✨Let's talk about OCs!✨ How would you describe your OC's personality/aesthetic? What's your favourite thing about them? Tell us a fun fact(s) about your OC or their creation! 🤍 Send this to at least 3 people to spread some OC appreciation! 🤍
Awww, thanks for the ask, pookie! 🫀❤
So speaking about Red - she has that unintentional femme fatal thing going on for her. She is attractive for people even though she is mostly not interested and struggles with avoidant attachment style. She works on it though!!!
My favorite thing about Red is probably how clueless she is sometimes. When it comes to her feelings she has no idea what's going on which is ironic, considering she is psychologist.
As for the fan fact(s) about Red or the creation of her i would say she is deeply inspired by my own personal experiences. Turns out working on yourself is easier when you write it down. The creation of my OC was (and still is) a fun process. I give her the same health issues i have to deal with my own anxiety about those issues. Red's story is my diary in a sense that she is the mirror of the things that made me happy/upset/concerned, etc.
So maybe I'll even make her be the girl with missing premolar tooth too👀
Aaaand... yes, i feel like AO3 writer. I just got my premolar tooth removed. Apparently, inflammation in my gum was destroying MY GODDAMN SKULL. Did i cry my ass off? Yes, i did. Do i plan on doing something with my missing tooth? Yes! Me and my doc are working on putting artificial bone tissue where the missing tissue was. And then, hopefully, I'll get an implant.
Before that happened, i twisted my ankle and yeah... it was not great.
But I'm alive and I'm still here! Working on getting back on track with my works.
Yet again i feel like ao3 writer with my personal issues. But about this I'll maybe write a whole ass post later.
Enjoy.
Red’s memory of that night felt vivid, almost haunting. The operations room had been dim, the only light coming from the soft glow of monitors. She remembered sitting there, twisting a pen between her fingers, waiting for the team’s report. Task Force 141 was in the field, hunting Hassan—a high-priority terrorist they had been tracking for weeks. Red had spent hours preparing the team, gauging their mental readiness, making sure their focus was sharp and they knew who their target was. But as she sat there, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.
Her mind kept returning to the last few weeks working with professor Benar to understand what fanatic like Hassan could do. The mission felt more precarious than anyone had wanted to admit, and now, sitting in that room, waiting, Red could feel the undercurrent of unease growing stronger.
When the comms finally crackled to life, the news wasn’t good. Hassan had escaped. Red had felt the tension in her gut tighten, her worst fears beginning to take shape. Losing the target was a blow, but it was what came next that had hit her like a wave—American missiles. Hassan had somehow acquired advanced weaponry, U.S.-made, stashed in his safehouse.
Her mind had gone into overdrive at that revelation. American missiles in terrorist hands—it was the kind of breach that couldn’t be ignored, the kind that had implications far beyond the immediate mission. How had Hassan gotten his hands on those weapons? It wasn’t just a tactical failure; this was something deeper, more insidious. Someone, somewhere, had helped him? Someone had leaked critical information or worse—supplied him?
That’s when the thought had struck her like a cold, hard truth: there might be a rat. Red had spent years studying the psychology of betrayal. She had seen how trust could be eroded, how even the most loyal-seeming individuals could be swayed by greed, fear, or misguided beliefs. And now, those instincts were screaming at her. There had to be an informant, someone feeding Hassan what he needed to get those missiles. The weight of that realization had sat heavily on her chest.
As the team’s report filtered back to command, the mood had shifted. Task Force 141 had failed to capture Hassan, but the discovery of the missiles overshadowed even that. Red could sense the storm brewing from their superiors. The discovery wasn’t just a setback—it was a dangerous escalation. The implications were severe. If Hassan had American missiles, it meant the operation was compromised, and the breach had to be internal. Or maybe it's something more trivial?
Red had sat there, her mind racing, replaying the events over and over. In her role, she was used to dissecting motives, reading people, finding the threads that connected behavior to deeper truths. But now, she was faced with something far more threatening than just the enemy outside. The possibility of betrayal within their own ranks gnawed at her relentlessly.
That night, as she stared at the monitors long after the team had gone silent, Red had felt a sinking sense of dread. The mission wasn’t just about catching a terrorist anymore. It was about trust, about figuring out who among them might be playing a dangerous game. And the thought that someone, perhaps even someone close to them, had orchestrated this breach stayed with her, deepening her doubts, sharpening her fears.
As Red sat alone in the quiet operations room, the weight of guilt settled in her chest like a slow, creeping tide. She stared at the dark screen in front of her, replaying the details of the mission over and over. Hassan had escaped. Task Force 141 had missed their target. And now, those American missiles—the stark evidence of something far more dangerous—loomed over them all.
She couldn’t stop thinking about her role in all of this. Red had spent weeks studying Hassan, building a psychological profile of the man. She’d traced his movements, analyzed his motivations, crafted theories about how he operated.
She was supposed to help the team predict his moves, understand how to outmaneuver him. But when it mattered most, it hadn’t been enough. Her profile hadn’t prepared them for the sheer audacity of Hassan’s escape or for the shock of discovering American missiles in his possession.
Red felt the sharp sting of doubt creep in. Was there something she had missed? A detail in Hassan’s behavior, a pattern in his tactics that she should have seen? She had built him up in her mind as a cold, calculating figure—someone who relied on careful strategy and manipulation. But the reality had blindsided them. Hassan had slipped through their fingers, and she couldn’t help but feel her analysis hadn’t made the difference it was supposed to.
The discovery of the missiles only deepened that sense of failure. The profile she had worked so hard to develop had done nothing to warn them of the real threat. Hassan had been playing a far larger game, and Red hadn’t seen it coming. She was supposed to be the expert, the one who understood the enemy’s mind. But now, sitting in the aftermath of the mission, it felt like all her work had been a shadow—a vague outline that hadn’t stopped him when it mattered most.
A part of her knew that no profile, no matter how thorough, could have predicted every move. Intelligence was messy, people were unpredictable, and war didn’t follow the neat lines drawn in psychological reports. But knowing that didn’t lift the heavy feeling of responsibility pressing on her chest. She had contributed to the team’s strategy, and in the end, it hadn’t been enough to stop Hassan from slipping away. That small voice of guilt gnawed at her, whispering that perhaps she had overestimated her insights, or worse, underestimated Hassan’s cunning.
Red sighed, leaning back in her chair, the guilt clinging to her like a weight she couldn’t shrug off. She had trained to analyze minds, to understand the patterns that led to decisions. But tonight, those skills felt hollow. What was the point of all that analysis if, in the end, the enemy still outsmarted them?
'Yeah, that feels weird', Red thought, starting at the wall. 'Okay, he could have used the time team was securing the crash site, but the missiles... what about them?'
Red sat in the silence of her small office, her fingers absently twisting a pen as she replayed the mission in her mind. The weight of her failure to anticipate Hassan’s moves had settled heavily on her shoulders. She was supposed to have seen it coming, to understand his psychology well enough to help the team get ahead of him. But instead, Hassan had escaped, and the discovery of the American missiles in his possession had turned everything on its head.
A knock at the door broke the silence, startling her from her thoughts. She glanced up just as Ghost stepped into the room, his presence commanding as always. His broad frame filled the doorway, and even though his face was mostly hidden beneath his mask, the intensity in his eyes was unmistakable. Red’s pulse quickened slightly—an involuntary response she’d long tried to ignore. The cool, controlled manner with which he moved always drew her attention. She’d never admit it, not even to herself most of the time, but there was something about Ghost that intrigued her. The mystery, the unshakable confidence, the way he seemed untouchable.
