Chapter Text
Unfortunately, they wouldn't get a chance to talk, not the next day at least. Before the sun had even risen fully, after just a few hours of rest Price called all of them plus Gaz, Farah, Roach and Horangi for a briefing. If that hadn't been enough to concern König the fact that Price was already halfway through his first cigar of the day would've done it.
"We have a hostage situation. Political prisoners"
Words nobody wanted to get greeted by in the early hours of the morning, especially not the 141 operators. Hostages always meant trouble. Keeping a whole group of panicking civilians alive and quiet was a herculean task that none of them were looking forward to.
"What are the demands?", Ghost asked, opening the folder Price had handed each of them at the door. It was worryingly thin.
"They want the harddrive back that you retrieved a few weeks back, remember? And I'm pretty sure they're just itching to get back at the guys who took out fifteen of their men as well. Can't blame 'em, knew that whole shitshow would come back to bite us in the arse"
He shot Ghost a sharp glance but the Lt. didn't reply. He could accept the fact that he had fucked up. It was Horangi who spoke instead, asking: "What was on that drive anyways? If they want it back so badly"
Price sighed.
"Names, a lot of em. Spies, operators, whistle-blowers... Which means that we can't just grant them their wishes. If that drive gets back in their hands, many more people will die than just a few hostages... That doesn't mean I plan on just abandoning them tho. That's where you come in. You have three targets, an engineer, Maxwell Yanovich and two diplomats, Zachary and Eve Palmer. Gaz and Horangi, you take care of the husband. Farah and Roach get the wife. Finally, the rest of you get the engineer. That clear?"
The operators mumbled their confirmations, none of them too eager to get to the job even if they knew getting it done was unavoidable. Price nodded slowly before he laid out a satellite image on the table they were standing around.
"This is the camp they're being kept at, at least as far as we're informed. Most likely in this shack right here, but they might've been relocated since we last had our eyes on them, we can't be sure. They have guards on patrol day and night, but they seem to stick to the same schedule and some of them aren't quite as diligent as the others. Unless anyone has a better idea we strike at night, an hour or two before the next guard-swap when the ones on watch have tired themselves out. And, to make myself clear, we gotta do this quietly. Soap, you'll replace König as a sniper this time. We can't repeat last times faux pas"
Soap looked like he was about to jump his superior, at least until Ghost grabbed him by the shoulder, heavy gloved fingers digging into muscle.
Soap took a deep breath, trying his best to ground himself. Getting himself suspended wouldn't help anyone.
"With all due respect", he said through clenched teeth, "that grenade saved our lives. I don't deserve to be put on the bench for something unavoidable!"
"Wouldn't have been unavoidable if you two got out when König told you to. You're sniping"
"Not getting out the house was Ghost's decision! Why am I the only one getting punished?"
"Because Ghost is a shit sniper, that's why. Don't forget you're talking to your captain, son. Sit down", Price commanded, his voice making it more than clear that any further disagreements would get John in much hotter water than he was in already. Soap did the wise thing for once and held his tongue. His captain eyed him for a second longer and then nodded satisfied, before once again addressing the entire squad.
"König, you'll be going with Ghost in place of Soap. Get ready, liftoff is in an hour sharp. Don't be late or you're gonna be cleaning latrines for the next three months"
That was enough motivation to get the operators moving, but the atmosphere was tense and nobody was in the mood to converse more than absolutely necessary.
"Christ A'm sweatin' my balls off..", Soap muttered while he was watching the camp below them through his binoculars. They were waiting for nightfall, hidden in the rocky terrain around the enemy camp while the afternoon sun was burning down on all of them, but Soap seemed bothered by it the most out of all of them. Maybe it was his scottish genes, maybe he was still salty about Price's decision so he was eager to find something to vent his frustration about. Either way, he made sure everyone knew just how unhappy he was with the heat.
"We're all warm", Ghost grunted, one finger hooked beneath his balaclava to let at least a little bit of air under the thing. Soap didn't grace him with a proper answer, instead he just produced a displeased noise and went back to staring through his binoculars. A second later his body stiffened tho, his expression turning sour, even more so than before.
