Another day, another tedious mission. Working for Makarov has been a pain in the zhopa (ass). It has gotten especially more difficult, ever since the Task Force 141 started irking us at every step we took.
Today I was sent off with a few others to capture someone, to interrogate. As we prepare and arrive at our destination, we spread out and get into our positions. As I double check my weapons, my soldiers examine the district further with caution. The deeper we go into the wilderness, the withered, dry region is making it exhausting for us to focus on the assiged commission. The uniforms for these types of conditions is constantly tiresome, to say the least. The horizon in the distance is hardly visible, but it's possible to spot a small amount of canyons, just barely reaching cloud level. As we were about to enter the base, we see men flooding out, carrying guns. Shit is about to get real.
I swiftly take out my M-19, firing at every single person from the opposing team. Bodies were dropping like flies, one by one. As we approach closer to the entrance, I'm met with a blow to my side. I groan in pain, and turn to the ublyodok (motherfucker) who shot at me, just to see them pointing their gun at me, ready to pull the trigger again. I back away cautiously, only for them to fall to the ground recklessely. I look to see one of my comrades standing beside the body.
I let out a sigh of relief,
"Spasibo." ("Thanks.") He slowly nods before we pick up the hostage. We quickly carry them to the van. As my colleague binds the wrist, I strip him off his weapons.
As we're done, I speak into the head piece, "*Vrag zakhvachen, otstupleniye." ("Enemy captured, retreat.")
We head back to the base with the hostage held captive. I make my way to the clinic while the others escort our prisoner. The medics are tending to my injuries, carefully removing the bullet inside my arm. Blood starts dripping more continiously from the bruise to the floor, hearing every drop hitting against the stone tiles. The nurse sets the bloody tweezers carefully onto a napkin, and looks over to the table to get the rubbing alcohol and bandages. She starts cleaning and wrapping the wound. That shit hurt like hell. Trying to keep my composure in front of the nurse was to no avail, since she saw the pain in my eyes.
The nurse looked up at me, "Skol'ko raz mne pridetsya govorit' tebe, chtoby ty byl ostorozhneye? S takim zhe uspekhom ty mog by zhit' zdes'." ("How many times do I have to tell you to be careful? You might as well live here.")
I chuckled sheepishly, "Izvini." ("Sorry.")
She glares at me with a dissapointed expression, handing me a white slip of paper.
"Sdelayte pereryv." ("Take a break.") The nurse said quietly and let out a soft sigh. After that interaction, I leave the base clinic. A couple hallways down is the Second-In-Command's office. Not realising I'm taking slow steps, I slowly get up to the door and knock on the door, clear enough for him to hear. Hearing the click sound coming from the door, I open it, knowing I'm welcome in.
"Privet, Andrei." ("Hello, Andrei.") I say to him, waiting for him to answer.
"Akh, leytenant. Sadites', pozhaluysta." ("Ah, Lieutenant. Sit down, please.") Andrei points to the empty chair in front of him.
"*Davno ne videlis'*." ("Long time no see.") He turns to my wounds, looking at them in concern.
"Ya vizhu, ty ranen. Ya ne mogu pozvolit', chtoby moy luchshiy soldat umiral pryamo seychas, ne tak li?" ("I see you are injured. I can't let my best soldier die right now, can I?")
I chuckle shyly, looking down at my arm, "Akh, eto nichego. Tol'ko chto podstrelili, vse ne tak plokho, kak kazhetsya." ("Ah, it's nothing. Just got shot, it's not as bad as it seems.")
"Vy uvereny?" ("Are you sure?") Sir. Andrei asks me, not fully believing my words. I notice that he's feeling doubtful, so I start to reassuring him,
"V kontse kontsov, eto zazhivet." ("It will heal eventually.")
I turn to look at Andrei's desk and see piled up documents, full of signatures.
"Kakoye sleduyushcheye zadaniye?" ("What's the next task?")
"Oy, ty nikuda ne poydesh'." ("Oh, you're not going anywhere.") He says that with a light chuckle, knowing my intentions. I try to protest against Andrei, but he cuts me off. He's always been the type to look after his teammates.
"Ya mogu poruchit' tebe zadaniye, no..." ("I can give you a task, but...")
"No...?" ("But...?") I ask in curiousity, hoping whatever the next mission is, that it wouldn't be something I wouldn't enjoy doing.
"Poluchite informatsiyu ot zaklyuchennogo." ("Get information from the prisoner.") He said with a serious expression, implying that what he just said, was in fact not a joke.
"Zaklyuchennyy?" ("The prisoner?") I ask in confusion, knowing that's not my job to gather intel from the hostages.
"Odin zalozhnik. Novyy." ("One hostage. New one.") Andrei reassures me, though I'm not sure if that makes the situation any better. "On v kamere 069. Sleva ot vas." ("He's in Cell 069, to your left.")
I acciddentaly let out a sudden giggle, hoping Sir. Andrei didn't notice my unprofessionalism. He rolled his eyes and sighed, letting me go do my task.
I stand up from the chair, pushing it towards the front of the desk, and leaving Andrei alone once more. The door shuts behind me, leaving a couple second echo until the end of the hallway. I head left, by his intructions, and try to look for the given cell number.
It took me a good 10 minutes to locate this damn cell. Never really explored this part, if I'm being honest. When I finally make my way to the correct cell, I unlock the top part of thr door and peek inside, just to see utter darkness. To no avail, I unlock the actual door, heading inside whoever lay there. I close the door behind me, and start feeling the stone walls, hoping to find a light switch. As I feel something similar, I flick the button, and a cold white dim light appears above my head. I look in front of me and see a male dressed in black army attire, wearing a black skull balaclava. His clothing is covered in dirt blood. He's chained to the chair. Dude looks like he hasn't paid child support. (I would know.) He looks unconcious. He is unconcious. I try to wake him up by slapping him. To no surprise, he wakes up.
"Tak- ("So-) Hello..."
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𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄
chapter 2 coming out in a few days
posting this on AO3 soon
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He's Not My Lover ~ Simon Ghost Riley x Reader
Fanfiction"Torturing him is not as fun as it used to be." People change. I changed. I cannot believe I'm falling for the opposing team. The guilt I feel when passing by his cell. I seldom remember the first time I met him. Everything was different. I've got t...
