A/N: Here’s chapter 2! I’ve had so much fun writing this so far and I’m really excited to see where it’s gonna go!
C/W: mild cursing, some mentions of discrimination based on country of birth
Without further ado, lets dive in
Masterlist
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Scotland.”
“Finally,” Soap groans from the seat in front of her, unclipping his seatbelt and rising to his feet. “Thought A was gonna lose feelin’ in my legs.”
Ghost huffs from his spot in the seat beside her. “Quit your bitchin’, Johnny.”
She nods in agreement, waiting for the lieutenant to rise from his spot in the aisle seat before following suit. Standing after having to sit in a cramped space for so long is a welcome relief. She wished they were able to wear civvies for the flight though. As comfortable as these cargos she was wearing were normally–they were her favorites for that reason–they didn’t compare to the thermal leggings she had been wanting to wear. At least she could wear a beanie her dad had gifted her for Christmas the year prior.
“Language, Simon.”
Grizzly chuckles at the way Price was tiredly speaking to the taller man, and she’s reminded faintly of how her father would speak to her and the rest of her siblings when they’d get themselves in trouble.
They exit the plane, each of them carrying a bag with things to amuse them during their flight and also items which they didn’t want to have with their luggage. Their actual luggage was all checked–due to the size and weight of their duffles none of them wanted to go through the trouble of dragging it on the plane with them–and needed to be retrieved. Soap leads the way, steering them through the airport with ease stemming from landing at this airport so many times.
They were actually going to be conducting business near his residence, so they in essence had their own personal guide to keep them from getting lost.
The airport is bustling with activity, people hurrying across the white floors to catch their flights. Their group gains a few stares–probably from the cargos and the military issue boots they all wore-but Grizzly pointedly ignores them. She elects to focus on Soap and how out of place the three Brits and herself were going to sound wandering around the hills of Scotland. It inspires a fight within herself to keep a smile from breaking out, only imagining the expressions they’ll be wearing once they realize the way Soap talks when he’s all fired up is how everyone here speaks all the time.
Before she knows it, they’ve made their way to the luggage drop off. The conveyor belts remain motionless as the group strides over, not yet moving any luggage around to be grabbed. Soap huffs at the sight, leaning back against a pillar set up just a couple feet from the belt. They all stick relatively close to one another, waiting in the midst of the quickly growing crowd for their bags to be brought down.
“What do you wanna bet that Soap is gonna try to drag us to all the places he went to growing up while we’re here, eh?” she asks Ghost, looking up at him.
He makes this sound halfway between a scoff and a huff, something she has come to associate with his version of laughter. “Don’ need to bet on tha’. He’s gonna do’t whether the lot o’ us like it or not.”
Grizzly chuckles, about to make a further comment when the belt starts moving. A chorus of mumbles goes up, people waiting a little more anxiously for their luggage. The first suitcases come down, all bearing tags and markers to differentiate them and even one belonging to a child that looked like Lightning McQueen. A woman shoves past her with a little boy, the cartoon suitcase and a deep blue one being snatched up. The woman didn’t even bat an eye at how Grizzly was knocked aside, stumbling against Ghost with a soft curse.
“Ya a’right?” her lieutenant asks, steading her with his hands grasping her forearms.
“Yeah. Thanks.”
He simply nods as she regains her balance and steps back to her previous spot, taking a minute to calm herself down before searching the conveyor belt for her duffel. She sees it coming down the metal ramp, sliding onto the belt with a thump. Glad she’d decided to bring her poetry books with her instead of packing them in her bag like she normally did because of the rough way her bag was handled, Grizzly gently nudges past a few people and lifts up her duffel. Soap and Gaz’s, each marked with tags bearing their initials, slide down next, separated by a few suitcases from her duffel.
She returns to her spot by Ghost’s side, setting the duffel on the ground and settling her crossbody bag more comfortably on her back. They don’t have to wait much longer for Price and Ghost’s duffels to slide down. Once all of them have the duffels and have double checked that they in fact do have all their belongings (“Lads I’ve lost ‘nough things while traveling in the service to be cautious,” Price had told them as he looked through the neatly packed items in his bag), they exit the airport.