"... They're movin' the darn hostages, fuck me", Soap groaned, moving to the side just a little too quickly when Ghost kneeled down next to him and took the binoculars to observe the situation himself.
"The bloody main house. As if they fuckin' knew...", he sneered before sitting back with a deep sigh, dragging his hand over his masked face in frustration. He didn't show his feelings often, but the situation had just gotten ten times tenser and he could feel a massive migraine approaching. He decided that that was a problem for future-him tho, so he stood back up to address his comrades.
"Well. This doesn't change the fact that we have to pull through with the plan, we don't know how long they have left if we don't intervene. All we can do is wait for nightfall. If I had to guess I'd assume they're keeping them in the basement, but if we don't find'em there we'll have to search the house. Preferably without dragging attention to ourselves, I don't want to see anyone die today. That goes for you and the hostages. That clear?"
His response came in a cacophony of mumbled 'affirmative's, 'roger's and silent nods. None of the others looked particularly hyped over this new development, quite the opposite. Even the ones that had their faces covered just stood a little less straight than before. All except one, of course, König. The madman who almost looked springloaded, ready to go off at any moment, brimming with an energy that you'd never see him display on base. It was honestly a bizarre sight, but nothing new for the members of the 141. On missions König knew what to do with himself, even if he was no less fidgety. Now his fidgeting was just more motivated by excitement than anxiety, as morally questionable as that was. While most of the others were sitting - Gaz and Roach even laying down in the dust to get some rest before nightfall - König could barely stop himself from walking in circles.
Still, he didn't want to take any unnecessary risks so he eventually sat down as well, as far away from Ghost and Soap as possible.
After a few minutes bouncing his knee wasn't enough to get his energy out anymore and he was stuck nervously fidgeting with his fingers, occasionally looking over to the other two men while pulling on a loose hangnail until his finger almost started bleeding. Finally Ghost cracked, letting out an exasperated sigh and shooting König a sharp glance.
"Cut it out. If you need somethin' to do so badly, do some field strips for Christ's sake!", he snapped.
Ghost was uncharacteristically irritable, surprising both of them for a brief second. After a second of shock, König just nodded lightly and did what he was told. Still, his previous excitement was considerably dampened.
"Roger that, Sir"
It took a devastating amount of time until Ghost finally sat up as if he hadn't spent the last hour napping and gathered his gear. The sun had set hours ago and by this point everyone was eager to get moving again so they could soothe their aching joints a little. The only one cursed to stay up here was, of course, Soap, whose mood dropped significantly as soon as Ghost reminded him of that fact when he tried to get up as well.
He wanted to complain again, but was shut down quickly when Ghost spoke up before he got a chance.
"You're gonna be our eyes down there, Johnny. We need you, y'know that. I trust you to do a good job", he said, almost a little too softly considering they weren't alone, and Soap's complaints melted like chocolate on a hot summer day. No matter what had happened in the weeks leading up to this, Ghost placing his in Johnny's hands with such ease would never not make the scot proud and he'd do everything he could to earn that trust over and over again. Even if that meant laying up here in the dust for hours, spine and elbows hurting from the position he was in. Even if that meant watching Ghost go down there with König, only thing connecting them being the radio.
He'd keep his lieutenant safe.
He watched the other six through the scope of his rifle, occasionally switching to look at the enemy base instead. So far everything looked calm tho, his comrades still being too far away to be spotted by the two guards he could see sitting at a table, some game of cards between them. If they were truly expecting them, they didn't let it show.
"Two guards, go around the back so they dinnea see you. Shouldn't be hard to take em out, but they're armed, be careful"
"Copy that"
Soap watched the team of operators circle around the camp and approach the main building from the back, splitting up and sneaking up on the guards before they could really process what was going on. It barely took more than ten minutes and they were hidden in the shrubbery behind the building, necks broken and eyes empty.
"Door's locked", Gaz grunted through the intercom and Soap inspected the place through his scope.
"Theres a window cracked around the corner, you should be able to get that open. Doesn't look very high security."
