unit of grown men- and Diver - so they had to find a way to get out of there soon.
MacTavish eyed the car, wondering just how snow it could plough through without grinding to a halt. They’d dropped in with two humvees, but one had broken in the cold; parts of the engine had frozen in place and snapped off when they tried to get it to start. So he wasn’t too hopeful for the moment they had to turn the ignition of this one on.
A snowstorm had put an end to the exfil that had been set to pick them up from an agreed upon point, the brass unwilling to put a bird in the air when the chances were it would suffer in the extreme conditions and crash under the added weight of a whole unit. Therefore, until the weather cleared up or the brass changed their minds, nobody was coming to rescue them.
He resisted the urge to groan, knowing the sound would echo, and instead collapsed into the passenger's seat of the humvee; unwilling to sit on the ground after he’d let Roach borrow his blanket while the other man slept. Sanderson had been shivering violently by the time they’d set up camp for the night, thus had needed the extra warmth more than MacTavish, who was wearing two jackets, a hoodie and a thermal under layer.
Suddenly Riley appeared in the driver’s seat opposite, holding a map he’d seemingly made appear from nowhere, a new glowstick and a cigarette in his other hand.
“Want one?” Ghost asked, tossing the box onto the console that separated them. Strictly speaking, they shouldn’t be smoking in the car, but it wasn’t like anyone was going to tell them not to. With a nod of gratitude, he tugged a cigarette free and wordlessly accepted the lighter Ghost passed him. It was the same style of lighter he’d seen Simon use since they’d first met a little over two years ago. The letters SR were scratched into the side of the metal, the indent long since smoothed over under his fingers from constant use.
He lit up the cigarette as Riley unfolded his map, spreading it out against the steering wheel in such a way that looked as though it really shouldn’t work yet still somehow did.
“Y’know, these tunnels look like they have another exit.”
MacTavish leant over the console to inspect what Ghost was pointing at. Looking closer, what he’d thought was a map was in fact, not. It was rather a blueprint of the abandoned town above them. Following Riley’s finger he noticed that the tunnel they were in connected to a network a little further up.
“Aye, seems so. But if we’re snowed in, surely the hatches will be too?”
“Not this one-“ Riley guided MacTavish’s gaze to an exit hatch about a kilometre and a half to the west. “It's placed under an old hangar building. Unless it can snow indoors, I think that’s our escape.”
“That’s, actually quite smart.
~+~
It was around noon by the time the 141 had reached the supposed location of the hatch. Royce had fought with the humvee for around an hour to get the thing to start, then it had refused to move at more than two miles an hour. Realistically, it would have been faster to walk, but nobody wanted to lug a ton of kit anywhere if they could help it.
“Right, we should be here. Where’s the exit?”
“Your eyes work as well as mine, look for it.”
“Yeah yeah- whatever. I can’t see it.”
“Over there!”
MacTavish sighed with relief at the sight of the hatch. It was accessible via a ladder. The metal of the rungs had rusted, leaving it looking more than a little sketchy, but it was better than staying in the tunnel any longer.
“Who wants to go first?” Chemo asked, looking apprehensively at the ladder. “Diver?”
“I’ll pass, thanks for the offer though.”
After a few minutes of debate, Sandman ended up risking it first, attempting to put his weight on the metal structure. It held relatively well, only groaning in complaint a few times as the lieutenant carefully moved upwards. MacTavish watched with a careful eye as Sandman pushed the hatch open at the top and then disappeared from view as he scrambled out.
Everyone followed Sandman’s example until it left just Riley and MacTavish to go. He glanced over at Ghost, who was watching expectantly for him to go first.
“Well done, you did good” He murmured quietly, just loud enough for Simon to hear. His hand found Ghost’s shoulder and he patted it twice before pulling away and climbing up the ladder.
“Bloody hell, it’s white out here.” Archer stated, looking out towards the airfield that connected to the hangar. The cold hit MacTavish immediately, if he’d thought it was cold before, it was Baltic now. He shivered, cool air filtering through his clothes in a rather uncomfortable way.
“Looks like Christmas”
“Wonder how deep the snow is?”
“You're welcome to find out.”
Everyone spread out, going to look for resources- or to play in the snow. Diver and Archer had started chucking snowballs at each other, quickly dragging the rest of the unit into their silly game. MacTavish watched from the sidelines as his soldiers messed around like children. He smiled fondly, it wasn’t often you could find moments of release in their line of work- especially in the middle of an op - so if it had to be in the snow somewhere in Romania then so be it.
However, his fondness only lasted right up until a snowball hit him on the shoulder, the sludge separating and dripping down his coat.