The crisp March air brushes against her cheeks, instantly sending a wave of goosebumps rising over the skin of her arms. It’s welcome, reminding her of the winters in Alaska growing up. Gaz curses, stuffing his hands into the pockets of the thick coat he wore and tucking his head down into the tall collar in an attempt to cover his ears. Price has a similar response, tugging his beanie more firmly over his ears. Ghost doesn’t have a reaction, but that comes as no surprise.
“Where the bloody hell is our ride?” Price questions, one arm around a shivering Gaz as his hand rubs over the younger man’s arm to try to warm him up with his other hand stuffed into his pocket.
“Oh come on Captain it’s not that cold out is it?” she teases, comfortable in her outfit. “It’s not that cold right, Soap?”
The Scot shakes his head, looking the happiest and calmest she’d seen him be for a while. “Nah. I cannae hardly feel ‘t.”
The two of them share a laugh, much to the displeasure of Price and Gaz.
“Well I’m sure Ghost is cold too,” Gaz retorts, sending a look their lieutenant’s way. “Right?”
Ghost shrugs, arms crossed over his broad chest. “M fine actually.”
Gaz grumbles under his breath about how the three of them were insane, Price agreeing with him as they wait for a van to pick them up. To the grateful mumbling of the captain and sergeant, a van pulls up to the curb and a man steps out, greeting them all with a salute and then ushering them inside while loading their bags into the back. Price slips into a row with Gaz while she, Ghost, and Soap all pile into the rear one. It’s a tight fit trying to squeeze back there, especially with the way all three of their shoulders brush together. However, Grizzly doesn’t mind since this has more legroom than the plane and that’s a major thing to be grateful for.
The driver, a British corporal based off of his introduction, slips back into his seat and pulls back into the flow of traffic, driving them to their destination. Price strikes up a conversation with him, and under normal circumstances she’d be paying attention, but right now all she’s focused on is the scenery of Scotland they’re passing by. With each pub and small store or bakery they pass by she’s reminded of the times she came to the country with her father growing up. Distantly she wonders if there will be a chance for her to visit any of them.
“What about ya, Staff Sergeant?”
She is snapped from her thoughts by the voice of the young corporal. “I’m sorry, can you repeat what you said?” Grizzly asks, this time actually paying attention.
“I was jus’ askin’ if any o’ the team ‘ad been t’ Scotland b’fore, Staff Sergeant.”
“Yes actually. Several times,” she replies, a smile coming onto her face. “My dad was born in a town not too far from Edinburg. Him and I come with my siblings to visit the family still here for holidays when we can.”
“Reckon they’d accept a surprise visit?” Price inquiries, turning to look back at her.
She rolls her eyes. “And risk losing a free babysitter by not? They’d welcome me with open arms.”
Soap chuckles, and she remembers he came from a big family like she did. He probably got treated in a similar fashion whenever he got time on leave and decided to come home. Thinking of her family lights up a small pang in her chest, wanting badly to see them. Maybe if they got some free time after this assignment before heading back to England she could drive to visit her grandparents, uncle, and cousins.
A gate looms ahead, blocking off the military base from the outside world. Ghost shifts next to her, slipping his phone into one of the various pockets on his cargos after pausing his music. Soap is downright squirming, eager to get out of his seat and move around.
The mental image of smacking him on the back of the head to make him stop moving in the cramped space of the backseat pops into her brain.
Before Grizzly has the chance to act on it, the van comes to a stop inside the gate in front of a building she assumes is offices. The driver turns off the ignition, allowing for the team to offload onto the asphalt. Gaz and Price hurry out of the single side door, already working on getting their things from the back of the van. Since she was in the middle seat, she slips out before the men on either side of her, laughing as Soap tries in vain to scramble out before Ghost. The lieutenant just shoves him back with one big gloved hand on his chest and squeezes through the gap between the two seats Gaz and Price had been in.
“A wan a bile yer heid,” Soap grumbles, finally allowed to exit the van once Ghost is out.
“Oh poor delicate flower,” she coos, hefting up her duffel onto one shoulder after stuffing her crossbody she’d brought on the plane inside. “Do you need a kiss to make it better?”
The Scot grins at that, leaning into her space. “A’d take any excuse to git a kiss from a bonnie lass like yerself.”
