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euovennia · 1 year

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widow CH. III

pairing: soap x fem!reader

a/n: full disclosure: this chapter may feel a bit half baked in comparison to the others (in my mind at least) but rest assured, the next one will be more mission based and i've already got a ton of ideas bouncing around for that so stay tuned!! (also thank you so much for 550+ followers, you guys are spoiling me i swear)

friendly reminder that this work is written with a fem!reader in mind, but with no specified features

PROLOGUE, CH. I, CH.II, CH. IV

The lights of the conference room are turned off and the blinds shut as Laswell flicks the projector on. The group is silent as they come face to face with the image of a man appearing to be somewhere in his early fifties holding a phone up to his ear as he gets into a black car. His lips are turned downward in a frown and despite the graininess of the image, it's clear that his eyes are filled with something eerie. Something sinister.

“This is Ivan Volkov. He’s been a person of interest for the CIA for over fifteen years.”

The man with the mohawk speaks, “Why’s that?”

“Volkov has been suspected of various crimes over the years, but the most prevalent among them all is his…creativity when it comes to human trafficking.”

Laswell switches the slide from the picture of Volkov to one that showcases the infamous hourglass symbol accompanied by various faces of little girls surrounding it.

“The main reason the CIA has had their eye on Volkov for so long is because of his practice of taking young girls, often through force, and putting them through rigorous training program so they can join his own personal team of workers, namely assassins. He calls it the Red Room.”

Union Jack cap cuts in, “And why hasn't he been taken in already?”

Laswell sighs, “Because no one could prove that he was actually doing such things so we just had to sit by and do nothing except wait for him to slip up. Unfortunately that never happened, at least not directly.”

Laswell nods her head in the direction of Shadow.

“Four years ago, Shadow was able to confirm the existence of the Red Room. Since then, she's been gathering intel on Volkov in order to pinpoint the exact location of the Red Room as well as mass pick up points for the girls he keeps hidden away until he can put them into the Red Room.”

Mohawk decides to speak up once more, “If Volkov’s gone and kidnapped them, why are they so keen on working for the lad?”

“We can't say for sure, but I think it's safe to assume the reason these girls are taken so young is because their brains are still developing. At that stage, it’d be rather easy for him to get in and manipulate them into doing his dirty work for him.”

Not wanting to stay on the topic of what Volkov did to these girls, what he did to her, Shadow decides to interject.

“So what’s your plan to catch him? I’m assuming that’s why you’ve rounded us all up here.”

As soon as the words leave her mouth, everyone in the room turns their attention to her. The three unfamiliar men each showcasing varying degrees of surprise while Price and Laswell both seem to be caught off guard by the woman’s voice unexpectedly cutting through the conversation. Deciding not to vocalize the collective wave of shock rolling through the small room, Laswell simply nods.

“Yes, you’d be correct.”

Wanting to redirect the boys’ attention off Shadow, he speaks up.

“What’ve you got for us then?”

“You’ll first be flown into the heart of Moscow and dropped off at a base there before meeting up with a few contacts of mine based in Russia. They’ll drop you off ten klicks north of a village by the name of Samat where a close contact of Volkov’s resides; Sergei Magerovski. He, unfortunately, won’t be there the night you arrive so you’ll have to stay in a safe house just outside of the village. Once he arrives however, your job will be to apprehend him and get him to reveal the location of the Red Room. From there, Shadow will get in contact with me and we’ll plan accordingly.”

Price sighs as he gives Laswell a skeptical look, “That’s the plan? Seems half baked to me.”

Laswell shrugs as she leans back in her chair, “Out of all the enemies we’ve faced, Volkov is by the far the most elusive and secretive. It took hours just to find anything about Magerovski’s existence. Call him what you want, but he’s a smart man. He knows how to hide.”

Price spares a glance over to Shadow who gives him a near hesitant nod of her head before turning back to Laswell.

“Alright then. When do we leave?”

Laswell smiles, “Tonight.”