Ghost closed the door behind him, his gaze sweeping over the scattered papers on her desk before landing on her. There was no small talk, no pretense. He was here for a reason.
And then there was the way he looked at her now, his dark, unreadable eyes locked onto hers through the narrow slits of his skull-patterned mask. She knew better than to think too much about it, but it didn’t stop that faint flicker of curiosity from sparking. What was going on behind those eyes?
"Red," he said, his voice low and gravelly, cutting through the stillness. He didn’t need to say more. His tone carried the weight of unspoken concern.
Red straightened in her chair, brushing a strand of ginger hair behind her ear, suddenly feeling exposed under his gaze. "Just going over the mission," she murmured, gesturing to the chaos on her desk. "Trying to figure out where I went wrong."
Ghost didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he stepped forward, moving with that same quiet, controlled energy he always had, and sat down across from her. His presence was grounding, but it also unsettled her in ways she couldn’t quite explain. There was something about him—something that made her both hyper-aware and oddly comforted at the same time. The quiet intensity that surrounded him always pulled at her, like a magnetic force she couldn’t fully resist.
"You didn’t go wrong," Ghost finally said, his voice steady but firm. "Hassan’s slippery. No one could’ve predicted everything."
Red let out a breath, but it didn’t ease the knot of guilt in her chest. "I was supposed to understand him, Ghost. That’s what I do. But I missed something—something big. And now we’re sitting on top of a mess because of it."
She dropped her gaze, unable to meet his eyes. But she could still feel his presence, looming, steady. Ghost wasn’t the type to give empty reassurances, which was exactly why she valued his opinion. Yet, part of her still doubted.
Instead of leaving after his response, as she expected he might, Ghost leaned back slightly in his chair. The move surprised her. He stayed, not just for a quick check-in but to be here, to really make sure she was okay. The room felt smaller with him there, more intimate, and she felt the faintest stir of something inside her, a flicker of vulnerability that she rarely allowed herself to feel around anyone else.
Red cleared her throat, trying to push through the tension building in her chest. "It’s not just about missing Hassan," she said quietly, her fingers tightening around the pen. "It’s about what we found—those missiles. They change everything, and I didn’t see it coming."
Ghost’s eyes never left her, his gaze steady and unreadable behind the mask. But he leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees, his presence drawing her in. "No one saw that coming," he said. "Not me, not Soap, not Laswell, not Shepherd. You did your job. Don’t put this all on yourself."
The calm certainty in his voice washed over her, momentarily pushing back the guilt. But it was more than just his words. It was him—the way he held space for her in his own quiet way, the way he never judged, never rushed. She realized then that this was Ghost’s way of checking in—staying with her when he didn’t have to, giving her a moment to breathe, to process.
She glanced up at him, and for a second, their eyes met. Even behind the mask, those dark, penetrating eyes were impossible to ignore. Red couldn’t help but feel that faint pull again, the one that always lingered around Ghost. It was something she knew better than to dwell on—something that couldn’t, and shouldn’t, go anywhere. But even as she pushed it aside, she couldn’t deny the way her heart beat just a little faster whenever he was near.
"I just thought I’d help more," she admitted, her voice quieter now. "I thought my profile would make a difference. But it feels like… I let you all down."
Ghost’s posture shifted slightly, and she saw a flicker of something in his eyes—something softer, though still guarded. "You’ve helped more than you know," he said, his tone lowering even more. "You keep us steady, Red. You keep me steady."
Her breath caught at the unexpected intimacy in his words. He rarely said anything personal, but when he did, it carried so much weight. The air between them seemed to thicken, and for a moment, the world outside her office faded. It was just the two of them—her doubts and his unflinching presence. He wasn’t just a soldier, not to her. He was something more, though she hadn’t allowed herself to define it. She was scared to define it. Scared she would run away like she always does when it gets serious.
Ghost didn’t leave, even after the silence stretched between them. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, settling in like he had nowhere else to be. Red found herself relaxing slightly, despite the turmoil still swirling inside her. His staying there, offering his company without saying too much, made her feel anchored in a way she hadn’t expected.
She allowed herself a small smile, glancing down at the papers before looking back at him. "You really know how to sit in silence," she said lightly, trying to ease the tension.
Ghost’s eyes softened just a fraction, though his expression remained hidden by the mask. "Sometimes, silence is enough."
Red nodded, feeling the weight of his words settle over her. Maybe silence was enough. Maybe just having him there, in the room with her, was all she needed to start letting go of the guilt.
They sat in the dim light of her office, the weight of the mission still pressing on their chests. The silence between her and Ghost was thick, filled with unspoken understanding. The room felt different with him here, quieter, more intimate. She didn’t know what it was about him—something about his presence just anchored her, even when she didn’t have the words to explain it.
After a long stretch of silence, Ghost reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. With practiced ease, he took one out, lit it, and let the smoke curl up into the air. The faint glow from the end of the cigarette flickered in the darkness. He took a drag, lifting his balaclava slightly, then paused, the smoke escaping slowly from his nostrils.
Red glanced up at him. His movements were always deliberate, measured, and she couldn’t help but feel the pull of his calm. He didn’t say anything, just held the cigarette out toward her. The gesture was simple, but the silence between them made it feel almost intimate.
"I don’t smoke," she said softly, glancing at the cigarette before meeting his eyes.
Ghost didn’t respond with words, just tilted his head slightly, as though daring her to challenge him. The look in his eyes was unreadable, but there was something there—something that made her hesitate for just a moment.
Red took a breath and leaned forward slightly, closing the space between them. Without a word, she took the cigarette from his fingers, the touch of his hand lingering for just a fraction of a second longer than necessary. She brought it to her lips, feeling the heat of the smoke against her skin before she inhaled, the sharp taste of tobacco filling her mouth. She wasn’t sure what she expected, but the sensation was oddly calming.
Ghost’s gaze didn’t waver as she took the drag. He was watching her closely, and despite the fact that she wasn’t a smoker, she didn’t cough or falter. She held the smoke in her lungs for a moment longer than usual, meeting his eyes all the while. There was something about the way he looked at her—something that made her feel like he saw through the walls she’d built around herself, but didn’t judge.
Slowly, she exhaled, watching the smoke swirl between them. For a few seconds, the room felt like it was suspended in time, as if there was nothing else but her and Ghost and the quiet presence he always brought. The world outside her office didn’t matter. It was just the two of them, in this shared moment of stillness.
Red handed the cigarette back to him, her fingers brushing his once more. "Not bad," she said quietly, her voice a little softer than usual.
Ghost took the cigarette from her, his fingers brushing against hers again, but there was no rush. He took a slow drag, his gaze still on her. "Told you," he murmured, his voice low and steady, the silence between them settling in like a shared understanding.
Red didn’t speak immediately. Instead, she allowed herself to sit in the quiet, the weight of his presence grounding her. Maybe it wasn’t the cigarette, but something in the way Ghost was there, offering her something as simple as a drag of his cigarette, that made the guilt she’d been carrying feel a little lighter.
He didn’t need to say anything. Sometimes, the silence between them was all they needed.
Tag list: @chloekistune @cloudofbutterflies92 @kistune-sakura
I started writing this chapter in May. I tried finishing it in one week but as you can tell i couldn't. I only finished it a few weeks ago.