“Knock ‘t off,” Ghost orders, grabbing Soap by the back of his collar and pulling him away from her. “We ‘ave an audience.”
“Ya know I dinnae mind tha-OW LT!”
00000
“Your objective is to prevent the deal from goin’ through. If it does, then cut off its head as quickly as possible.”
Grizzly looks over the projected image on the white wall in front of her, taking in the details of the drone shot they’d gotten of a warehouse nestled within Dunfermline. It was about two hours from where they were in Stirling and less than forty minutes from Glasgow, meaning they needed to keep that in mind when searching for their targets. According to the intel they’d been given, an American mafia affiliated group who called themselves the “Eagles” had taken up business inside. Under normal circumstances, this would be left to the authorities in the area.
However, this wasn’t normal circumstances.
Based on what had been presented to them, the 141 was going to be facing a bust for a massive deal. They were talking drugs, weapons, blacklists, and more. It was gonna require one hell of a cleanup job.
She knew the paperwork they’d all have to fill out after this mission would be a bitch and half.
“I trust your team can handle this, Captain Price?”
The statement is worded like a question, giving off the illusion none of them buy that they were actually allowed to say no to this.
Price doesn’t take the bait, meeting the eyes of the man conducting their mission briefing. “Yes sir.”
“Good,” the man says with a nod, turning off the projector and flicking the lights back on. “Your team heads out at 2300.”
With that, they’re all dismissed. As she passes the man who’d conducted the briefing, he sniffs with an air of disdain around him, and Grizzly suspects it is due to her being an American. Not letting it phase her, she continues out the door after Soap. She encountered this plenty while on bases not her own housing primarily individuals from the various parts of the UK. This was actually the reason why she preferred being on bases holding other American units on an assignment.
With Price at the head, the team heads down the hallways of the base, navigating towards the barracks. There are several soldiers inside, all conversing noisily in their Scottish tongue. Soap hightails it for a few of them playing cards, instantly being roped in once they heard his natural accent. About a quarter of the total number of soldiers in the room were British, their accents a harsh contrast to that of the natives of this country. She notes dryly there aren’t any Americans in this barrack, but that wasn’t exactly unusual given the base they were on was really for the British Army.
“Johnny’s in his natural element,” Ghost comments, leaning back against the wall.
“He’s surrounded by his own species,” she affirms, chuckling at the sight of their sergeant arguing animatedly with another soldier, accent molding his words so thickly even she was having trouble deciphering it. “I don’t know if we’ll be able to drag him back once this mission is done.”
Her lieutenant makes that scoffing huff noise, likely thinking the same thing.
Grizzly sits on her bunk–the bottom one since the only open top bunks were on the other side of the room away from her team–and looks up at him. “What are your plans for until we head out? We have at least ten hours to go.”
“Make sure Johnny doesn’t get into trouble,” the man replies and she laughs.
“You don’t wanna interact with your species?” she teases, watching as he leans against the frame of a bunk bed behind him.
Ghost shrugs, voice passive as he speaks. “Already know what they’ll wanna talk ‘bout. Not tha’ interestin’.”
“Aw, so you prefer my company over theirs?”
He rolls his eyes. “Don’t get your hopes up.”
She chuckles, attention being drawn away by Price who had come to stand by her bunk.
“Never seen Soap fit in with a group so quickly,” he comments, echoing the same stream of thought she and Ghost were coasting over earlier. “Good for ‘im.”
“It sounds like you’re talkin’ about exposure therapy for a dog,” Grizzly laughs, watching as the Scotsman stands with the soldiers he had been playing cards with.
After exchanging several fist bumps and shoulder taps, Soap strides back to them with a pep in his step.
She chuckles. “Someone’s happy.”
“Ah shove off,” he replies, no actual venom in his tone. “If there was a buncha Americans ‘ere you’d be doin’ the same thing, lass.”
She shrugs, and Price seems to find the interaction amusing, almost like a dad watching his young kids play fight would. Gaz wanders over from where he had been conversing with some British soldiers, standing by their Captain. He seems to be glad to have rejoined them, and she recalls the man’s tendency to stick around them since trying to be around new people just didn’t appeal to him the same as the team he’d been with for years.
