Chapter Text
It’s always freezing on bases. It doesn’t matter what anyone says, or which base I’m on. Despite the uncertainties that come with this job, I can always be certain that sleeping quarters will feel as though hell itself froze over at 4 am. And that’s exactly how it feels waking up at the ass-crack of dawn in the barracks of the Shadow Company.
Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling, pondering every decision I had made thus far that had gotten me here. As an internationally commissioned army medic, my role is to provide medical support to different teams as part of an alliance. I had been well aware of this when I began my career ten years ago. Astonishingly, I had made it this far into my career. Often, medics are the first ones picked off the field. If a team is without its medic, it is easier to eliminate. I am both the pawn and the queen in this elaborate game of chess. A game played unfairly by men with far too much power and very little skin in the game.
I try not to dwell on why I've survived this long. May it be sheer luck or something supernatural, it makes no difference to me. I go where I’m needed. It doesn’t matter how I’m still here; I need to do my job. Part of me wants to pretend like this was all fine, but the other part wants to scream that this wasn’t right. For the first time in my life, I will bear no flag and fight for no country, in particular. I owe no allegiance. I belong everywhere but nowhere at the same time, to every nation but no one in particular.
The feeling of unease makes my gear feel heavier as I suit up for morning drills. My boots feel like they’re made of lead rather than synthetic leather and nylon. Gloves feel both too tight and not tight enough. The discomfort serves as a reminder of what I’m leaving behind. This life is all I’ve known for so long; this place is more than just a base to me. It’s my home. Still, I push through, despite the pit in my stomach and tightness in my chest. Nothing a few deep breaths can’t get rid of. Barely registering the blows of the whistle as the lieutenant barks orders at me and my comrades. Her eyes are sharp, keen, as though she could see our very souls and the cores of our beings. I genuinely hope that she can’t, because if she did, she’d know that I really was scared. I was going somewhere that’s so classified it barely exists.
Amidst the usual pain of training, a realization dawns on me. I chose this life, fully aware of the risks, downsides, and hypocrisy. And because I made this choice, I must accept the task at hand. I must leave this place I have called home for so long. And that has to be ok with me.
Despite my nerves, by the time we get to breakfast, it feels like I haven’t eaten in a week. Grabbing my tray, I sit down at my usual table; the chipped paint of the metal chairs and the well-worn table give a sense of comfort in a sort of nostalgic way.
“Hey Dove!” A cheerful voice greets me, pulling a smile from my otherwise dour expression
“Hey, Pearl! How’d the recruits treat you yesterday?”
I get an eye-roll from her, “About as well as you’d expect. One of them was EXTRA lippy with me, saying something like ‘I’m not gonna listen to a girl!’,” She mocks the recruit’s voice as she does. “But it’s ok, Graves made him run more laps when he didn’t listen to me. Said that we don’t allow that kind of behaviour. And the rest of them were so scared I didn’t get another complaint from any of ‘em.” She says while taking a bite of her bagel.
Nodding, I butter my toast. “I’m glad Graves helped out. Some of those recruits come in here with such a bad attitude. Like, damn, it’s not the 60s anymore, dude.”
Pearl nods just as Rat joins us; he smiles, sitting next to Pearl.
“Hey guys, Dove, how’re we feeling about today?” His voice is laced with sweetness as he peels his orange. I shrug, finishing my toast off. “Good, it’s going to be fine, and hey, it’ll only be a few months. And besides, I’m the only one going, Viper’s still here.” I say, both Pearl and Rat nod, Rat smiling a little at the mention of his secret girlfriend. Pearl looks a little apprehensive, though.
“You ok?” I ask her. All I get in response is a non-commital hum from Pearl, which I decide is good enough for me. “Well, I should probably head out. The plane leaves in a couple hours, and I still have to do medical and talk to Graves.” I say, standing up from the table. Pearl and Rat stand up with me. Rat pulls me into a tight hug, not something he normally does, so I appreciate it. “Be safe.” He says, his voice an almost whisper. When he pulls away, I see tears in his eyes. I smile, patting his back. “I will as long as you do.” I turn to Pealr, who also pulls me into a hug, albeit a softer one. “Take care of yourself, Dove.” I nod, pulling away. “You too, Pearl.” With a final nod to them, I head to the meeting. But Pearl’s question bounces around in my mind. I’m only delaying the inevitable feeling of loss under the guise that some of my comrades, my friends, those who have been with me through all of this, I can’t ignore the growing pit in my stomach.
“Dove, are you listening?” The familiar voice of Commander Phillip Graves pierces through my thoughts. Standing in front of me is my soon-to-be ex-Commander. Despite it only being the two of us in his office, it feels like I can sense the judgments of all the other Shaodws on base. “Yes, sir.” Voice sounding far more confident than I feel, but at least it’s not that obvious. Graves nodded, lips pursed into a thin line, “Good, you need to be. As you know, today you are being transferred overseas.” A chill goes down my spine as the reality of the situation hits me. Hard. Still, I maintain eye contact unflinchingly, even though the desire to turn tail and run is ever-growing.
