The Ghost of Task Force 141 [Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader]

Blood Atop Fresh Snow

"There's a clearing, not too far North of where you're headed, Splinter. Make it there, I'll throw down the ladder," Price's voice boomed through the speaker in your right ear, as your eyes scanned the hazed green surroundings through your night vision. Just through the trees, you spotted them thinning out into a clearing. 

"Eyes on, advancing towards it now," you puffed, picking up the speed. 

Soap trailed along behind you, as he covered for Ghost, now making his way to the two of you. 

Bullets still whizzed through the trees; none so far having hit any of their intended targets. At least, out of all of the spilled blood of the night, none of it was your colleagues. You furrowed your brows, determined to get to that damned ladder. 

The whirring of helicopter blades slicing the air, your own breathing, coupled with gunshots were all you focus on. A headache thrummed in the back of your head, as your eyes strained to make out what was in front of you. The residual events of what had happened throughout the day were starting to take their toll. 

You pressed your eyes shut, as you continued to stumble forward. You were almost there. 

Your eyes flew open as you stared up at the white blanket laden trees, noticing the helicopter hovering not too far from where you were shuffling towards. 

Your head flicked back over to Soap, and then to Ghost, who was still taking up the flank. 

"Shit, they've passed the laid over pine tree," Soap yelled, his accent thick as a slice of panic was spread throughout his voice. 

Soap broke out into a sprint, and you did so as well. 

The crunch of the snow between your feet and the tree whizzing past you filled your mind, the rest going blank. Ghost ran as well, easily catching up to the two of you, still clutching his gun, simultaneously turning back and returning fire. 

Bullets hit the trees just in front of you, and you ducked down, weaving through the long stalks, making sure not to get hit. They grazed your skin, leaving fresh cuts of warm blood dripping down, a stark contrast to the winter night. 

You gritted your teeth as you kept running, soon breaking out of the forest and into the clearing. 

"Go, go, go!", Soap called, pushing you in front of him more as you raced to the ladder. 

Your gloves gripped the rope ladder as you quickly began advancing up it, one step at a time. Your eyes glanced up as you climbed, spotting Price leaning over the open door to the helo, gun in his hand, as spurts of fire released into the tree line below, lighting the area around him every time a bullet left the chamber. 

Soap started his ascent as well, the ladder shaking as you almost reached the top. Bullets began cutting into the rope, as the reinforcements drew closer. 

"Get your arse up here!" Price yelled, as he aimed and shot. 

He lowered his gun, offering his hand to you as you reached the top. You grasped it, gloved hand in his, as he yanked you inside, with you quickly strapping yourself in, as you clutched your gun. 

Your seat was right next to the open door, so you immediately poised your gun, covering as Soap scrambled up the ladder, Ghost right behind him. 

"Fuck," you muttered, as you zoomed in on the troop down below, caking the ground in black specs, clearly shown from the harsh white of the snow. You aimed and took your shots wisely. 

Soap clambered into the cabin of the helo, quickly pulling himself up, with Price's help, before taking his own seat. 

Price banged the side of the helo, and it began rising, helicopter blades spinning fast as it lifted off into the sky.