“Any ideas for how to pass the time?” he asks, stance relaxed beside Price.
“Just trying to figure that out,” Grizzly replies, scooting over on the bed and offering the spot to him.
Soap tries to swoop in, and she wrestles with him so Gaz could take the spot. Gaz laughs, pulling her further back onto the bed to slip in front of her in a move of pretending to defend her from the Scot. Soap huffs from his spot on the ground where she’d shoved him, trying again to climb onto the bed. This time he succeeds, taking Grizzly’s spot and leaving her sitting pressed against the wall the bunk was against.
“You little shit,” she laughs, climbing from behind the two of them.
They take it as their cue to scoot back, now resting comfortably on her cot. Grizzly grips the metal of the frame for the top bunk, one knee on the mattress. She grins, slowly moving back onto the mattress.
“What’re ya doin’, Griz?” Soap questions as she starts to move.
“I,” she replies, making a quick move and laying over both of their laps with her head propped up on her pillow. “Am laying on my bed. What’s it look like?”
Soap, who was holding her upper half on his lap, flicks her forehead and she smacks him in the stomach in retaliation. She hears the scoffing huff faintly, and it sends a little thrill through her. Price barks at them to knock it off, but if he really meant it his voice would have been much more stern.
00000
The med pack rests heavily between her feet. She’d placed it there for the bumpy ride to make sure it didn’t get jostled around too badly, but considering how badly they were all experiencing just that, it wouldn’t be a surprise if some of it was moved. Ghost is on her left inside of the vehicle with Gaz and Soap opposite them and Price at the wheel. They were almost to the safehouse where they’d be keeping stock of what was going on at the warehouse and also be far enough away that their activity wouldn’t be an issue. It was around forty minutes from the actual warehouse they were going after, meaning if something went wrong they’d be on their own for a while before any form of exfil or help would arrive.
To say that the stakes were high was an understatement.
“How’s everyone doin’?” Price asks, eyes never leaving the road in front of him where another vehicle was driving ahead of them.
“Gettin’ tired of sittin’ down, Captain,” Gaz replies, speaking for all of them.
“Almost there lads. Just a few more minutes.”
“Think my legs are gonna go numb if I sit for any longer,” she grumbles, trying to avoid slamming into the metal wall on her right on a particularly rough patch of road.
The minutes pass agonizingly slow, until even she is fighting the urge to squirm in her seat.
Normally, long drives didn’t bother her. Growing up in Alaska, having to drive long distances wasn’t unusual. During missions, there would sometimes be occurrences where they were on the road for several hours before they reached their destination. It could even be brought up the long flight they’d had to endure coming from their last base to Scotland.
She can still remember Las Almas, squeezed between the seats Soap and Ghost were residing in when the latter had hijacked a truck to get them away from Graves. That drive had been a good couple hours, though she supposed being so hyped up on adrenaline lessened the effects of wanting to get out of the vehicle.
They finally come to a rocky stop, Soap and Gaz exiting first while she follows and Ghost goes behind her. The ground feels firm beneath her and being able to stretch her legs after so long was a welcome relief. They wait for Price, trailing behind him into the safehouse. Grizzly, out of habit, finds herself slipping in between Soap and Gaz like she did on normal missions.
The 141 and the additional team sent out with them set up in the safe house, setting down their weapons and beginning to set up who would be taking care of what. Grizzly discovered she was the only medic present, something surprising considering the amount of spec ops soldiers there was here. However, she doesn’t question it and continues along, simply giving her usual rundown to the men on the other team about what it meant to protect her as a medic and if she was ever incapacitated in any way the various ways to treat wounds.
She had never been incapacitated in any fights with the 141 besides in Las Almas when Graves had betrayed them and one of his Shadows had hit her with the butt of their rifle.
“Any questions?” Grizzly asks, eyes sweeping over the five men before her.
“Yeah,” one of them says after a moment, gaining her attention. “What’s an American like ya doing w’ us, huh?”
Ah.
This was gonna be a long mission.
A/N: Thank you so much for reading!
Next chapter we should get more Grizzly and Ghost action (cause I know they’re not interacting a whole lot rn but there’s a reason for that) ;3
original work
