Black Swan | Ghost & König [I] ✓

chapter 8

A prison break. That's how they were planning to get Alejandro back.

After stealing a car and speeding all the way to one of Alejandro's remote safe houses, you, Soap, and Ghost snuck in the safe house. Soap almost got his head blown off by someone's rifle who was hiding inside, but luckily Ghost confirmed that it was simply just Rodolfo, and the four of you got down to business.

"We'll enter in here," Ghost said. "We'll have to be stealthy. And fast."

"While Rudy finds Alejandro, I'll be here to monitor the CCTV to help you navigate the base," Soap chimed in. "And so that you can plant charges in key areas."

"Diversions and sabotage," Ghost nodded. "Nice, Johnny."

"I learned from the best, Lt." Soap smiled for a moment, and then continued. "Once we pinpoint Alejandro and Las Vaqueros, we regroup and pry 'em loose."

"Divide and conquer," Ghost said.

"I'm useless on the ground," you said. "My leg... I can run and walk but not for too long. Once we take out the snipers on the security towers, I'll take their place and take overwatch with my rifle."

Ghost looked like he wanted to say something witty, but bit his tongue.

"We'll bring extra guns to arm my men and fight our way out the same way we came in," Rudy said. He regarded you with a curt nod. "Odile will be a huge help when it comes to our blind spots. We'll stay on radio when we move, so you can reposition yourself as needed."

You only looked at him, communicating to him through cat-eyes that you understood what he had said.

"Any questions?" said Ghosts, almost scornfully referring to you. You scrunched your nose up and looked the other direction.

"What are we waiting for?" Soap said. "Let's gear up."

The men dispersed from the table and collectively marched to the weaponry, gathering supplies and items as needed. You followed, picking up lightweight materials, seeing as you would only be a sniper in this situation, and then scavenged the room for bandages. You found a first aid kid that would be useful for rebandaging your wound and found a seat on the floor.

Like you did back at the chapel, you undid your belt and shimmied off your heavy pants, carelessly leaving you in your black underwear. Goosebumps pricked on your skin from the air exposure as you pried open the first aid kit, then proceeding to unravel the fabric that kept your wound tight and protected.

Seeing as your senses as a sniper were magnified, you could feel the stares and awkward glances coming your way from the men in the room, but they said nothing. The only one who ever spoke up about the occurrence was Ghost, who said, "She does that."

You grimaced at the nastiness of the hole in your leg as you got our some peroxide, cleaning up the blood and grime sticking to your skin. You dug through the kit and found some stitching material. Picking up the needle and stitch, you hummed your favorite song, Clair de Lune, while sewing the open wound together.

"She does that?" Soap whispered in shock.

Ghost made a "humph" sound and audibly walked away, taking magazines out of rifles and undoing the velcro on his vest to supply himself with tactical and lethal weapons. Soap must've walked away too, because you heard a second set of footsteps.

Once you were finished, you found some bandages and tape and compactly secured the wound, hobbled yourself up off the ground and dusted off your bare thighs. In your own world, you slipped your pants back on and buckled your belt together, completely and even narcissistically aware of the stare burning holes into your back.