Chapter Text
Nov, 2021
– The boys get injured over and over on missions, Laswell. We need to fix that or it’ll start becoming a problem. A real one, – Price started, placing his cup of coffee on the table as he sat down.
Kate stared at him, an eyebrow raised as he spoke. Her mind started to analyze their choices for that problem, which the first thought was a medic or a nurse, the simple ones, no?
– Not a nurse though, – he said before she could open her mouth, like he read her thoughts. – I need someone who is able to take on missions, capable of fighting and looking out for my soldiers at the same time.
The noise of the empty café seemed to start increasing its noise, though maybe it was just the silence between the two adults. Laswell held his gaze, staying silent as she looked into all the possible roles of what John described. Medical branch but also capable of combatting in the battlefield or taking on missions. Think, Laswell. Think.
– A combat medic might be what you’re looking for, John, – Kate answered, arms crossed as she laid out the choice for him.
– Yes! A combat medic. – the word rolled over his tongue, like he was trying to taste it.
– You should talk about this with your soldiers, listen to what they think about it, – she suggested, letting her arms drop as she checked the time.
Price nodded, acknowledging her proposal as he found the logic in it. He grabbed his cup and took a sip, the bitter taste coating his taste buds. He let his mind wander off, planning how to tell the boys about his decision to integrate a combat medic.
After a few minutes passed and Price’s cup emptied, both of them prepared to leave as London’s humid air decreased its temperature. They exchanged a look and a nod.
– You’re a lifesaver, Laswell, – he thanked before leaving the café.
The cold air hit his face as he walked away, pulling out his car keys. He entered his car, inserting the key to start the engine as he placed his hands on the wheel to drive back to the base. His gaze remained fixated on the dimly lit road. Tonight was really quiet.
Back at the base, Ghost, Soap and Gaz were found in the lounge room. Although Soap and Gaz chatted blissfully, Ghost remained organizing FMJ ammo for the next training. As Price stepped into the room, they all glanced at him. Soap was the first to talk.
– Where’d ye go, Captain? – he questioned, his accent thick.
– Business with Laswell, sergeant, – John answered, standing in front of a table as he looked at the three of them. – Got some news for you.
His words fully caught their attention, eyebrows rising up at his announcement. News always was either good or bad, no in-between in this work life.
– We’re all ears, Price, – Gaz interjected.
– I’m planning on adding a combat medic to the team, – Price explained, noticing their surprised reactions. – It might seem too extra for you boys, but getting injured compromises the mission. And a combat medic is still capable of taking on tasks.
The silence stretched in the room, the trio exchanging quick looks. Their minds seemed to be thinking the same before Ghost spoke up.
– If that’s what you think is the best, – he vaguely responded to Price’s explanation, his focus back on arranging the ammo.
– Have ye found one, Cap? – Soap inquired, letting his weight sink into the leather couch.
Jonathan shook his head, taking off the jacket and hanging it on the coat hook near him.
– I need those files about these combat medics, General Shepherd might have those, – Price clarified, smoothing his shirt and adjusting the cuffs. – I’ll request them.
– I’ve worked with one in my deployment in the SAS before, Sergeant Rosewood. If she’s available, you want her, – Gaz added, recalling his past assignment with her.
– I’ll have that in mind, Gaz, – Price credited.
Soap let out a chuckle after hearing Gaz’s words, noticing the pronouns he used.
– Oi, a lass? – he remarked, lifting his eyebrows with his signature smile. – Some diversity on the team, I like that.
– Quit it, Johnny, – Ghost hissed.
– Ye’re no fun, – Soap protested with a huff.
Price sighed at their interaction as he headed to his office, turning on the lights. The room was a contrast from the vivid common room, a comfortable silence that offered peace for thoughts. Price stepped into the quietness, shutting the door close behind him as he moved with efficiency, opening his laptop as he wrote to Shepherd.
– I’ll request her firstly to avoid wasting time, – he murmured to himself as he typed on his keyboard.
General Shepherd,
I'm requesting access to the personnel records of Sergeant Rosewood.
Sergeant Garrick has spoken highly of her, recalling his SAS deployment that required working with her in a mission or unit. Before making any recommendations regarding potential attachment to Task Force 141, I'd like to review her personnel military file.
Forward the file at your earliest convenience.
Regards,
Captain Jonathan Price
And send.
Price leaned back in his chair, staring at the door. A new integration seemed… odd. But if it’s necessary, then it’ll be done.
As the sun rose up from the east, the morning light entered through the window’s glass into the space. With a cup of coffee, Price sat down, checking his mailbox. A reply popped up, following Sheperd’s address. He clicked into it.
RE: Personnel file request
Captain Price,
Attached is Sergeant Alexandra Rosewood’s personnel file. One of the finest combat medics, her records speak for itself.
Any additional documentation required, let me know
One attachment
General Shepherd
Price analyzed the files, reading every record, personnel, technical, and medical. Her service with the Royal Army Medical Corps and Special Air Services was what caught his attention, as his eyebrows rose. 13 years of active service. That wasn’t something you saw everyday. He leaned back, finding himself reading it twice. He took a sip of the bitter, steaming brew that would keep him awake. He scrolled down, assessing every record with much concentration. He brought the rim of the cup to his lips, letting the steam blur his vision for a moment. This was it. He reached for his phone, dialing Laswell. As she picked up the call, he placed down his coffee.