Graves maintained his composure and listed the details of my departure from the U.S. and my arrival on Allied ground in Europe. “You have been assigned to Task Force 141 under Captain John Price. You will serve the SAS as one of their own, and you will fulfill your duty as both an army medic and reconnaissance officer.” Graves’ voice was unnervingly steady and calm, ironically making me even more nervous. Still, I nod, gaze hard, and my lips are pressed tightly together; if I look calm, then no one can tell me that I’m not. “Yes, sir,” I say, with a calm, calculated voice.
Graves nods curtly and glances around the room, his gaze lingering on something in the background before focusing on me. In his brief silence, I try to memorize every detail of the office. Noting medals on the wall behind his desk and small trinkets he kept as memorabilia from missions past. Despite this being the office of a commander, it still held some character, something else besides war and fighting. A couple of model motorcycles rest on the bookshelf, and I even spy a copy of a southern cookbook on the bottom shelf. There’s a sense of uneasy warmth in this room, though, as if the shadows cast on the floor had the potential to chain me here. With that thought, I shuffle ever so slightly away from the one cast by the desk.
Graves sighs, rubbing his hand over his face. Blue-grey, like storm clouds, that’s the best way I can describe the eyes of the man that I wholeheartedly trust with my life.
“This is not going to be forever, this is just a temporary...loan. Your skills are needed elsewhere, but that doesn’t mean you no longer have a place here with us.” His voice is tight and strained, as if he's holding back. I nod, unsure of what to say. He forces a breath through his nose and closes his eyes for a moment. Looking back at me, he sighs again, “You’re a good person, you have a big heart, and that is an admirable quality.” An unexpected compliment that makes me smile a bit. I start to speak, but Graves keeps talking, “-but this world is not kind to those with big hearts—especially not Task Force 141. You are not ready for the people you are about to face, and I don’t say this to scare you; you say this to prepare you for what is to come. Do not let your guard down. They are our allies, but that does not make them your friends. You are replaceable to them; they do not know you as I or any of the other Shadows do. So, be careful. Understand? Don’t. Trust. Anyone.”
Graves’ voice seems to echo in the empty room, and I am silent for a moment, wondering if he had anything more to say. When he remains quiet, I speak. “I appreciate the advice, Commander. I will keep that in mind, but know that while I may be kind, I am anything but soft.” I know I sound more confident than I actually feel. Graves’ gaze softens for a split second, and he pauses before nodding, accepting my words as truth. He holds a stiff hand out to me, “It has been an honour and a pleasure to be your Commander. I look forward to seeing you again soon, soldier.” I shake his hand, “Thank you, sir. I look forward to returning to be a Shadow once more.” With a final salute, I exit Graves’ office. Something about it feels so final. Realistically, I’ll be back here in a few months —6 months tops. But still it feels like an end. Regardless, I had to keep moving and try to shake off the feeling, so I headed to the bunks to ensure I hadn’t left anything behind.
“So, the little Dove is finally leaving the nest, huh?” My stomach drops a little at the sound of a sharp, mocking tone coming from outside the door. Viper walks through the door, grinning. I huff out a breath, “Ha ha, very funny.” I gave her a half smile. She didn’t know anything, yet she knew everything. Her eyes lock onto mine, green and sharp like the jagged edges of precisely cut emeralds. “What can I say, I’m funny and you can’t deny it, Dove.” Stepping closer and brushing her hand along my jaw, she stares up at me with a gaze of curiosity. I don’t know what to do, so I just awkwardly stay still and unmoving until I come to my senses and manage to step back. “Yeah, so fun,” I say, rolling my eyes.
Viper follows me out to the tarmac, talking about something or other. I’m not fully paying attention; my mind is focused on what Graves had said. They are our allies, but that does not make them friends. Wow, way to inspire confidence, Graves. A soft sigh of relief escapes my lips when Viper finally takes the hint and stops talking as we reach the plane that will be taking me to Hereford. “Well, well, well, looks like this is it, Dove.” Viper remarks, crossing her arms over her chest. I nod, studying her for a moment. She smiles, her eyes lingering over my body for a moment before she meets my gaze. “Anyone ever told you that you look hot in your tactical gear?” She says with a smirk, and I roll my eyes, playing her compliment off and looking anywhere but her. “Viper, knock it off. If I didn’t know any better, I would assume you’re dating me and not Rat.” She chuckles and rolls her eyes, “Chill, birdy, it’s a compliment.” I laugh a little, but swear I see her eyes lingering on my lips. Dez doesn’t say anything, though, so I brush it off.