After the rather short meeting with Laswell had ended, Shadow was the first one out the door. While it wasn’t her intention to come off as rude to the rest of the team, she knew that’s what it probably looked like. So much for being a team player.

Even so, she refused to dwell on the small interaction and instead decided to start getting her gear together for the upcoming mission thinking it would take a while. Unfortunately she managed to gather everything she needed rather quickly, even with all of the extra bulk she’d be carrying around. While she greatly preferred to keep the amount of gear she took with her on missions minimal, she knew she’d need to carry a bit more than what she was used to. Not only to keep up with what was sure to be a hellish force of Volkov’s army of assassins, but also her new teammates for the time being.

What a strange word, she thought, teammates.

She continued to mull over the single word throughout the rest of her day. Even now as she sat in the back of the plane in one of the seats lined against the walls, bag neatly tucked under her seat as her fingers tap against her thigh in time with the piano notes of Beethoven’s ‘Moonlight Sonata’.

Upon hearing footsteps approach her, she switches her music player off and rips out her earbud before turning her attention to the origin of the noise where she's pleasantly surprised to see Price approaching her with two cups of pudding in his hands. She wraps her headphone cable around the music player as she speaks.

“Why do you have pudding?”

Price sits beside her and holds one out to her before replying, “It’s Friday.”

The woman catches in quickly as she takes the cup of pudding from his outstretched hand.

“Our dessert day.”

Price gives her a nod of confirmation before pulling out two spoons from his pocket and sticking one in her cup. She mumbles out a small ‘thank you’ before they begin eating.

Surprisingly, Shadow is the first to speak.

“How do you feel about the mission?”

Price gulps down his spoonful of vanilla pudding before responding.

“Wish it was a bit more well laid out, but what can you do? The bloke is a dodgy little twit. What about you?”

The woman plops her spoon in the remaining bit of her strawberry pudding as she takes a few moments to think. On one hand she was more than happy to be going after Volkov, but on the other hand, she couldn't help but feel like something awful was going to happen.

“I’m not sure. I suppose I’m feeling a mix of things.”

“Understandable, but you've gotta feel the least bit proud of yourself, no? You've been tracking this arsehole for the better part of four years now. Must be nice to have the go head to finally get after him.”

She sighs, “It is, but I have a bad feeling. Something doesn't feel right.”

Price gulps down the last bite of his pudding, “You sure that feeling doesn't have anything to do with the fact you’re working with a team for once?”

She takes in another gulp of her pudding, “Pretty sure. It feels different.”

Price bites down on his lip before turning to her and resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder, a small wave of pride flooding his chest when he notices she doesn't flinch at his touch like she used to.

“You know well enough by now to know I can't tell you everything’s gonna go right, kid.”

Her lips purse in thought.

“But,” He gently turns her head to face him, “I can promise you that my men and I will be there with you every step of the way. You’re part of the team now, even if it is just for this mission.”

He pulls his hands away from her and leans back against the seat before she decides to speak.

“Thank you, Price…I appreciate that.”

He waves her off.

“No need for all that. Just do me a favor and start calling me Captain Price. At least when we're around the others. Higher rank and all that.”

She’s quiet for a few moments.

“Technically I don't have a rank.”

Price jokingly rolls his eyes at her comment.

“Fuckin’ mercies,” He mutters.

“Mercies?”

“Mercenaries. That's what my old Captain used to call ‘em. Suppose I took after him.”

She nods as she finishes off the last of her pudding.

“You've still gotta refer to me as Captain Price, or even just Captain.”

This time she’s the one to roll her eyes as she crosses her arms with a small smile.

“Yeah, fine. I’ll entertain it.”

“I’m being serious, kid.”

“Mhm. Yeah, whatever you say Captain Price,” she replies in a mocking tone.

He shakes his head in mild disapproval. As much as he wants to scold her for not taking him as seriously as he’d like, he couldn't bring himself to do so. It was a rare sight to see her initiating conversation, much less take part of his playful teasing. He didn't have the heart to ruin it.