You can certainly tell that different parts of that chapter were written in different time and in different mental state. Also, I'm introducing my new OC here.
I honestly don't really like how it came out but it is what it is. You can call it a filler chapter.
Yes, it's long. Probably the longest chapter I've written.
Adult life brings so much obstacles. That Red understood when it turned or that she needs to talk to stupid people in order to work. Unfortunate. Another thing Red learned during her work as a psychologist is the fact that you can't put your expectations too high, never tell your clients about the expectations or promise them the results. Because that's not how psychology works.
Another thing Red learned is the fact that having friends from different fields is very beneficial. As much as she would rather avoid all that military world, everything somehow leads to the military in the end. Even before she started working as a consultant for TF141 she had to work with a few soldiers who she still deeply respects.
Friendship offers a myriad of benefits for humans that extend far beyond mere social interaction. Firstly, friendships provide a crucial source of emotional support. Whether celebrating triumphs or weathering challenges, friends offer a listening ear, empathy, and understanding, which can help individuals navigate the complexities of life with greater ease.
Moreover, friendships contribute to reducing stress levels and enhancing overall mental well-being. Spending time with friends promotes the release of feel-good hormones like oxytocin and serotonin, which can alleviate feelings of loneliness and anxiety. This, in turn, fosters a sense of happiness and contentment.
Furthermore, friendships serve as catalysts for personal growth and development. Through interactions with friends, individuals gain new perspectives, receive constructive feedback, and engage in self-reflection, which are essential components of self-improvement. Whether through shared experiences or intellectual discussions, friendships facilitate learning and expansion of one's worldview.
Social connection is a fundamental human need, and friendships fulfill this need by providing a sense of belonging and acceptance. Feeling connected to others fosters a sense of community and strengthens interpersonal bonds, which can bolster self-esteem and confidence.
During times of adversity, friendships become invaluable resources for resilience. Having a support network of friends can help individuals cope with challenges, providing encouragement, motivation, and practical assistance when needed most. Knowing that one is not alone in facing life's trials can instill a sense of hope and perseverance.
In summary, friendships enrich our lives in myriad ways, offering emotional support, reducing stress, fostering personal growth, enhancing social connection, and bolstering resilience. Investing in meaningful friendships is not only enjoyable but also essential for nurturing our overall well-being and fulfillment.
Or at least that's what psychology books say.
To Red friendship is something nobody could ever put in words or explain.
Friendship, she pondered, was a tapestry woven from moments shared, laughter echoing through the halls of memory, and the silent understanding between souls. It was the comforting presence on a dark night, the unwavering support during turbulent times, and the joy found in simple companionship.
To her, friendship was more than just a bond; it was a lifeline, a beacon of light guiding her through the darkest of storms. And as she stood there, enveloped by the tranquil beauty of the night, she couldn't help but feel grateful for the cherished friends who had become her family, her anchors in an ever-changing world.
Too poetic, isn't it? That's why it's better not to talk about it.
What she knew exactly is that friend will always help, always warn you. That's how she was. That's what she asks from people.
Since professor Benar started helping her with profile, those thoughts about friendship and its meaning somehow became much more constant.
The weird gut feeling that was eating her up almost every day was getting unbearable. Something didn't feel right. It's as if that case was much deeper than she thought and then everyone else thought.
Her friendship with the soldiers of Task Force 141 can be called strange, incomprehensible, naive. But Red doesn’t care much about what their friendship might be called. But the relationship with the professor can hardly be called friendship. Yes, perhaps Red has become paranoid, but for some reason the appearance of her so respected professor raises a lot of questions, but only for her.
The professor always seemed to be watching the girl's slightest movement. He is a genius, a professional, and Red has learned to analyze any of his words or actions, looking for hidden subtext. Abel Benar was not one to do or say anything just for the sake of it. And he himself believed that there was some kind of secret meaning in everything.
Why did he came now?
Red sat in her office, the soft ticking of the clock on the wall marking the passage of time. Her office was a sanctuary of calm, with shelves lined with books on psychology, a well-worn leather couch for patients, and her desk neatly organized. Yet, despite the serenity of her surroundings, her mind was anything but calm. She leaned back in her chair, her eyes unfocused as she stared at a spot on the ceiling, lost in thought.
Hassan's file lay open on her desk, the pages filled with notes, transcripts, and psychological evaluations. A name that had become synonymous with terror in the media, was her latest and most challenging case. The more she delved into his mind, the more she felt an unsettling, nagging sensation in her gut that there was something much deeper and more complex at play.
She flipped through the pages, her eyes scanning the meticulously detailed notes. Hassan's background was filled with trauma, loss, and radicalization, a story all too common in the profiles of terrorists. But there were inconsistencies, fragments of his story that didn't quite fit. Red couldn't shake the feeling that Hassan wasn't just a product of his environment; there was something else, something unseen that was influencing him.
Red turned her chair towards the window, looking out at the city skyline. Her instincts had never led her astray before. She had a talent for seeing the patterns that others missed, for understanding the hidden motives behind human behavior. And her instincts were screaming at her now that there was more to Hassan's story than met the eye.
Reaching for her phone, Red dialed the number of her contact. She only had a few minutes before professor Benar comes back. And the last thing she wants right now is getting him into her assumptions based on intuition. So she called that one person. The person she could trust, the soldier who can be trust. The one who she had an unlike friendship with. Who knows not to call her by her name.
She needed more information, more pieces of the puzzle to fit together. As she waited for the call to connect, she glanced back at Hassan's file, her resolve hardening. She would get to the bottom of this, no matter how deep she had to dig.
Because Red knew that understanding Hassan wasn't just about profiling a terrorist. It was about uncovering a truth that could prevent future atrocities, about seeing the humanity even in those society deemed monsters. And her gut told her that the truth about Hassan was far more complicated and far more important than anyone realized.
The phone clicked as the line connected, and Red steeled herself for the conversation ahead. She would follow her instincts, no matter where they led her, because sometimes the mind's darkest corners held the key to understanding, and she was determined to unlock it.
As the phone rang, Red glanced back at Hassan's file, her resolve hardening.
"Hey, Red," came Major Adam Black's deep, steady voice on the other end of the line. "Long time no hear. What’s up?"
"Adam," she began, a small smile tugging at her lips despite the seriousness of the situation. "I will be talking quickly. I need your help. I'm working on infamous terrorist's psychological profile, and there's something off. I can't put my finger on it, but my gut is telling me there's more to this than anyone realizes."
"Figures you'd call with a puzzle," Adam chuckled, a warm, familiar sound. "You always did love the tricky ones. What’s the scoop?"
"I need more information," she said. "There are gaps in his story, inconsistencies that don't make sense. I think it's important. I think it's something bigger than CIA thinks it is."
"Intriguing," Adam replied, his tone growing more serious. "Alright, send me everything you have. I’ll reach out to some contacts. We'll crack this together."
"Thanks, Adam," Red said, relief washing over her. "I knew I could count on you."
"Always," he said, the smile evident in his voice. "I missed this, you know? Stay safe, Red. We'll get to the bottom of this."
As she ended the call, Red felt a renewed sense of determination. She would follow her instincts, no matter where they led her, because sometimes the mind's darkest corners held the key to understanding, and she was determined to unlock it.
She's alone in this.
The sudden feeling of anxiety washed over Red as she started thinking about this whole ordeal. There is the certain connection in everything, the pattern is obvious yet confusing.