– Bring me Sergeant Rosewood, as soon as possible, Laswell.
–two days later–
Alexandra stood in front of the door, hesitating. She straightened her posture and smoothed out her clothes, grooming her appearance to look as proper as possible. With a deep breath, she raised her hand and knocked three times. She shouldn’t be that nervous, it was just an encounter.
– Come in. – the voice behind the door called out.
She reached for the doorknob and turned it as she pushed. The man behind the desk seemed to be in his late thirties, his posture relaxed but with the commanding hint. His short brown hair and neatly kept mustache framed his stern expression, while his blue eyes carried a quiet attentiveness. There was nothing flashy about him, only that kind of presence that made a room fall silent without any words spoken. A faint admiration crossed her mind before snapping out of thought.
– Captain, – she greeted politely, keeping her tone steady.
– Sergeant Rosewood, – he responded, closing his laptop that had her file open.
– Reporting as asked.
Price kept his gaze anchored to her, evaluating her in silence. She was firm and polite, the kind of person that he approved. He already read her document, knew her experience. Now, he needed to see her.
– Tell me, now that you’ve agreed to this transferment, what do you expect from Task Force 141, sergeant? – he questioned, leaning back with his arms crossed.
– I don’t anticipate any special treatment, I expect an equal treatment and earn your respect and trust, – she answered modestly, her hands placed on her back as she met his gaze. – I await for efficient teamwork and communication, captain.
He nodded in acknowledgment, approving her response. Meek and straight to the point, he liked that.
– Aside from your expedient, why did you join the military? – he continued.
– Although enlisting offered financial stability and retirement benefits, my reason for joining mainly aimed for personal growth and serving with honour, captain.
For a moment, the ticking of the clock became strangely noticeable as Price reached for a paper beside him. Alexandra stared at him, waiting for another question or, in the worst case, being rejected. The sound of the turning papers seemed to fill the space, and it kept her anxious.
– Welcome to Task Force 141, sergeant, – Price broke the silence, meeting her gaze with a respectful smile.
– A pleasure to work with you, captain, – Alexandra affirmed as he stood up.
– I’ll get you to know the members before you finally settle in.
He led the way through the base, Alexandra following close from behind. Her eyes scanned the practical and strict structure, maintaining a defensive control with surveillance cameras. Through the corridors of the secure military base in Hereford, she noticed some pictures from honorificable figures throughout the United Kingdom history. The sound of the door being pushed brought her out of thought, focusing back on reality. Both of them stepped into the common room.
– Alright, listen up! – he exclaimed, looking at the three of them as he caught their attention. – As I explained days ago, a combat medic will be joining us, Sergeant Alexandra Rosewood. Callsign Whiskers, or Whisk for short.
As expected from Price, Soap was the one to approach her, a smile plastered on his face as he stretched his hand towards her.
– John Mactavish, but call me Soap, – he greeted as Alexandra shook his hand.
– Pleasure meeting you, Soap.
It amused her his callsign, it had a hint of a joke. Soap. A bar of soap. Shut it, Alex.
– Alexandra? – Gaz called out, his back all straightening as he met her gaze.
– Kyle? – she answered before letting out a brief laugh, recognizing that appearance. What were the odds of meeting him again?
Gaz stood up, grinning as they clasped before pulling each other into a brief one-armed hug, patting their shoulder as they resembled the trust they already had years ago.
– He was the one who recommended you, – Price added, watching their familiar interaction.
– Ah, really? Was I that good? – she teased lighthearted as she pulled away.
Kyle let out a scoff, shoving a hand into his pockets. She looked at the quiet one, their eyes meeting.
– Ghost, – he simply introduced himself.
– Whisk, – she responded, giving him an acknowledging nod.
The captain gave a quick look before leaving, knowing she’d fit well.
– I’ll give you a quick tour though the base, – Kyle offered as he stepped into her space.
– Oi, Gaz! Don’t be hoggin’ her all to yerself! – Johnny protested teasingly, accent thick and loud.
– You’ll have your moment to bore her with your words, Scotsman – he replied with the exact level of tease.
Soap placed his right hand over his chest, feigning being wounded by his words. The tan skinned man placed his hand on Alexandra’s shoulder and guided out of the common room. She felt more at ease now that she met with someone she already worked with and had trust. Garrick showed her all the installations with brief explanations, letting her observe each detail before moving onto the next room. As they walked through the halls, Alexandra noticed some Special Air Service tags placed on walls, assuming this base was allied from the SAS or under their custody. Effective. He led her to the rooftop, the sky over them looked like a colorful canvas, painted with glowing streaks of coral and amber, with the sun melting into the horizon and those final rays illuminating the landscape.
– And this is the rooftop, – he pointed out, though it was already clear.
– Hm, the view is beautiful, – she mentioned, observing the sunset and then the surrounding forest.
– Agreed. – he took a pause, his lips tugging up slightly. – It’s good to see you again, Rosewood.
– Likewise, Garrick, – she answered, a strand of her hair flowing with the gush of cold air. – I look forward to working with you again.