Just as she opened her mouth to say something, the sound of multiple pairs of boots padding across the metal flooring of the plane made its way to her ears. Both she and Price looked up to see the Soap, Gaz, and the tall man whose name she hadn't quite learned yet step onto the plane and set their bags of gear down under the seats they decided to occupy. She couldn't help but notice it was on the other end of where she’d settled down. Not that she minded, she didn’t want to talk to them before it was necessary.

Price looks down at his watch.

“Looks like we’ll be taking off in just a few minutes. You want to come sit with the guys over there? I’ve gotta make sure they don't start taking the piss.”

She stares at them for a few moments before eventually shaking her head.

“No, I think I’ll try to get some sleep.”

Price narrows his eyes in suspicion at her answer, but decides not to push it any farther as he gets up.

“I’ll let you play the lone wolf for just a bit longer, but no more after this. You’ve got to start talking to them, build a rapport. They're not bad once you get to know them.”

She looks them over once more before turning her attention back to Price.

“The safe house. I’ll start there, I promise”

He points a finger her way with a stern expression, “‘M gonna hold ya to that.”

She gives him a small nod before he gives her a small pat on the shoulder and walks off to sit with the group of men. She watches them for a few moments longer before leaning her head back against the stiff seat and closing her eyes, willing the plane to take off sooner than later.

It had been a little under fifteen minutes after Price had decided to go over and sit with the boys, and the plane was now soaring through the air as a calm and quiet chatter filled the atmosphere around the small group. The moment could almost be seen as relaxing if you chose to ignore the reason why they were even on the plane in the first place, but of course, Soap decided to open his mouth.

“Hey Cap, I’ve got a question for ya.”

Price knew deep down he probably wouldn’t care for whatever inquiry Soap was prepared to spill from his mouth, but he allowed it anyway.

“What is it?”

Soap pointed a finger over where Shadow was sitting with her eyes closed and head leaned back.

“You know ‘er?”

Price couldn’t even bring himself to act surprised. He’d been expecting this question, but even so, it was Soap asking so he couldn’t help but delay his response just a tad.

“What makes you say that?”

Soap shrugs as he leans back in his seat and crosses his ankles over one another, “You two were eating pudding together before you ran off over here when we showed up. Just thought you might have history.”

Price doesn’t respond, causing Gaz to speak up.

“She your girlfriend, Captain?”

The boys watch Price’s face begins to grow considerably pale at the question as he seems to stumble over his words for a moment as he tries to respond.

“What? No, I–”

He lets out a deep sigh as he tries to compose himself.

“–No, She is not my girlfriend and nor will she ever.”

A beat of silence passes over the group of four before Soap speaks, a smug smile stretched on his face as he nudges Gaz with his shoulder.

“Bit defensive there, eh?”

Gaz and Soap attempt to stifle their laughter as Price seems to grow increasingly more flustered at their insinuations. While finding the teasing of the younger members mildly amusing, Ghost decides to take this moment to ask a question of his own.

“Well then what do you know about her?”

Gaz and Soap quiet down as the stern voice of their shared lieutenant cuts through the air. They both turn their attention back to Price who seems to be equal parts thankful and exasperated by Ghost’s question. He clears his throat before leaning back in his seat, one hand clasped tightly around the spare pen he grabbed from one of the pockets sewn onto his tactical vest.

“What’s got you lot so curious?”

“Never received a file on her, as good as a stranger,” Ghost replies as he crosses his arms over his broad chest.

Price spares a glance toward the topic of discussion out of the corner of his eye before settling it back on his team.

“She’s experienced and capable. Not to mention the most knowledgeable about Volkov out of any of us. She’ll be an asset to this team,” He says simply.

Ghost narrows his eyes, “You’re not telling us everything, are you?”

Price shrugs, “I’m tellin’ you the things that matter. You wanna learn more about her?” He points in her direction, “Then you can ask her yourself,” He finishes with a tone of finality, effectively ending the discussion.