Working with professor was easy, he never once made Red feel like she's not smart enough. But the team kept its distance from him which were understandable. They didn't trust Red at first too, probably still don't trust her completely.
Red glanced at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time that afternoon. The day had dragged on, with deadlines piling up and meetings blending into one another. She wasn’t alone in her longing for the workday to end. Red could feel the same restlessness in the air from her colleagues, all of them itching to close their laptops with unfinished reports and escape the monotony of the HQ.
What kept her going was the thought of the evening ahead—a moment when the day would finally end, and she could unwind with the people she had shared this long day with. To listen Price's stories, to try and mediate between Gaz and Soap's bickering, to sit in silence with Ghost. There was something comforting about the idea of sitting together, laughing over casual conversation, and raising a glass at the end of it all. Red could almost taste the drink she would share with them, the laughter that would echo across the table, and the sense of relief that would come when they were no longer coworkers, but just friends, relaxing after a long day. And maybe she would even forget about her insecurities and believe for a moment that they trust her.
Red tapped her fingers against the desk, her mind drifting away from the spreadsheets and emails demanding her attention. Outside, the golden light of early evening was already filtering through the windows, signaling the end of the day was near. She sighed, shifting in her seat, knowing there were still a few more tasks to check off before she could truly relax. But her thoughts kept returning to the same place: the moment when work would finally be over.
She could already picture it in her head—how she and her colleagues would gather at their favorite spot down the street. The usual post-work ritual, where they would trade in the stress of the HQ for the easy comfort of shared drinks and stories. Red liked these moments the most, when the formalities of the workday faded away and they could just be themselves. There was a sense of camaraderie that only seemed to emerge when the workday was behind them, as if the exhaustion of the hours before somehow strengthened their bond.
Red imagined the laughter bubbling up as someone made a joke, or the way a cold drink felt in hand after a day of constant work. She wanted to feel that sense of release, the collective sigh they would all share as they eased into the evening, knowing that for a little while, the responsibilities of tomorrow could wait. In those moments, with the warmth of her colleagues around her and the sharp bite of a drink on her tongue, Red always felt a little more alive, as if the whole day had been leading up to this one point of connection and relief.
As the clock finally approached the end of the shift, the office buzzed with a sense of impending freedom. Red's thoughts were already dancing around the idea of drinks with her colleagues when the door swung open with a creak. In walked Soap, his unmistakable presence lighting up the room. Readheaded woman still couldn't understand how him and the rest became such an important part of her life.
“Come on, Red!” he called out, his thick Scottish accent slicing through the chatter. “Are ye gonna sit there all day or what? The pub’s waitin’!”
Red looked up, her anticipation of the evening sparking into excitement at his familiar, boisterous tone. Soap had a knack for bringing energy wherever he went, and his playful urgency made her smile.
“Alright, alright, I’m coming!” she replied, quickly gathering her things. He leaned against her desk, arms crossed, grinning as he waited, clearly amused by her flustered pace.
“Ye’ve been workin’ like a dog today with that professor of yours,” he teased, his eyes twinkling. “A wee break’s long overdue. The others will be there already, drinkin’ our share!”
With a final glance at the clock, Red felt the last vestiges of the workday melt away. Soap’s enthusiasm was contagious, and she felt a rush of relief and eagerness to escape the office confines. As she rushed to join him, Soap stepped back, gesturing dramatically toward the door as if it were a grand entrance.
“After ye, lass!” he said with a mock bow, and they both laughed, ready to leave the workday behind and embrace the evening ahead.
The pub wasn't busy, woman could see why Task Force's soldiers prefer this place. It's peaceful. The blues plays softly in the back, some posters on the walls. Feels cool.
As Red and Soap stepped into the dimly lit pub, the warm atmosphere enveloped them like a welcoming embrace.
“Look who finally made it!” chuckled Gaz from their usual corner table, raising his glass in a cheerful toast. Captain Price sat beside him, a knowing smile on his face as he took a sip of his drink. Ghost leaned back in his chair, his signature skull mask partially obscuring his expression, but Red couldn’t shake the sense of intensity that surrounded him.
“Hope ye didn’t wait long,” Soap said, swaggering toward the table with an exaggerated air. Red followed, feeling the excitement of the evening lift her spirits.
“Not at all. We saved a spot for you two,” Price replied, gesturing to the empty seats. Red slid into the booth next to Ghost, acutely aware of how close they were. His presence was comforting yet intimidating, making it hard to focus on anything else.
The conversation flowed easily as drinks were poured and stories exchanged. Soap regaled them with tales of the day’s mishaps, earning hearty laughter from Gaz and Price. Readhead joined in, her laughter ringing out, but her gaze would occasionally drift toward Ghost. He seemed quieter than the others, his eyes observing the interactions with a subtle intensity that intrigued her.
“You alright, Red?” Ghost suddenly asked, his voice low and steady, breaking through her thoughts. She blinked, surprised he had noticed her moment of silence.
“Yeah, just… enjoying the stories,” she replied, trying to keep her tone casual. She felt a warmth rise in her cheeks, hoping the dim light would mask her slight embarrassment.
'Good job... keep staring and embarrassing yourself,' psychologist couldn't help but scold herself.
“Ye’re too quiet for a night out,” Soap teased, nudging her. “What’s got yer attention?”
Red shot him a playful glare, grateful for the distraction. “Nothing, just thinking about how much work I’m going to have tomorrow,” she deflected, a smile on her lips.
“Ah, come on!” Gaz chimed in. “Leave the work behind for tonight! We’ve got drinks and good company. That’s what matters.”
Red nodded, trying to immerse herself in the moment. The night wore on, laughter growing louder as the drinks flowed freely, creating a sense of camaraderie that felt invigorating.
As the evening unfolded, psychologist felt a comfortable connection with her colleagues, Ghost included. His occasional glances in her direction made her heart race, but she pushed the feeling aside, focusing instead on the camaraderie and joy that filled the air. Ghost may have caught her eye more than once. For example, when he caught her dancing in her office... but she was determined not to read too much into it, especially knowing her issues with commitment. After all, it was just a night out with people she is working with, and woman intended to enjoy every minute of it.
As the night continued to unfold in the cozy pub, the atmosphere was filled with laughter and conversations. Captain Price leaned back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Alright, lads,” he said, gaining the attention of everyone at the table. “I've got something to show you.”
He pulled out his phone, scrolling through photos until he landed on an old one. With a grin, he turned the screen toward the group. “Check this out."
The table leaned in, curiosity piqued. The image revealed a much younger Price in his Lieutenant days, looking surprisingly clean-shaven and almost boyish. His trademark cap was nowhere to be seen, and his blue eyes sparkled with youthful energy.
“Blimey, is that really you?” Soap exclaimed, barely containing his laughter. “You look like a completely different person without the beard!”
Gaz chuckled, unable to help himself. “You almost look… approachable!” he added playfully, his eyes dancing with amusement.
Price smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Approachable? I’ll have you know I was just as intimidating back then,” he shot back, feigning offense.
“Intimidating? You look like you just stepped off a school bus!” Gaz chimed in, shaking his head with a grin.
Even Ghost, who typically maintained his grumpy, stoic demeanor, chuckled softly at the sight. He tilted his head slightly as he examined the picture, a hint of a smile breaking through his usual composure. “Still had the same steely glare,” he remarked, his voice low but laced with amusement.
Then Red leaned in closer, squinting at the picture with mock seriousness. “Jesus Christ, Captain… you should have told me you're naked in that picture!” she exclaimed, the words slipping out before she could stop herself.
