tags β LASWELL, PRICE, sitting on a work call (yuck), potential ooc
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The call clicked to life in the dim light of the office, an ever present buzzing replacing the stale silence and the ringing in the Captain's ears.
"Laswell, almost thought you stood me up."
The brightness nearly burned his eyes when he pried them away from the door, staring back at the blank stare of the woman's icon on the screen just off to the right-hand side of the desk.
"You know I wouldn't, John."
"I do, that's the only reason I'm still here. If you were anyone else I would've left an hour ago, Kate." He leaned back in his plush, but aged, office chair, listening to it squeak in protest as he exhaled heavy out of his nose. "No reason to throw a wobbly over it, just tell me you've made some progress."
"Negative, unfortunately," there was a noise like she was sighing on the other end, but it seemed like she was walking away from the mic when it happened. "I feel like I'm screaming into a void at this point, Brass won't take anything seriously. They're convinced it's not a drug ring running between Urzikstan and Russia, orders are to drop it so the local government can handle it."
Even though she couldn't see it, the man's brow raised, quizzically, "You plan on lettin' 'em?"
"..."
"...Laswell?"
"...I need to make sure only your ears hear this, Price. Give me a second."
A frown pulled the corner of the Captain's lips further and further down, resting a hand on the fluff covering his chin. There was shuffling from Laswell's end, distorted by the crackling of the line before her voice came back on.
"Confirmed I'm alone, now let's get back to business."
Price made a sound like agreement.
"Intelligence is in a rough spot, a real rough spot. If I dig into this anymore, depending on what I find, I either threaten your clearance on this or risk the wrong people hearing about it."
He stroked the scruff of his beard absentmindedly.
"I've already consulted all the decryption experts I can trust with something like this, and all of them are drawing blanks. If I pass it on to another group, I can't guarantee they aren't going to rat this entire thing out to someone who won't be so okay with how we're handling this, and if that person is higher up on the chain than I am, it's out of my hands. That's the better option out of the two."
The call no doubt caught the sound of Price's chair squealing again when he moved to sit up a little straighter.
"If someone doesn't tattle and I find out something bigger is going on, then you and the Taskforce will be removed from the chase entirely. For your sake and my sake, we don't want to have to deal with the headache of another force going in, muddying the waters, and then handing the job back over to us when lines are so blurred you have to question each other when they tell you the difference between your left and right."
"..."
The two fell into a momentary hush, Laswell so she could choose her next words, Price so he could absorb the new information.
He would ultimately be the one to break the silence, huffing as he propped the foot of his right leg up on his left knee, "So what? We fall back, sit around while we let the decrypt squad try and figure something out? We don't know how long we can sit on this information before there are casualties."
"You think I don't know that?"
"..."
The Captain's brows pulled down, furrowing as Laswell seemed to shuffle around whatever room she'd holed up in. There was a sound he didn't recognize, before the slam of a file cabinet. The sound of footsteps, then they got louder, presumably as she returned to whatever device she was calling from. A stack of papers dropped on the desk, then he heard the crisp sound of a file folder being peeled open.
"I'm gonna need you to trust me on this, John. I don't usually like imposing on you, but we're in a spot where I've gotta start making bold moves."
He hummed, "I don't exactly have any other options, do I?"
There was a chuff from Laswell, "You don't. But neither do I, so you better not fuck this up for either of us."
Price's eyebrows raised, "Oh, you're serious."
"Deathly."
He shrugged to nobody in particular, nobody would've seen it, "Let's hear it."
There was a pause, for what, he didn't know.
"I've got someone, SASR. If I temporarily transfer him to your team, anything he uncovers stays under your jurisdiction. If you find anything you need to act on, no penalties for either of us as long as you let Brass know before moving." Another page flipped beyond the screen, "If it actually makes it to their desk before the op is in motion... is another question."
"Well, that's awfully convenient," he murmured, no longer stroking his beard so he could rest both hands on the table, "You haven't done this yet, because?"
"Cause this is gonna cost me, Captain. He's owed me a favor for a couple years now and I've been saving it for when I needed it most. You should be extremely grateful I'm partial to this taskforce or I would've let it age for a few more years," she sucked a sharp breath in through her teeth, "like a fine whiskey."
"You can't just move him from whatever he's working on?"
"He doesn't just work on decryption, he's an operative." There was a muffled sound of a curse, quiet enough Price couldn't figure out which one, "I'm lucky he's not deployed with another team right now, but I'm just as unlucky that he's on leave."
Price's chair turned, facing one of the windows with its black-out curtains drawn tight, and absentmindedly he pondered whether he could stay up for another hour or if he should turn in after the call ended.
"How long?"
Laswell's next breath made her words come out exasperatedly, "The rest of the month."
Price whistled, "Must've been one hell of a favor."
"Just be thankful it was," she grumbled, "he's going to hate me for this."
A couple more taps on his desk before he nodded into the empty room, "Well, you have my thanks, Kate. When can I expect him to touch down?"
"3 days, at the very least."
"Bloody hell, where's he flying from?"
"Australia or the States, if we're lucky. If we aren't, he's somewhere without reception and it could take an entire week to touch base."
"Rog'," Price stood up from his desk, stretching his arms up above his head. As much as the stacks of paper piled on his desk screamed with urgency, knowing he had a couple days before he'd be on the move again convinced him it wasn't worth the sleep deprivation to try and push them all out tonight, "You'll send his file over, then?"
"Negative," she corrected herself quickly after, though, "at least, not his full file. I'll send the unredacted version with him when he gets there. He's an asset best kept under wraps given the situation."
"Hm."
"I'll be in touch when I can get a hold of him."
The man crossed his arms over his chest, almost tempted to push further, but the droop of his eyelids and the call of sleep beckoned him towards the path of letting it be for the night, "Right. Don't keep me waiting next time."
"Affirmative. Now, at ease, soldier."
He huffed, briefest indication of amusement before he reached towards the screen, "Don't mind if I do. Goodnight, Laswell."
UNDER THE LONE SUN β yandere! taskforce 141 x male! reader
After leaving your last team and a few years floating around as a solo operative on loan to different units, you wanted to take a nice month-long vacation. Of course, it seems fate has different plans for you.
Following a long chat, a few promises, and begrudgingly packing up your things, you ready yourself to land in the heart of the SAS. You'd heard of the 141 while drifting around, but it was always a passing mention. What are you meant to do when the team actually seems to take a liking to you?
Too much of a liking to you.
"Let me get this straight- You're making me come back from leave early... so you can send me to the fucking U.K.?"
tags β potential cringe, male reader, top male reader, taskforce 141 x male reader, REBOOT taskforce 141, doesn't follow canon AT ALL, like only thing in common is probably the fact they're against Konni operatives, poly141, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Captain John Price, reader can come off as an oc/comes off as an oc, established callsign, reader is described as Australian/comes from Australia, mlm content gang, potential (definite) ooc, more potential cringe, sexual innuendos, constant sexual banter, reader can and will call British people poms π₯, TBA...