Gaz didn't answer anymore, but Soap could see him sneak over to the window and break it open quickly and - hopefully - quietly.
A moment later everyone had disappeared inside and Soap started observing the camp, always on the lookout for the slightest hint of danger.
Ghost gave his comrades a quick handsign causing them to spread out, looking for the entry to the basement. The house may have looked abandoned from the outside, but there was noise coming from one of the rooms and light spilled through the gap between floor and door so each and every one of them was as quiet as they possibly could be in their heavy boots on the creaky wooden floor.
When Gaz found the trapdoor to the basement and saw that the stairs leading down were made from stone he almost released a relieved breath but obviously held himself back, not wanting to risk making unnecessary noise.
Still, the quicker they found the hostages the quicker they could get out of there. Opening the latch didn't take long, the lock and chain that kept it close were relatively flimsy so a strike with the heel of his rifle was enough to break the former.
Ghost gave Roach a sign to wait and keep watch while the others snuck down into the basement.
Down there it was dark and uncomfortably humid, almost...wet. Next to the stairs was a sink with a dripping faucet, the wet towels hanging over it making König stall and just... stare for a few moments before he got dragged along by his lieutenant. Luckily for them, the basement wasn't horribly big. A few narrow doors were leading to crawlspaces and rooms that barely counted as glorified closets, only one of them locked with a padlock that looked even shabbier than the one on the basement latch had been. Farah made quick work of it and pushed the door open, revealing the hostages, huddled together in pain and fear. Two of them at least. Mister and Missus Palmer, the diplomats, now looking a hell of a lot less diplomatic and a hell of a lot rougher. Hair wet and noses bloody, suits reduced to rags. When they realized who was standing in the door their panic turned into relief tho, having expected someone much worse.
Still, that relief wasn't mirrored on the faces of the operators, especially Ghost's and König's. The engineer, Maxwell Yanovich, was absent. Gaz seemed to realize that too, crouching down next to the shocked diplomats.
"We're going to get you out of here, you'll be alright. I have one very important question tho, you were captured with another man, did you see where they brought him? Do you know if he's still alive?"
The man looked like he had seen deep into the maws of hell and was clearly not in a state where one could answer any questions, but his wife managed to kick her brain into gear after a few seconds of just staring at Kyle. After a few more of stuttering and stumbling over her own words, trying to get her thoughts in order, König stepped in.
"Take a deep breath, Eve, you're safe now. We just need to get Maxwell out of here as well, but nobody will hurt you or your husband again, I promise. You just need to tell us what you know"
It took another moment and a few deep breaths for the woman to get her racing heart under control, but eventually, she finally got a straight sentence out.
"Couldn't see anything, they blindfolded us when they brought us here.. but I could hear someone getting dragged up the stairs when we got into the house, think it was Yanovich"
Ghost groaned quietly, pinching the bridge of his nose through the fabric of his balaclava. This mission just kept turning into more of a pain in the ass by the minute. Still, he couldn't do anything about it, so he just nodded.
"Alright. König and I'll find Yanovich, you four get them to the chopper safely."
Horangi wanted to argue, clearly unhappy with that idea, but Ghost shot him down pretty immediately.
"I don't want to hear it, we decided on this before we left. We knew this might happen, that's why we made teams. We'll be fine and someone's gotta look after these two. Now go, when we're not after you in ten minutes you go back in. That clear?"
Horangi's mouth closed, despite the fact that he was still obviously against the idea. Still, eventually he nodded curtly.
"Affirmative"
They made it back up the stairs together, every two operators taking a diplomat between them so they wouldn't topple over. Only König and Ghost had different priorities. Instead of heading back to the window, they made their way up the stairs after informing Soap about the information. The scot was about as on board with Ghost's plan as Horangi, but he wasn't there to convince his Lt. otherwise.