The table erupted into laughter, and Price’s eyes widened in playful shock. “I’m not naked!” he protested, trying to regain his composure. “It’s just a lack of facial hair, that’s all!”
“Right, right,” Red said with a smirk, enjoying the banter. “But seriously, it’s a whole new look for you.”
“Very funny,” Price replied, feigning annoyance but unable to hide his smile. “But you’ve got to admit, I was quite the dashing young officer.”
“Dashing?” Soap cackled. “More like fresh-faced! I can’t believe you went for the clean-shaven look. What were you thinkin’?”
Price shrugged, the laughter still bubbling around the table. “I was young and foolish, obviously. It was a different time—no need for the beard when I was trying to impress the brass.”
The group continued to laugh and share stories, the camaraderie flowing freely. Red felt a warmth spread through her, the memories and banter weaving a tapestry of friendship that made her heart feel full. Even Ghost’s rare chuckle added to the evening's lightheartedness, making it all the more enjoyable.
This felt... right. No professors, no terrorists. But the feeling that it was calm before the storm wasn't leaving Red's mind. The anxiety of what might come next was bothering her, and maybe she should listen to her doubts.
Before starting I wanted to say that I decided to rewrite this one shot because I intend to rewrite Eden's first meeting (which is not this one, I will write it soon)
Chloe OC belongs to @chloekistune 💚💚
And thank you @graveyard-party666 for helping me with Ukrainian language 💚💚
TW: for blood and torture
St. Petersburg, Russia, Jan. 7, 7:30 p.m.
The soft 50s jazz music and dim light in that room gave the room an almost cozy atmosphere, a good thing since it was literally freezing cold outside. Poor Eden who had chosen that skimpy outfit was already feeling the biting Russian cold.
But if she had to seduce a known terrorist it was a small sacrifice to make.
Already she heard the voice of her best friend Chloe knowing that the outfit she had lent her would be smeared with blood, poor Chloe.
Her job, on the one hand she hated it, having to delude people and then extort information, that was her job as an MI6 agent.
Spectra, that was her codename, a name that was a whole program. She would extort her information and then like a specter she would disappear without a trace. That codename she had earned with effort, so much effort and without even the help of her grandmother Helen, one of the great heads of the famous British spy agency.
"Reggie let's not waste any time, tell me the target" Eden in the process was putting makeup on her own lips of that pitch black, definitely a 'good choice to use for one of the most well-known clubs in the city.
The man on the 'other end of the receiver snorted almost indignantly at the spy's hasty manner, but Reggie always had an excuse to complain. The unsweetened macchiato, the fact that they did not pay him properly but he was often the one who saved Eden's ass in difficult situations with his hacking skills.
“You should address me as mr Reggie, however the target's name is Vasya Kulikov, former Spetsnaz. He could very well be tried by the tribunal for the united nations for war crimes committed for fuck's sake" the hacker burst out laughing, more at the fact that he was ironically still at large than anything else.
"Rest assured, our friend will make a trip of no return" the vibration of the 'other cell phone caught her attention, she was still in her underwear and had yet to finish her makeup but her curiosity was too strong so she looked at the message: a mysterious number that judging by the first digits looked British.
"Are you Spectra? How long will you be? I don't have all night."
The raven haired girl raised an eyebrow, then her grandmother's voice echoed in her skull box like a tic.
Still she was indignant that the mission would be in collaboration with the SAS, she had never liked their methods + the fact that most of them did not take seriously the fact that a woman could be superior to them. But her grandmother had told her over and over again that she was doing a favor for one of her protégés, a certain Captain John Price.
As calmly as she could, the girl typed an answer that might seem appropriate, lest she sound haughty.
"Don't you know we ladies keep us waiting?"
The answer did not come
"And do you know that we gentlemen don't like to wait?"
A giggle escaped from Eden at that moment, the kind that screamed "but who told me to take a job like that?”
"And does this gentleman have a name?”
She looked at herself in the mirror, satisfied with the result. A perfect disguise of a real e-girl with that blue wig.
"Eden, are you alive? Have you fallen into the toilet?" Reggie's ringing voice brought her back to herself, that sassy SAS soldier had aroused her indignation but also some curiosity. From the nightstand next to the bed was a pack of cigarettes, the words "Apollo Soyuz commemorative brand" and she hated those Russian cigarettes. She would have preferred her faithful Sterling menthol ones.
"I'm alive kid"She lit her cigarette, inhaling the smoke with a disgusted grimace.
"Your grandmother gave me more details, apparently plans have changed.The target must come out unscathed, orders from above."
"Don't worry, I know a perfect place to leave our friend" holding the cigarette between her lips Eden put on the leather coat that would protect her from the cold.
Another message made the screen light up, leaving Eden with a grin full of satisfaction.
"Ghost”
10 p.m
The lights of the club could be seen from afar, among clochards begging and people already before time drunk Eden managed to reach the area in which she had her appointment, a small alley on Dumskaya ulitsa.
"I hope it's worth it Ghost" the brunette looked at the time on her cell phone, and then she was the one late.Stupid man.
Puffing she began to tap her heel on the asphalt until turning around she almost fainted.
"Jesus Christ but are you crazy?" Eden with her hand on her chest tried to catch her breath exhaling and inspiring oxygen as if she had just emerged from the ocean. She looked up curiously: the tall, muscular figure of a man was watching her with equal curiosity holding his arms folded, a balaclava covered his face but the gaze was of a unique intensity. His eyes they were so familiar
Had she already seen it?
"You?" he raised an eyebrow, both of them not expecting to be in the same place again after that night in Nicaragua, she had recognized him from the unmistakable voice. Eden after her affair with David had stopped believing that word that just thinking about it gave her the shivers.
Destiny
But now mocking fate had made her meet the stranger Simon as he had told her his name and in her head she heard those voices laughing at her.
"Now way" he tried to not let it out a ironic laugh
"Looks like someone wants to play at weaving the web."
He rolled his eyes amused. "I don't believe in such things remember? But since we are mission we must hurry."
Puffing Eden followed the mysterious masked man in stride, it amused her that despite him wearing that balaclava he went unnoticed in the crowd. Whether it was because of the alcohol circulating like nothing or the fact that that street was full of eccentrically dressed people, but the two easily managed to arrive in front of the "Snakehead", the club run by Kulikov.
"Pretend well" quickly Eden clutched at Ghost's arm, who rolled his eyes. She didn't like this act of being a sappy couple either, but at least she looked believable.
"Удостоверение личности" the man in front of the club addressed the couple, Ghost didn't understand anything and it was thanks to Eden that the two were able to save their skins for the moment by pulling out their ID cards: Katia Zakharova and Luka Zaytsev, Reggie could choose two more strange fake names. Luckily, the bodyguard had believed these antics; they were safe.
"If you don't even know a little Russian, we're not off to a good start," Eden whispered, the techno music destroying both of their eardrums.
"Well, if you care so much, do the talking" he murmured, leaving her in the middle of the dance floor, preferring the quiet of the bar counter.God, now she had to babysit too?
"Strawberry mojito" she ordered, then waited for him.
"My treat big boy, tell me what you want?" Eden tried to calm the waters, like it or not, they had to cooperate.
"Bourbon, with little ice" he preferred to turn to the bartender and take his order personally, the bartender nodded and began preparing drinks for the two customers, within minutes they were there in front of them.