Gaz and Soap hang their heads low in slight disappointment at Price’s answer before quickly moving onto another topic of discussion while Ghost keeps his eyes locked on the woman. It’s only after he receives a small kick from Price that he tears his gaze away from her. He always did have a staring problem.

“Yer aff yer heid.”

“English, MacTavish.”

“Use your fuckin’ context clues, L.T.”

“You little shite-” Price stops in his tracks and turns his body around to face the two men with a glare.

“I’m gonna give you two a proper beating if you don’t shut up.”

Soap’s eyes widen as he jerks a finger toward Ghost, “He started it!” “I don’t care who started it. My only concern is finding this safe house and getting you lot out of my hair for a moment,” He practically seethes, his patience for the two bickering men having diminished long ago. He opens his mouth to continue his rant, but is stopped by three gentle taps on his shoulder. He whips his head toward the origin of the touch to reveal Gaz pointing toward Shadow who was currently staring at the group from the porch of what seemed to be a cabin off in the distance.

“I found the safe house,” Soap states.

Price spares him another glance as he narrows his eyes, “You’re on thin ice, Sergeant.”

Not wanting to spend another moment outside, he stalks off in the direction of Shadow with Gaz quietly trailing by his side. As the silhouette of his captain and other sergeant grow smaller with the distance, Ghost nudges Soap.

“Come on then.”

Not wanting to open up another pointless argument, Soap decides to quietly follow after Ghost. As they approach the safe house, they’re able to take in the overall structure of the building. It was a quaint little cabin, almost homely if it weren’t for the overgrown weeds and boarded up windows. After shutting the door shut behind them, they found it was pretty much what they’d expected. Various pieces of furniture scattered across the scraped hardwood floors as well as small bits of peeling paint falling from the walls. Even so, it still wasn’t quite as bad as other safe houses they’d been in. At least this one felt somewhat like a home still.

After the group did a quick sweep through of the house, Price immediately retired himself to the one bedroom that was present in the house, stating he needed time away from the group. Not bothering to wait for a proper response, he walked away with his arrival to the bedroom only being marked by the sound of the door closing shut.

Deciding that she didn’t want to spend any more time standing around, Shadow walked over to a corner of the living room that seemed cleanest and plopped her bag down on the floor before taking a seat next to it. She stretched her legs out in front of her before leaning her upper body against the wall. She blissfully blocked out the sounds of her teammates shuffling around the room as she pulled her bag onto her lap and unzipped the side compartment. She rummaged through the small pocket in hopes of finding the small packet of plain crackers she’d stashed away on base. After more than a few moments of fruitless rummaging, she let out a small sigh. Wanting to give herself one last chance, she reached in the deep crevices of the compartment and ran her fingertips along the edges of it, her hand coming to a stop upon the unfamiliar feeling of a glossy paper like object. Curiously, she grabs onto it with her thumb and forefinger before pulling it out and resting it in the palm of her hand. As she looks down at her hand, her eyes come into contact with a small wallet sized photograph of a younger version of herself, a wide smile stretched onto her face and a Santa hat messily placed onto her head as her arm is thrown over the shoulder of a familiar face; Karina.

Two young girls wait patiently as they watch multiple women clad in plain clothing put the finishing touches on the set that lies before them. The taller of the two young girls is given a small nudge on the shoulder by the girl beside her. She ignores the gesture in order to prevent drawing any unnecessary attention to the pair, but eventually gives into the urge to speak as the nudges of the smaller girls grow stronger causing her to stumble ever so slightly.

“Stop it, Karina,” She hisses out quietly.

She can see the corner of her friend’s lips turn upward in a small smirk.

“I’m bored.”

“No one here cares if you’re bored.”

She gets another nudge in return, although this one is more gentle.

“You do.”

The older of the two has to stop the sigh that threatens to spill from her lips. It was true after all, she did care.

