Author's Note: If you have any writing tips, please feel free to comment.
Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills as a writer.
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Chapter 23
Oh my God
Please help me, waist-deep in the river, can you hear my plea?
He says, son, you come like a beggar in the streets
You might make it, boy, but by the skin of your teeth
You might make it, boy, but by the skin of your teeth...
Bartholomew, The Silent Comedy
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"What the hell are you doing here?!" gasped MacTavish.
"I thought I'd come and visit you."
Michael Vaughn walked out of the shadows wearing the usual smirk on his face. His hair wasn't bouncy anymore but stood flat on his head; he was wearing a torn t-shirt and jeans stained with something dark. However, his stare was still the same. That icy cold gaze that sends you chills down your spine.
MacTavish kept alert. He ignored the pain in his abdomen and tried to move, but it was impossible. He gritted his teeth and was furious with himself.
"Feeling helpless, Captain?" grinned Vaughn.
"How did you get out?"
"When you have friends in high places, everything is possible," Vaughn said as he paced around the room. "I have to say that Lisa has lost a bit of friends along my escape route."
He shrugged and grimaced mockingly. He laughed and turned his attention to him.
"She's here, isn't she? I glanced at her window," said Vaughn. "She was sleeping peacefully."
"Don't you bloody think in going near her you bastard!" growled MacTavish.
Vaughn chuckled. The idiot thinks he can protect her and he can barely move. He'll show him. Nobody can stop him.
"What are you going to do? Fight me? Oh right, you cannot even move," he mocked him.
"Why are you doing this?"
"Nobody fucks with me. Nobody!" hissed Vaughn. "Let me tell you my little plan Mac."
MacTavish's nostrils flared. He hated people who called him that; especially coming from this bloody sucker.
"I won't hurt you," he continued, "so don't worry about it. Quite the contrary, I want you to get healthy and get back on your feet to live a fulfilling life."
Where was he going with this?
"However, I can't say that I will be doing the same for Lisa," he grinned.
"No..."
"I hope you can live with that Mac. Enjoy your life."
Vaughn grabbed the Grach that was hidden under his t-shirt and slid back the slide. He smirked one last time at MacTavish and went out of the room.
MacTavish yelled and pressed the assistance button, hoping that a nurse will come in time. He pulled the bed covers back and rolled on his side and fell flat on the floor. He moaned in pain and cursed. He was not going to make it in time...
![Bitter Allies [Soap x Reader] by Emily7love](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/369507207-80-k443174.jpg)
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Malloy was staring at the ceiling and huffed. The boredom felt worse than her injuries. Insomnia was creeping in every inch of her head increasing her paranoia and nausea. A pile of books stood on her bedside table but she had read them from cover to cover for how many times she could remember.
She was sleeping serenely until something woke her up. An uneasy feeling at the back of her mind forced her to open her eyes. She did not know what that feeling was but she was going to find out soon enough.
A shadow passed in front of her room and her mind was attentive at once. The door opened and someone walked in.
"What the hell?" she murmured.
"Hey Lisa," Vaughn jeered.
Malloy was gobsmacked. She was certain that Vaughn was being held in a remote location with very tight security. There was no way he could have managed to escape without any help in spite of being an ex-SEAL.
She observed the gun he was holding. The MP 443 Grach; a semi-automatic pistol housing 9x19mm Parabellum cartridge usually used by Russian forces. It was probably handed it to him by whoever rescued him.
'It was someone Russian,' she thought. 'Jeez, I wonder who that could be.'
"You came here to kill me, didn't you?" Malloy sighed.
"You were always smart, I admired that in you," Vaughn said as he paced around the room.
He observed her pitiful state. He wanted a fight. He wanted to take her out with a bang. But this will have to do.
"Be over with it," she said, grasping her bed sheets tightly.
"You don't look afraid, yet your eyes are showing only fear and pain."
"Are you here to get the job done or fuckin' talk?"
Vaughn smiled and gripped the Grach tightly. That was the moment he was waiting for. First, Malloy, then her father. The Army will be devastated to lose a four-star general. Lastly, the world.
He stood at the end of her bed and pointed the gun at her. He switched the safety lock-off and gazed into her sparkling, green eyes one last time.
"I guess this is goodbye then."
"I'll see you in hell," she snarled.
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Mr. Gilson was looking at seven open files in front of him. He rubbed his hands together and smiled. Seven red stamps reading 'dishonorable discharge' was plastered on the faces of the ex-Elite Task Force. It was nothing personal. He simply had something else in mind. A better Task Force.
He turned around and looked outside. The trees were swaying with the wind and the soldiers were walking rather hurriedly to cross the base to get to meetings, training or other appointments. Gilson chuckled. He never would have guessed that he would have been in that position. Some idiots saw fit that he was the best choice to be in charge of the Board which controlled the most important decisions on base.
"Mr. Gilson, Captain Thompson is here," he heard his secretary say.
"Let her in please."
The door opened and a soldier wearing a US Army uniform walked in. She stood at attention as her steely gaze was fixed straight ahead. Her black hair was tied back neatly emphasizing her square jaw and hollow cheeks. Her thin lips were pursed together under a long nose.
"Captain Thompson reporting for duty as requested."
"Take a seat please."
Her beady, black eyes rested on Gilson and smiled as she sat down elegantly. She had waited for this moment for ages.