"At the moment it seems our man is not here" Eden looked cautiously, though her gaze was more on her mission partner, as if he was in a world of his own.
"I can tell you're from Manchester, only someone from Manchester could be wearing that jacket."
"I remember you are from London” Ghost delivered his sentence gruffly, sipping his alcoholic beverage contentedly.
"Birmingham, but I live in Bexley now."
The Mancunian's laughter made even the other two customers next to them, mere unwitting observers of the discussion between the two.
"A Brummie now I remember bloody hell" he brushed the corner of his own mouth with the tip of his tongue to remove the remaining alcohol and lower the balaclava.
"At least I made you smile big boy, and that makes me important "Eden winked at him playfully. Or maybe not.
A snort as an answer was more than enough for her to sing victory, the tension was high in 'the air especially considering the idiot hadn't shown up yet.
"Reggie I need camera monitoring, can you hack into their system?" Eden trusted in the young hacker's skills, 19 years old was indeed a prodigy of nature for that age.
"I need to infiltrate their surveillance system but I can do it miss"
An exchange of complicit glances between Eden toward Ghost hinted that the situation was under control, it almost seemed as if they had come there for nothing.
Then lightning struck, their target was sitting in one of the small sofas, surrounded by bodyguards and "taken care of" by two girls, who making him feel like a king.Usual man with delusions of grandeur.
"Did you notice that too?" Eden nodded at Ghost's comment, then getting up from her own stool.They had to attract attention if they wanted to succeed in catching him, and Eden knew exactly how.
"Get up, it's just to get the boiled fish to bite" she put her hand forward, with a reluctant Ghost agreeing. In the end it was for a 'common goal no?What could go wrong?
"Don't be a log move!" she incited Ghost to let go, Prodigy's "Firestarter" playing in the background in that parade of moving bodies. The Mancunian took the agent by the hip, making her lean back against his own muscular body.
"Just this once Park" he pronounced boredly, causing her to rub against his ample figure. The way Eden moved against Ghost, sensuously was apparently enough to attract Kulikov's attention.And to Ghost apparently to make him almost docile.
"A bodyguard is coming, maybe this is it" the MI6 agent whispered in the SAS soldier's ear, who as expected were joined by the man in a suit and tie.With his head he indicated for her to follow him and Ghost behind her was about to follow but the bodyguard stopped him by hinting that only Eden had been invited, it was quite a problem now.
"I can handle it" Eden reassured him, following the bodyguard into the small area reserved for VIPs, now she was finally face to face with their target. The same man made the two girls stand up next to him, tapping on the couch to ask Eden to sit down. The man began to brag to the girl about his possessions, about the fact that anyway girls like her he saw every day in his bed, and Eden like a good actress played the part of the scatterbrained fool, trying to tell him that she was studying to be an archaeologist and that she needed the money.But something from time to time worried her, going for Ghost's gaze, who remained at the counter observing the scene, moving his glass of bourbon so that the ice melted quickly, almost compulsively.
"I would like to talk to you privately" the enemy's Russian accent made Eden awaken from the sort of catalepsy with which she had been watching Ghost; she was surprised that now Kulikov was not speaking to her in Russian but in English. She should have marked in her mind that she had to learn to make it more pronounced.
"Do you accept? Don't worry your boyfriend won't know anything Katya right?" it almost seemed as if the man was testing her.
"Yes Katya sir" she then saw him stand up and whisper something to his bodyguards before grabbing Eden by the hip in an almost violent manner. In another situation he would have gotten a slap, in that case, however, she was acting, making her personality subdued. One last look at Ghost to make sure he was ready and that she was all right, and the young woman followed the man to the upper floors until she arrived in front of a door.
"Ladies first" the Russian invited the girl inside, her eyes somehow seeking Ghost, seeing how from his seat he was observing the scene in a disgruntled way? Almost as if he was annoyed.
She entered the prive without asking herself too many questions, neon lights on purple and blue made the 'lounge atmosphere, like some sort of Blade Runner-esque sci-fi movie.Eden took a seat with some circumspection, analyzing every object present, with the former Spetsnaz filling two glasses with champagne.
"I got this in France some time ago, I always get my supplies right" he handed the goblet to Eden on the coffee table and then wrapped his arm around the spy's side, a shiver of disgust came over her face but which she tried to mask with a fake laugh.
"You still haven't told me how in short you managed to get all this, you know it's not nice to hide things anyway" she tried to come across as adorable by pouting, not unaware that behind them Ghost was in the shadows, observing them, just as soon as he had finished asphyxiating one of Vulikov's henchmen.
"Whatever you want Vasya, only if I can afford can I put some music? You know I can't do what you want with a little atmosphere...hot" she wrinkled her nose, receiving the 'man's approval. From the stereo played lounge music very much in keeping with the atmosphere.
"You seem very nervous to me" sinuously she moved her body over him, removing the jacket she was wearing, she looked like a siren enchantress who had trapped the poor unfortunate on duty in an endless loop.The Russian sighed, drops of sweat were brushing his forehead with Ghost who seemed to be watching the scene impassively.
But his hands, his hands clenched in those fists hinted to Eden otherwise.
"A beautiful woman like you deserves a man who will fully satisfy her," Vasya brought his hands to both of Eden's hips, who was taunting him to herself. It was amusing to see how little it took for a man to fall into the web, and Eden could excel at that.
"And would you be capable of that? What would you do for me?"
"Everything, you want the latest fashionable dress? I'll buy it for you. A trip to a Caribbean island? We leave tonight "he was looking at her already smitten with her, they had him in their hands.
"You know what I want instead?" Eden came dangerously close to his lips, with him already anticipating his lucky night of fire.
"What you want honey."
"She wants to know exactly where the shipment of that gas you are carrying is" Ghost, knife in hand pointed at the enemy's throat.Vasya was absolutely shocked, he later realized that the two henchmen outside the door had been sent to the heaven by the masked man.
"You did a very good job Ghostie" Eden clothed himself and began pacing back and forth, the nickname affixed seemed not to go down well with the Mancunian but he did not speak, rather he preferred to keep the blond Russian under observation.
"Стерва!" Vasya shouted at Eden, who released a giggle, he was not the first nor the last to call her a "whore", it did not affect her.
"Now the three of us are going to take a little walk," she looked out the office window, there were too many people to go out the main entrance.
"Move up you idiot" Ghost ordered, handcuffing the man.
"I won't ask where you got those handcuffs from, but we're not taking our asses home. Not going out the front door" her gaze was fixed on Vasya, he was their pass to run away.
"Talk" was Ghost's warning, and he seemed not to be kidding. Vasya pointed to the bookcase behind Eden.
"There is a button behind the plant."
Not waiting any more precious minutes she pressed the button, letting a mechanism unlock a door behind the 'enormous furniture, a whistle of approval escaped Eden's lips, overtaken, however, by a hurried Ghost.
"We don't have time, my car is parked in the area. Let's get it and take it to this fuckin’ place."
"Can you drive? I don't think so from the face, anyway it's Kharkiv" such a sentence made the masked man turn around, who couldn't believe his ears.Seventeen hours of driving was a long time.
"Look I know big boy it's a lot but Alexei and his sister Olga are the only people I trust" the outside hubbub of Kulikov's henchmen alerted Ghost, hurriedly the three of them entered inside the secret exit, walking down a small corridor that then led them to internal stairs. Crossing smoothly they came out to the outside, it seemed that the situation was under control but the scream of one of the men of the former Spetsnaz set the alarm bells ringing, leading Eden and Ghost to run with the enemy through the alleys of the neighborhood.