“What do you want me to do about it? Not like there’s any games around.”

Karina points a small finger in the direction of the board games lining a nearby bookshelf as she whispers excitedly, “Those are games!”

“Those are empty and you know that. It’s just for show.”

“But what if they’re not? Have you ever held one of them?”

The older girl goes silent at the question. She never had the opportunity.

“See! There could be games in there,” Karina states, a smug lilt to her voice that didn’t please the older girl one bit.

“Even then, we’ll never get the chance to see. Not with them around,” She says as she gives a subtle nod over to the various workers walking around the place.

Karina sighs, “I guess that’s true…What do you think it’s like? Playing a game?”

“I don’t know. It could be fun.”

“I wish we could have fun.”

The older of the two goes to speak but promptly closes her mouth as the pair is approached by one of the women who speaks to them in fluent Russian paired with a near impeccable accent.

“We are ready for you. Come.”

The two girls spare each other a glance before trailing after the woman, eventually coming to a stop in front of a neatly decorated Christmas tree that was situated just a few feet from a red brick fireplace adorned with a festive garland and plain red stockings.

Just as they had each taken in the colorful decorations, the woman they had come to know as Madame Sotskova began spilling firm instructions to the girls who immediately obeyed without question.

Soon enough, the two girls were sat on the carpeted floor with wide smiles as they tore the wrapping paper off the various presents that were stacked around them. It was an exhilarating feeling for each of them being able to open the presents and get a glimpse of the toys they uncovered, even being able to grab and hold onto them. It could’ve even been considered fun if it weren’t for the bright flash that nearly blinded them every so often, a flash that reminded them both the nature of what was really happening.

After sitting and unwrapping the various presents for over twenty minutes, the gifts were promptly taken away to be rewrapped as Madame Sotskova walked over and began spewing out different instructions just as she had before. This time, the two girls were pressed up against each other with the older of the two now wearing a Santa hat that Karina had haphazardly situated on her head. The older girl had since thrown an arm around Karina’s shoulder, effectively pulling her closer to her side at the firm direction of Madame Sotskova. Wide smiles stretched onto their faces as the bright flash of the camera began lighting up the room. They remained in that position for a few minutes before they were pulled apart by two other workers they didn’t recognize. They watched with bated breath as Madame Sotskova inspected the photos that had come from the polaroid. After giving a small nod of approval, the two girls were roughly pulled up onto their feet with the Santa hat being ripped off the older girl's head. They spared each other a small glance out the corner of their eyes before taking in a deep breath and moving their gaze to stare directly in front of them. They each resisted the urge to reach out and grab onto the other's hand as they felt a small prick on the side of their neck.

It was a scary feeling to have such an intense wave of tiredness and nausea flood your body at such a fast speed, but they remained expressionless. Even as the taunting voice of Madame Sotskova rang through their ears as their vision became a hazy mess of different lights and colors.

“Sweet dreams.”

Taking in one final breath, they both fell back into the arms of the workers as they silently prayed it would all go away when they woke up. A bad dream. But like many times before, their hopes of waking up to a better life were ripped away as they opened their eyes and their gaze flickered over to their dominant hand being cuffed to the metal frame of their assigned bed.

This was reality.

Upon hearing the sound of footsteps quietly stalking toward her, Shadow tucked the photo back into the unzipped pocket and looked up to see the masked man stop a few feet away from her before settling down onto the floor. Her eyes roamed over the man’s frame before eventually settling on his eyes. He promptly returned her stare for a few moments before giving her a small nod of his head and looking away. Satisfied that the man wasn’t one to talk, she took her gaze off him and zipped up the open pocket in her bag before pushing it off her completely. She wasn’t really in the mood for crackers anymore.

