A Ghost Encounter: My Time with Simon "Ghost" Riley

Part Seventy-Nine: Scheming

"Don't be jealous," I chuckle teasingly, leaning into his ear and placing my hand on his broad chest, and whisper. "Although he was focused on me, I was focused on you."

Simon flinches, his breathing hitching, and I can feel his heart racing beneath my palm.

"I'm not," he says dismissively as he clears his throat, readjusts himself, and changes the subject, rather quickly. "Makarov has scheduled an appointment with a trusted advisor tomorrow."

"What time, and where, is the appointment?" I ask, only moving on from the flirting because the mission, unfortunately for my vagina, is the priority here.

"Flashy bastard has scheduled a moonlit dinner." Simon rolls his eyes. "They're having it on the roof of the hotel at 7:00 PM sharp."

Pfft.

"Who's this so-called 'trusted advisor'?" I nonchalantly make air quotations with my hands.

Simon takes a moment to chuckle before his tone grows serious. "Victor Zakhaev. He founded 'Zakhaev Arms', which is a weapon smuggling and gunrunning criminal organization run by Makarov's ultranationalists," he pauses, sighing. "Victor is the organization's chief executive. Every weapon that Makarov possesses is thanks to Victor Zakhaev."

Fuck me.

"Well, aren't we lucky to be blessed by such a presence?" I scoff sarcastically. Simon chuckles and shakes his head.

"And the plan is what? We crash their date?" I ask, sketching a brow.

"Precisely," Simon deadpans. "We meet with the rest of the team tomorrow morning to discuss logistics."

"Alright." I nod slowly.

A thought pops into my mind: I want to kill Makarov and everyone associated with him—I hate them all.

Soap was killed on Makarov's orders, by his men. If I'm feeling this way, I begin to can't imagine how Simon and Price are feeling.

"Simon?" I call out his name softly, realizing that while I zoned out, so did he.

My heart aches as I can safely assume what Simon was thinking about.

"Hmm?" His blank eyes meet mine, blinking slowly as his mind comes back to focus.

"Do you think you're ready? I mean, to face Makarov...after what happened?" I ask cautiously.

The last thing I want to do is push Simon too hard into being vulnerable by speaking about his feelings.

He ponders for a moment.

"Yes," Simon responds distantly. "I'm ready to be rid of him."

Agreed.

"What's the plan after this mission? I know I'm technically on house arrest..." I roll my eyes. "But what about you?"

"Are you asking if I'll join another mission?" He turns his entire attention toward me, meeting my eyes.

I nod softly.

"And if I am?" A loaded question.

"If you are...then you are." I pause for a moment then suggest, "Maybe it would be a good idea to take some time off."

"Why? Because my friend died?" he deadpans, his tone cold.

I won't get upset or make this about myself. Simon's clearly hurting, which is precisely my point. He needs time away to grieve, and to heal.

"Yes," I take a steady breath, suppressing my emotions. "I think we all could use a break."