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

Part Seventy-Nine: Scheming

"Life moves on with or without us. A break is unnecessary," Simon counters rather defensively, and dismissively.

"Alright," I sigh softly.

I'm not going to fight him on this one, not right now at least.

Maybe he'll change his mind when we return to base. Maybe I can convince him that he's not just a machine for his country and he's allowed to rest.

That he deserves to rest.

- TIME SKIP -

7:15 AM

It's the next morning and Ghost and I meet with the rest of 141 at a restaurant across the street from Hotel Oasis.

There's still an uncomfortable tension in the air, especially around Captain Price. He's making it painfully obvious that he's still upset with me.

Sitting down at the table, Price says to the group, "We have about 12 hours until Makarov and Victor meet up for their little date. We'll need to address our plans."

"And what were we thinking?" Ghost leans back in his seat and crosses his arms.

Price makes direct, steel-like eye contact with me and then loosens a deep, raspy breath, "Can I trust you to follow my commands?"

I tense, my face growing warm.

Price's fiery isolation on me, everyone's eyes on me, makes me want to crumble.

At least König is looking at me with loyal sympathy. The man deserves a medal for all the ways he's defended me and worked to protect my mental well-being on this mission.

"You can," I attempt to deadpan, but my tone is too icy.

Price notices this.

"I will not give you a third chance," he deadpans his only warning.

I wonder how many chances Ghost, Soap...or anyone has had, if any.

"I've learned my lesson," I scoff but I mean it.

"Let's hope so," Captain Price nearly growls. "And that doesn't invalidate your punishment."

Of course, it doesn't.

"I'm aware." I cross my arms.

"Good," he sighs and shakes his head like he's going to regret what he's about to say. "Because we need you to lead this mission."

Not again...

I sketch a brow, giving him a dry look.

"Makarov is a fickle man fond of flashy things. On the roof of the hotel is a helicopter pad. Victor will be flying in on one of Makarov's helicopters." The Captain pauses. "The plan is to kill the pair and use the helicopter to escape."

"And I come in where?" I ask impatiently.

"The killing part," Price says in a duh manner. "They're having dinner. Someone has to serve them."

"I'm assuming that's me," I ask incredulously.

"Smart girl," he smiles mockingly, patronizingly. "You'll be poisoning their dishes."

"Two questions: first, why me? And second, what poison?" I ask, now flustered, as my mind scrambles with unwanted fears.

"We've fought Makarov before. He knows what we look like," Price smirks smugly. "Oh, but he's never seen you before."

Rolling my eyes, I say, "And my other question?"

"Rat poison," Captain Price informs.

Creative...

"And if I pull this off successfully you'll stop treating me like a leper?" I arch a brow.

Blind arrogance in the place of fear.

The crooked smile on Price's face is nothing short of disturbing.

"You have my word," he barely manages to let out through gritted teeth.

"This plan is great and all but how do I convince the hotel to let me play dress-up as a waitress?" I huff.

"Sneak in. Borrow someone's uniform," Ghost responds instead, interrupting Price and I's stare down.

I'd forgotten Ghost, Laswell, and König are here with us. I can't really describe it but whenever Price speaks to me—upset or not—I'm completely enthralled.

"Right." I nod at Ghost but then turn my attention back to the group. "And if we're EVACing with the helicopter doesn't that mean you'd all need to be on the rooftop too?"

"We will be," Laswell cuts in. "Near it, at least."

Laswell must have predicted my next question as she says, "Before Makarov and Victor get there, the rest of us will go up to the roof of the hotel with our rappelling gear. We'll stay suspended until you give us the signal that they've eaten the contaminated food and we'll climb back up."

Hotel. Ahmad. Hassan. Darya.

"If he stops then I'll rape you right here, right now, in front of him."

Rappelling. 54th floor. Missiles. Shepherd.

"No one can know about my or the Shadow Team's connection to the missiles. So you and all the Neanderthals at the Task Force are going to have to disappear."

Signal. Bomb. Blood. Soap.

"I never stopped loving you, you know?"

Dammit, brain. Please don't do this to me right now...

Without realizing it, I've shut my eyes and clenched my fists.

"Roberts?" Laswell calls my name firmly—bringing me back to reality—at the same time König worriedly says, "Schatz?"

Ghost shoots the Austrian a pointed glare that doesn't last more than a second.

"Yes?" I shake my head softly to regain my focus. My heart is racing and my face is warm.

"Are you alright?" she asks cautiously, her eyes assessing.

"Yup." Which isn't convincing at all.

Although she can tell I'm bullshitting, she says—barely able to control the look of worry in her eyes, "Find a way to not only access a waitress uniform but be the waitress to serve them." Laswell orders fiercely, insinuating that if we don't get this right—if I don't get this right—then we'll lose our opportunity to kill our biggest threat. "The rest of us will make way for the rooftop at 6:00 PM. At 6:45 PM we'll begin our rappel."

Laswell has always carried herself with such confidence, such authority. Of everyone on the team, she's the one I admire the most. A woman in a male-dominated field, commanding them, and not the other way around.

"You ready, Sergeant?" A very loaded question from Price.

With a wry smile, I feign confidence. "Yes, sir."