“Sorry, I was aiming for Chemo- Sir..” Sandman apologised, barely even flinching as somebody else chucked some snow at the back of his head.
“Hm. We’ll see about that.” He muttered, bending down to gather a ball of snow into his gloves; Sandman barely had time to react before he lobbed it at him, meaning it hit him square in the chest.
Once Sandman- and the others- realised he wasn’t actually mad, MacTavish quickly found himself partaking in the game. He wasn’t sure how it happened, just that people started to aim for him, and he aimed back.
Their fun lasted for a few more minutes until the familiar sound of helicopter blades pierced the air around them. Was that an enemy? Everybody dropped the game instantly, hands immediately going to rifles as they aimed to identify where the noise was coming from.
MacTavish found it a few moments later. A helicopter that had been sitting innocently on the airfield had begun to wind up. The blades turned quicker as the engine warmed up.
“Where’s Ghost?” Roach asked, looking around the group for the second lieutenant and not finding him.
MacTavish did the same, when he didn’t find the familiar balaclava somewhere amongst the others faces his concern grew tenfold. Where had the bastard disappeared to now?
Suddenly, their radios crackled to life and Riley’s voice filtered over.
“I think I found an escape. Over.”
No, it couldn't be. MacTavish looked back at the helicopter again, it wasn’t taking off; instead it was just sitting there, like it was waiting for something. Or someone.
“Don’t tell me that’s you.”
“I’m full of surprises, sir.”
Quickly, the 141 ran towards the vehicle, clambering aboard with no hesitation. If they could get out of here, then they were absolutely going to try.
MacTavish joined Riley in the cockpit, the others wordlessly understanding it was the correct course of action. He found the other man fiddling with the controls, tapping on what looked like a fuel gauge.
“Do you even know how to use this?” He asked quietly, sitting down in the copilot's seat and glancing out to the abandoned town around them.
“I was licensed for two years, before I let the thing lapse.”
Logically, MacTavish knew he shouldn’t have been surprised. Riley was full of surprises, the lieutenant housed a myriad of talents that you’d only find out about during the most obscure moments. Like the time Ghost had re-wired a tank when they needed the armor to get out of a sticky situation.
“And how long ago was that?”
“Four years.”
“Reassuring.”
Ghost jerked the stick back and the helicopter lurched into the air, the ground steadily growing further and further away. MacTavish grabbed the handle above his head in fear, he estimated the ride was going to be anything but smooth.
He turned to look at Ghost, as the other man grinned triumphantly at him as they began to move. His sunglasses had been taken off and hooked onto his collar, leaving his eyes exposed for MacTavish to see. They crinkled at the corners where he smiled, and the captain found himself smiling back.
“Relax Sir, we’re not going to crash.” Ghost teased, noticing his stiffness.
“Ill believe it when I see it.”
“Hey Ghost, I didn't know you had a pilots license?” One of the guys called from the back over the low chatter and rumble of the helo.
“I don’t!”
As Ghost didn’t expand, everybody erupted into screams of horror; shouting over each other in their fear as the helo picked up speed, heading out towards the mountains.
“Riley that’s mean.” He hissed quietly, unable to completely conceal his laughter. Ghost was a meddling bastard at the best of times, downright evil at the worst.
Simon turned to look at him, eyes squinted in an evil smile, mischief reflecting back at MacTavish. His shoulders were shaking with silent laughter as they shared a look.
“You might want to hang on.”
“Simon-!” He was almost sure of what Riley was about to do, so he quickly grabbed anything solid he could hang on to.
Ghost jerked the stick to the left, sending the bird banking sharping over. Everyone was thrown out of their seats and another round of screams erupted from their passengers.
MacTavish shook his head. This man was going to be the death of him.
~+~
They did make it home in the end, and without incident. Ghost landed them safely on the helicopter pad of Credenhill, much to everybody’s surprise and great relief. It wouldn’t have been optimal to die on the last leg of their mission after all.
“No offence Ghost, but I never want to be in a helicopter that you're flying ever again.” Archer mumbled as he jumped off the skid, hitting the ground with a sigh of relief.
“None taken.” Ghost laughed from where he was standing on the edge of the tarmac, waiting for MacTavish to finish talking with the ground crew.
It was later that night, when everybody was asleep, that MacTavish found Riley in the rec room and he learnt the lieutenant had just been playing them the whole time and he had, in fact, been licensed to fly helicopters for the better part of seven years.
“You’re a menace.”
“Mm, but I’m your menace.” Ghost mumbled sleepily, dropping his head onto MacTavish’s shoulder as sleep pulled him under. MacTavish sighed and threw an arm around his shoulders, one day. He thought. One day he would know everything there is to know about the man named Simon Riley.