“Five minutes, Dove, let's go!” The pilot shouts as he climbs into the plane. I nod, looking to Viper. The tension in the air is thick; it feels wrong just to leave. I hesitantly offer Viper a hug, and she leans in and wraps her arms around my waist tightly. I hug her back and pull away after a moment. In that exact moment, I feel her lips press dangerously close to my own, missing them by a little bit. The sound that comes out of my mouth is a sort of half-squeak, and I take a quick step back as she giggles, “Sorry! That came out of nowhere! Anyway, I’m going to find Rat. See you around, Dove!” Although she apologized, there was not a hint of regret in her voice. “Oh-uh bye?” I say back as she disappears.
Trying to wipe the taste of her lip balm away with your sleeve, I climb into the plane. The pit in my stomach only grows as I replay what just happened in my head. That felt so…wrong. But there’s no time to dwell on that as the plan begins to roll down the runway. Looking out the window, the black tarmac blurs together as the plane lurches to life and starts rolling. The sky is grey and overcast, reflecting how I feel. Resting my head against the window, the vibrations of the plane eventually lull me to sleep.
“Look alive, soldier, we’re here.”
Being startled awake by a cranky pilot was not exactly the most promising start. Grumbling and reorienting to my surroundings, I realize that it’s somehow still daytime. I’d spent most of the flight in and out of sleep, trying to be as rested as possible so I’d be on my A-game come time to meet the new team. The constant state between sleep and awake made me lose track of time, but I’m wide-awake now, much to my chagrin. Wishing that the flight had lasted for an eternity, I brace for landing. Once the aircraft came to an abrupt halt, I deplaned, grabbed my bag, thanked the pilot —who couldn’t have cared less —and promptly hopped off the plane.
And now I’m by myself on the tarmac. I’m on my own. Looking around at this familiar yet unfamiliar place, it dawns on me that I have no fucking clue where to go, what to do, or who to talk to. It felt almost humiliating to be a combat-hardened soldier who has seen every type of bloody injury one can imagine, yet still gets anxious and begins to panic when left alone in an unfamiliar place. On missions, this wouldn’t matter; someone in charge is telling me what to do, and all I have to do is follow orders, but this? This is different. I don't belong anywhere. I haven’t met a single member of Task Force 141- I don’t even know if you could trust them based on what Graves said!
Although I’m standing still, I feel like Pheidippides running from Marathon to Athens. Heart in my throat, I quickly move out of the way of some recruits running laps.
“Excuse me-”
“Fuck off!”
“Okayyyy then.”
Good to know that everyone here likes me.
“Fucking Brits,” I mutter. Picking a direction and walking, eventually, I’ll figure out where I’m going. As I start walking, I’m aware of all the eyes watching every move I make. Sticking out like a sore thumb in Shadow Company gear is to be expected, but not a great start. I stare at my feet, trying to go unnoticed, and I walk right into a soft wall.
Watch it- ah.” A gruff voice makes your head snap up. I’d heard that voice somewhere. “ Shadow, we were expecting you.” Looking up, I’m met with a harsh blue gaze, sharp and intense. John Price, Captain of Task Force 141, and now, mine. “Captain.” I straighten up, “At ease, and for god’s sake, breathe. Don’t need you passing out on me, bloody muppet. Come on, this way.” He starts to walk towards the complex of what I can only assume are offices, realizing that Price is not going to wait, quickly shoulder my bag and hurry after him. Price isn’t much taller than me, maybe an inch or so, but he has the confidence of a man who is in charge of some of the most specialized soldiers in the world, which he is. I keep my eyes on him, nervous or focused, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is not dropping my guard, at least not yet.
Price leads me to his office and sits down in the chair behind his desk. Hesitantly, I follow and jump when I realize that we aren’t alone. I spot Ghost swiftly, though it’s hard not to, considering that he is an absolute unit of a man. The skull mask should not be nearly as intimidating as it is, but the way the should-be-hollow eye sockets of the mask frame his dark brown eyes is more intimidating than I’d care to admit. Dark brown, as the colour of blood-soaked dirt. I try not to meet his gaze as his eyes bore into my soul, it feels as though he is stripping me bare- and not in the fun way. Ghost says nothing. In the brief moment of shared eye contact, I feel my heart drop from my throat and plummet into my stomach. I nod to him, “Lieutenant.” Voice much softer than intended.
Price raises an eyebrow, “This is my Lieutenant, Simon Riley. Lieutenant Riley or Ghost is how you will refer to him.” The captain glances over to Ghost as he says this, seemingly for confirmation. Ghost gave Price a nearly imperceptible nod. “But it seems you know each other?” Price asks, more of a demand for information than a true question. “No, sir, I’ve just heard about him- Commander Graves gave me a brief rundown before I left.” I hastily explain, hating how clunky and wrong the words felt as they came out.
Price nods and tips his head towards the chair across from him. Sitting in the chair, and holding my bag to my chest for some reason, I don’t know why I didn’t just put it on the floor. I try not to make eye contact with Ghost, choosing to face Price instead. The chair creaks under my weight, and the sound is so loud in the otherwise dead-silent room. Price thumbs through my file, rubbing his thumb over his beard, quietly reading it before he leans back in his chair, looking you dead in the eye.
“So, tell me about yourself, Shadow.”