"Get in there!" the girl pointed to a doorway to Ghost and Vasya; it could be a momentary point of salvation for the three.
"Next time I will never wear..." Eden did not even have time to catch her breath, one of Kulikov's men grabbed her from behind forcing her to push him backwards onto the table.Two others were on Ghost, trying one to stop him and the other to knock the British man out with their fists.
"EDEN!" Ghost was attempting to free himself from the two, getting pummeled.Eden was trapped at the table, with the man she was fighting trying to choke her. A kick to his private parts and a headbutt led to him staggering as Eden, with a shattered nose staggered like a zombie. In a moment of lucidity the girl grabbed the lamp a few feet away from her, smashing it on her opponent's skull. Ghost on his side was still struggling, the man who was punching him threw himself at Eden, who tried to dodge and hit him with a steel pipe before falling knee-deep to the ground, it was a good moment for Ghost that, freeing himself from his enemy's grasp and hitting him repeatedly with his faithful knife. The three seemed to stop moving, but from a distance the voices of other enemies could be heard coming.
"Are you all right?" The masked man reached out to the brunette, receiving confirmation from her. Limping and groaning in pain she stood up.
"I've been on the verge of death too many times" looking around she saw Vasya in a crouching corner, strangely he had not taken the opportunity to run away.
Ghost immediately caught up with him, pushing him forward and reaching the other side of the hallway.Both he and Eden were battered, stealth tactics were a must this time.
"I can hear them, they're upstairs" whispered Eden, walking silently.In her heart she hoped the heels of her boots could not attract attention.
"My men are more loyal than your whole group of invaders" Kulikov teased them, neither Eden nor Ghost responded but surely both wanted to break his neck. Only they had to get out of there before they did.
"These bastards have tough hides, we'll never get to my fuckin car" Ghost exited the building and looked around until he saw Eden pointing a gun at a poor bystander about to get into his own car.Desperate times call for desperate measures, using even inconvenient means.
"I'll drive, you don't seem lucid at the moment. Stay in the back with our friend "Ghost put the car in gear, starting the engine amid the screams in Russian of the man whose car was being stolen.
"Yeah? You don't seem so reliable" she narrowed her eyes, her vision blurring, literally seeing the typical dots of when one is on the verge of fainting. And almost like a seer she predicted correctly: Ghost literally drove into the car behind him.
"We'll never get there alive," Kulikov burst out laughing, chilling from Ghost's killer stare.
"He's right, at the border between St. Petersburg and Kharkiv is the military patrol" Eden got out of the car, forcing the passerby to take the wheel.
"Двигай, нам нужно в Харьков" the MI6 agent pointed her gun at 'the address of the poor man who had found himself at the wrong time.It was going to be a
very long journey.
Kharkiv, a few hours later
It had not been easy for Eden and Ghost to cross Ukrainian soil; it was only thanks to the cooperation of the man they had "taken hostage" that the two managed to escort Vasya Kulikov to Kharkiv. It was almost a miracle, most likely due to the fact that the policemen were a bit tipsy from alcohol.
"Are these friends of yours reliable?Did you tell about the situation?" Ghost peppered Eden with questions as together with her and the Russian they walked through the ground floor of the building where Alexei and his sister Olga lived.
Eden had met them on a mission some time ago, Alexei was a 'Ukrainian intelligence agent with whom he had collaborated to scour a cell of Al Qatala terrorists, a notorious group of terrists led by the "Wolf" who were preparing an attack on Plóshcha Svobódy(Freedom Square).
In those days she had also met his sister Olga, a lawyer and well-known women's rights activist.
"I'm reliably quiet, I've explained more or less the thing" Eden was trying throughout to light a cigarette, damn lighter that wouldn't light.
"You shouldn't smoke in the elevator" Ghost leaned his full weight against the metal wall, the pain from the scuffle with those bastards was already being felt.
"It's a tiny, harmless cigarette" Eden turned to Kulikov, on the one hand she felt more relaxed now that they had him in their grasp, but she did not let her guard down.It would not be easy to get him to talk given the muteness into which he had fallen.
"Come on, shush move" Eden invited the Russian to move, Ghost beside her who from behind the Russian's back had the knife pointed, ready for anything. Apartment 217, the Koval family 's apartment. Memories of evenings playing cards and eating typical Ukrainian dishes made Eden smile slightly, and she groaned as she knocked three times, only to pause two seconds and give one last knock.
"Eden?" A tall, burly boy opened the door, who then looked in shock at Ghost and Vasya.
"No Eden don't..." the boy paused hearing his sister call him in his native language and ask what was going on.
"Oh God Eden are you..." the young woman's gaze then fell on the two behind the MI6 agent, it took a hangdog look from the latter to convince Alexei to let them in. Their parents were on vacation, and if the neighbors would see or hear things they would call the police.
"Is he tied up good?" Eden looked from the vinyl shelf to see if she could find anything to muffle the sound of Kulikov's screams as Ghost was tying the Russian to the chair.
"A fuckin’ perfect knot, you sure are good at making plans" the Mancunian's wry tone made the raven-haired girl roll her eyes.
"Well my plan saved your arse" then she looked at Kulikov, who smiled sneeringly at her.
"Do you really think I will talk? You can also cut off my dick and feed it to that Persian cat who is watching that I won't say anything."
"Hey what did my cat do to you?" Olga picked up her own cat, Alexei ordered her to leave taking a vinyl of Edith Piaf's La vie en rose and giving it to Eden.
"I'll alert intelligence in the meantime, make quick, work of it" the two nodded to the Ukrainian. Humming Eden reached for the record player, placing the 'circular object on top of it.
"You better talk if you want a chance to be able to live, even if in prison" Eden, with both hands resting on Vasya's knees leaned forward toward him.
"It's a shame that pretty face you have is marred by your own blood. You should care instead of wasting time" he grimaced almost smugly at seeing her in that condition.
"That..." Ghost's hand rested on her shoulder, the young woman felt strange sensations at that very moment.Concern?
"That's the only thing I give him credit for, you're battered."
"It's not that you look good. I'm not a child" she turned to Ghost, causing him to shake his head and sigh.
"Talk Kulikov, I don't have all day" then she returned her focus to her target, who burst into an annoyed laugh.
"You don't know what you are up against, something involving the whole world is being discussed here."
Now they knew a modicum of what they were targeting, all that remained was to find out where the cargo was headed.
"She asked you a question, answer it. Where is the cargo?" Ghost with the blade of his knife grazed the former Spetsnaz's fingers, openly challenging him.
"Do you think maybe you scare me mh? You have no idea what these eyes saw..."
He did not even let himself say it, sticking the blade on the knee of the man who endured the pain by chewing his lips.
"Now it's the knee, next could be a finger. An ear, or...your dick.The big guy here doesn't go easy" Eden slammed her hands on the shoulders of the Russian terrorist who cursed in his native tongue, pointing with her head at Ghost who was sharpening the next blade he would use.
"In St Petersburg, the cargo is in a factory is owned by Gazprom in the vicinity of St. Petersburg, it serves as a cover" the Russian decided to speak.They had the information on where the cargo was, it seemed to have been all too easy as a thing.Eden with what they had found out immediately called Reggie.
"Gosh Eden I thought you were dead "Reggie was relieved to hear his friend's voice.