The two of them sat in silence for a good while before it was eventually broken by the sound of the man rustling through his back. She looked back over to him to see him pulling out a set of black knives. She watched as he retrieved a small microfiber cloth from his pocket before dragging it over the body of the knife. In all honesty the knives already looked clean, near impeccable even, but when you’re cooped up in a room with virtually nothing to do, she supposed giving your knives a quick wipe down wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

They remained in the same position, the masked man cleaning his knives and her simply watching. It had gone from an eerie, almost uncomfortable quiet to one that was tolerable.

Jesus, she thought, I really hate working with teams.

Just as she began debating whether or not she should just walk out of the cabin, a Scottish accent rang out through the room.

“Hey, you two gonna come over or what?”

Shadow sucked in a sharp breath before looking up to see the man across from her already staring at her. He was the first to break eye contact as he packed his knives away and stood up. He walked a few steps over to the two men who were waiting patiently before coming to a sudden stop. He spared a glance over his shoulder back toward Shadow. Her eyes flickered from the man over to the two men who were still talking before her gaze eventually settled on the empty space they made. It was enough for two people. Holding in a small sigh, she pushed herself up from the floor and began walking behind skull face.

“Yer talking oot yer arse.”

“I’m serious!” “Give it up, mate.”

At the disbelieving words of Ghost and Soap, Gaz turned to Shadow in what seemed to be a moment of desperation.

“Come on, what about you? You’ve gotta believe me.”

It was the first time any of them had thought to include her in their ongoing conversation and she couldn’t help but feel almost relieved. She’s not much for talking sure, but any type of conversation beats the mindless game of acting like you’re interested. Besides, she did make that promise to Price. She lets out a quiet sigh.

“Bit far-fetched, but I can see it happening.”

The desperate plea etched onto his face morphs into one of glee as a smile spreads onto his face.

“See, I told you!”

Soap rolls his eyes, “You outdrinking someone like Price? Impossible.”

Gaz speaks in a tone of pure exasperation, “He’s not a heavy drinker, I told you that already!”

“And we’re just supposed to take yer word for it?”

Gaz goes to respond, but is cut off by Shadow.

“He likes being aware of his surroundings. Drinking takes that away, so he doesn’t do it often. Simple as that.” She half expected the three men to stare at her shock for her sudden desire to speak much like they had during the conference with Laswell, but they didn’t, much to her surprise. Instead, she was met with the narrowed gaze of the one they called Soap.

“How d’ya know that?”

She shrugs, “We’ve known each other a while.”

Gaz is next to speak, “How long’s a while?”

She really needs to learn how to shut her mouth.

“Long enough.”

“How ‘bout a time frame? Couple months, couple years?”

“Whichever one you think.”

Soap rolls his eyes, “Yer not gonna tell us anything then, eh?”

“No.”

“Why not?” Gaz all but whines.

“It’s irrelevant.”

Ghost’s gruff voice cuts through the air, “You expect us to trust someone we know nothing about?”

She turns her attention to him, “I don’t know anything about any of you either. The only reason I know your names is because I heard it in passing.”

Gaz takes his Union Jack cap off before speaking, “Then how about your job? It’s obvious you’re not a soldier,” He motions to her bodysuit, “So what are you? Is it some special unit?”

She shakes her head no.

“I’m whatever Laswell needs me to be.”

“So…What? You’ve got some type of specialized training for that?”

She looks at Soap, “You could say that.” Gaz sighs, “We’re not getting anything out of you, are we?”

“Nothing that’s not essential to the mission.”

“You’ve gotta give us something, woman. How about your name?”

She turns her focus back to Soap, “Shadow.”

He rolls his eyes, “I mean yer real name. You do have one of those, right?”

“I do, but it’s not essential to the mission and therefore you don’t need to know.”

Ghost narrows his eyes, “You C.I.A.?”

She huffs out a breath of air, “Not a chance.”

The three men surrounding her all spare each other a glance before turning their gaze back onto the woman before them. A few moments of silence pass over them before Soap speaks.

“You know, you’re like a mini ghost.” He ignored the blank stare his Lieutenant gave him before continuing with a smile.

“I think I’m gonna like havin’ ya around.”

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