König followed Ghost up the tight stairway, hunched over so he wouldn't hit his head on the low ceiling. When they saw the... confusing layout of the first floor, Ghost almost groaned quietly until his gaze traveled up the stairs to the attic. This time they weren't met with a locked door, they weren't met with a door at all. The only thing separating the attic from the stairs was a moth-eaten curtain, behind which they could hear quiet shuffling, like a person squirming on the floor. The two of them exchanged a look and quick nod before skipping the first floor to go straight to the attic. It was at least worth a try.
Ghost peeked through one of the holes in the curtains before he pulled them back after making sure the writhing body on the bare wood floor was the only one in the tight room. Once inside he quickly checked the supply closet next to the empty doorframe, but apart from some junk and tools it was empty.
König crouched down next to the hostage and spoke as quietly and calmly as possible: "Mr. Yanovich, I'm going to get that gag off of you now, but I need you to be quiet, understand?"
Maxwell stopped fighting the restraints and nodded, now just shivering slightly. König gently took off the gag they had put on him before starting to cut him loose. Only a moment later he had to stop again tho, Ghost pulling back his hands and pointing in the direction of the stairs. And really, down there a door had opened and now increasingly alarmed voices echoed through the building. A few seconds later Soap came in through the comms as well.
"You might wanna get on with it, they discovered the open window, I think... yeah, guys are running out the house now, get your asses out of there!"
König just wanted to cut the ties when he heard multiple pairs of heavy steps on the stairs. He pushed the gag back into Yanoviches mouth pretty unceremoniously before grabbing Ghost and dragging him into the supply closet, just in time before the curtain got ripped back forcefully and four armed men entered the attic.
Both König and Ghost flattened their breaths as far as humanly possible, listening for what was going on outside, even tho they were unable to understand the infighting between their enemies.
All of a sudden, Ghost felt König's body tense. Usually he might not have noticed, but now that there was barely enough space for a sheet of paper between them it was impossible to miss.
For a moment Ghost didn't understand, but then his eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness and he saw it too. What he had previously believed to be tools and junk appeared much more sinister on closer inspection. A wet rag laid out to dry over a bunch of water canisters. A wrench that still had blood on it, next to a shovel that didn't look much better. A car battery with some jumper cables. Sights they both knew well, a kind of pain that had burnt itself into both of their memories, even if they had never talked about it. Ghost had already had... a hunch after what happened on their patrol, but this solidified it. Still, his lips stayed sealed, no matter how much he wanted to comfort his friend or break down himself right now. Both he and König were painfully aware of the fact that if either of them gave into the onsetting panic now, they'd get some new traumatic memories to add to the old ones very soon. König bit back sobs and forced his breaths calm and steady while silent tears were streaming down his face and Ghost felt the shovel's handle dig into his back like the muzzle of a gun, sending shivers down his spine despite the damp heat of the closet. Still, he didn't react. He didn't break back then and he wouldn't break now, he'd have enough time for that after they got out of this alive.
If they got out alive.
Slowly but surely the smell of blood drang into both their noses and the sound of voices - english ones this time - into their ears.
"Someone tried to cut you loose. Where are they?", one of the men barked, voice husky from alcohol and cigarettes.
Ghost bit his lip. He had hoped they wouldn't notice the cut marks but apparently god wasn't on their side today.
"I- I don't know!", Yanovich stuttered, right before the sound of a boot meeting skin and breaking bone, followed by a deep groan and a gun getting loaded cut through the silence.
Ghost bit his lip, turning on his mic so Soap could hear what was going on.
"I won't ask again. Where?"
Yanovich stayed quiet for a second. When he spoke again, fear tainted his voice.
"I'll tell you just- please don't shoot!"
König froze up, Ghost reached for his weapon. If the Austrian was in no state to defend himself, Ghost would do it for him. Even tho he knew that it was a losing battle. Soap's voice came cracking through the intercom, panicked.
"Ghost? What's going on? It's almost been ten, the others are about to go back for you."
Ghost clutched his gun harder.
"Ghost, do you copy?"
He squared his shoulders, pushed König behind him.
"Simon, please, do you copy?"
Simon took a deep breath, preparing for the worst.
"Si, please... fuck.. if you can still hear me, I love you. I'm coming for you"
"They... they're hiding. There"