"I'm hard to die, anyway we'll get him to talk and give us exact directions to the location. Rog" closed the call she looked straight at Ghost, handing her a pen and paper to jot down the coordinates. Kulikov like a robot dictated the exact numbers where the cargo area was located.
After a few hours the two tasked Alexei with taking Kulikov to Ukrainian intelligence, given the history he had including terrorist attack planning it was much better for him to rot in Ukraine.
"This mission was like you walked me through a field full of pins, heels that high rest assured I will never wear them again" with more lightness on her shoulders for the success of the mission Eden gladly got Olga to give her a more comfortable pair of shoes, noticing how Ghost was touching his nose making noises of pain.
"Olga get me a medical kit and some ice."
"No" he insisted but the ginger-haired girl had already run to get the necessities. Looking like that didn't make him tough but just a stupid donkey.
"You have to take off the balaclava" he seemed to look at her with an expression that screamed he wouldn't even think about removing that piece of cloth from his face.
"You're not going anywhere if you whine Batman."
"Ya never give up do ya?" his hoarse, indignant voice hinted that maybe just this once he would agree:but on one condition.
"Oh okay, then I'll go get ready. I have to bring a case, domestic violence" With that sentence Ghost's gaze seemed lost almost in the void.As if he had unlocked something.Left alone Eden opened the case, brushing the edge of the balaclava.
"I can do it myself" he removed balaclava, showing his sculpted features, with the marks of the scuffle he had had with Kulikov's men turned purplish.
"And you didn't want to get help, what an ass" she applied some ointment to his cheek area, seeing him relax at her imprints on his skin.
"You're good as a nurse, you should think about a career change" he joked, holding the bag of ice to his forehead.
"That ice pack is hibernating your brain" she feigned indignation but with a hint of a smile. Underneath it all this Ghost didn't look bad as a person, a bit of a sourpuss but it was appearance. Olga looked at them as if before her stood an old couple, the kind that came out in a 1950s movie.
"My, aren't you two cute, you should go out together."
"No!" The two immediately at attention pointed out, crossing their gazes and laughing. It had been since she had been cheated on by her ex Mark that she had never thought of dating another man, throwing herself heart and soul into her work.
"If she weren't such a know-it-all I'd go out with her" Ghost came up with that statement that made the woman frown, tossing her wig in the trash.
"I'm going to take a shower, stay with that thought" Eden left the kitchen and Ghost.That on her face had was a smug grin.
London, March 20, 2019
Two months had passed since those days in Russia and Ukraine, Eden was on one of many relaxing days after returning a few days ago from a mission at Costa in the company of her best friend Chloe to visit the city.Brownies and muffins were placed on the table ready to be eaten by the two girls, who could finally spend some time together.
"By the way, I wonder where that guy you told me about ended up, he seems like an obnoxious one" Chloe after a small bite of her brownies said offhandedly.
"I don't know, after we got back to St. Petersburg he disappeared" Eden's mind began to ramble about the night she and Ghost had last seen each other.
"It really hurts you to smoke, you are young and a beautiful girl."
"Have you fallen in love with me?I'm not someone to fall in love with."
"Well why deny that you are a pretty girl?I would be an idiot and a blind man"
"You're not bad at all either"
"You're not bad at all either, I missed talking to you in Nicaragua but I guess our paths have to part again."
Such melancholy memories moved to them near the Nevá River, with light snow falling. To how in her heart if only she hadn't let her past affect her she would have given himself a chance to be known.Seeing him turn and walk away after smiling at her like that...god she had been a fool to let him slip away again.
"What are you thinking? "At some point Chloe brought her back to the reality of that little bar, she felt disoriented.
"I don't know Chloe but my mind is on him, and that's not good" to recover herself she sipped some hot chocolate, an effect that did not wear off.
Damn why now she couldn't get him out of her mind.It had been going on for days.
"You should try calling him even though actually-" the ringtone of Eden's phone vibrated inside her mini bag.
"It will be my grandmother, surely it's her."
She turned on her phone, a message from an anonymous number.
"Do you remember when you said I would be a blind is an idiot? You know I'd like to see you again before I leave, if you'd like we can make it tomorrow at 8 p.m. I know just the place that would suit us."
"Jesus Christ, how did he get my private number?" She shook her head amused.
"I warn you, I'm very picky with food," she typed, receiving as a response something that made her heart flutter.
"I love a challenge, and I am sure I will be able to win you Eden.”
Ain't it a gentle sound, the rollin' in the graves?
Halloween is near, so i decided to do a little AU! for Blood and Wine series.
Meet Vampire!Red everyone.
I decided to make prompts that might turn into a one shot soon.
Special thanks to @cloudofbutterflies92 for the pic and inspo❤.
Song inspo: Hozier - NFWMB
Vampire!Red who didn't ask to be a vampire but takes it well enough to control her hunger.
Vampire!Red who works with Laswell and CIA because of her abilities and need to help others the best she can.
Vampire!Red laughing at stereotypes about vampires and mythical creatures.
Her working with TF141 and not wanting to scare them away.
TF141 being a bit flabbergasted by the fact that vampires are real.
Soap asking lots of questions about Vampire!Red's food habits only to find out she is able to eat human food but it doesn't fill her up as good as blood.
Ghost who feels weirdly drawn to the vampire and thinking it's because this might be one of her powers.
Price smoking much more often since he found out vampires are real but still being kind towards Red.
Gaz needing a few moments to digest the information.
Vampire!Red being awkward about people knowing she's not human, trying to act nonchalant and failing miserably.
Ghost and Vampire!Red being partners on the field even if Red doesn't like being in the battlefield.
Vampire!Red being femme fatale without wanting to be one yet embracing it completely.
Vampire!Red not understanding and not being able to read Ghost as well as others in TF141.
Vampire!Red not letting anyone too close.
Vampire!Red feeling the need to push away any romantic thoughts but still wanting to love.
Vampire!Red liking the feeling of being included by people and having friends again.
Vampire!Red feeling people's sadness.
Ghost thinking of Red not as a vampire, but as a woman.
Beautiful Person Award! Once you are given this award, you're supposed to paste it in the ask of people who deserve it. If you break the chain, nothing happens, but it's sweet to know someone thinks you're beautiful inside and out! 🌸💚
I have not been active on this platform for a long time. I had no motivation to post anything at all. Honestly think nobody is really interested in my stuff.
I'm tired and unmotivated but i still hope I'll finish this chapter soon enough.
I've been thinking about deactivating this page because toxicity is getting to me. But on the other hand i don't like leaving this work unfinished.
We'll see.
"Hey, Red," came Major Adam Black's deep, steady voice on the other end of the line. "Long time no hear. What’s up?"
"Adam," she began, a small smile tugging at her lips despite the seriousness of the situation. "I will be talking quickly. I need your help. I'm working on Hassan psychological profile, and there's something off. I can't put my finger on it, but my gut is telling me there's more to this than anyone realizes."
"Figures you'd call with a puzzle," Adam chuckled, a warm, familiar sound. "You always did love the tricky ones. What’s the scoop?"
"I need more information," she said. "There are gaps in his story, inconsistencies that don't make sense. I think it's important. I think it's something bigger than CIA thinks it is."
"Intriguing," Adam replied, his tone growing more serious. "Alright, send me everything you have. I’ll reach out to some contacts. We'll crack this together."
"Thanks, Adam," Red said, relief washing over her. "I knew I could count on you."
"Always," he said, the smile evident in his voice. "I missed this, you know? Stay safe, Red. We'll get to the bottom of this."
