Chapter Text
“You have a new addition boys,” Price’s grin is wide as he drops the manila folder onto the round table of the briefing room. Soap scoops it up the fastest, quickly flicking through it, Gaz shuffling over his shoulder to peer through the papers. Keegan slid in behind them, leaning his hands onto the table and cocking his head to read, swatting at Soap’s quick flicks of the pages.
“Our work not good enough for ya Captain?” The scot grumbles as he tosses the file back onto the table. It slides in front of Ghost who slowly and silently picks it up to review for himself.
Price rolled his eyes and groaned. “That’s got nothing to do with it John. You all are highly skilled, she’ll just be an excellent enhancer.”
“She?” Heads turned to the typically silent LT as he continued to read through the file. Price chuckled.
“You’ll see Ghost, hopefully she can give even you a run for your money.” He took the file from Ghost with a smack on the shoulder and added it to the cabinet labeled ‘Task Force 141’.
“We don’t need a prissy FBI agent on our force Price. She’s got no documented service,” Gaz rolled his eyes. “Lady’s lived her whole life in a classroom. Who needs that many degrees anyways?” Soap swatted at him as Ghost shot a death glare through every layer of Gaz’s being. He quickly shut up.
“I’ve got to meet her, so get your frustrations out now Sargeant,” Price stated as he gathered his coat. “I won’t talk her up, because I haven’t seen what she can do either. However, on paper, she’s exactly what we need. So behave.”
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I stepped out of the jeep with my duffel and stood on the gravel with a crunch. I nodded thanks back to the soldier driving with a small smile. He returned the gesture and drove off. The crunching footsteps approaching caught my attention and I caught Captain John Price waving in the distance. I met him halfway.
“Captain,” I smiled more genuinely and held my hand out. He shook it and smiled in return.
“It’s lovely to have you here Doctor. I hope the flight from the states wasn’t awful.” I chuckled.
“It’s not a new one.” Price gestured forward towards the buildings.
“Please, come with me and I’ll introduce you to your teammates.” He turned and led me to the barracks, a long and short building hidden into the side of the base. We dropped my duffel off at my room, a single surprisingly.
“All male team?” I questioned the Captain. He gave me a half-hearted ‘I’m sorry’ look.
“Hopefully they won’t be a problem,” he muttered under his breath as we entered the main building. I bit back the snicker that rose in my throat and stood tall as we walked through the maze of hallways. ‘God I’m going to be so embarrassingly lost,’ I thought as we finally approached the briefing room. I counted several male voices, varying degrees of volume, bickering inside. Price sighed again.
“You ready Doc?”
“Of course.” I stood prepped, hands crossed behind my back, and nodded to the Captain. He pushed the door open and entered, I trailed behind.
First observation, all of these men are fucking huge. If I added a foot to my height I guarantee I’d still feel dwarfed. Two wore masks of some kind, the rest were bare-faced. All were in ‘casual’ clothes for base, army greens and compression regulation with a toolbelt. Price directed me to the front of the room.
“141, meet Dr. y/n l/n, social and criminal behavior expert, Chief SSA of the US FBI behavioral unit, and top ranked spy within US intelligence agencies. Call sign, Doc.” I stood and nodded at the men in the room. One that was seated hopped up and stood in front of me.
“Johnny MacTavish ma’am. Call me Soap.” He spoke with a thick Scottish accent, his features sharp and his hair short. He held his hand out with a genuine smile. I cocked my eyebrow at the name but shook his hand and smiled back. “Hi Soap.”
“Another bloody American huh Price?” The man who had sat next to Soap stood and introduced himself as Kyle Garrick, or Gaz. He was followed by a a shorter American with a thicker Southern accent, Keegan, one of the two in masks. The rest of the men shook my hand and introduced themselves and asked some questions. Soap tried to mock my accent and failed awfully, making Keegan make a comment about how I'm at least understandable, thankfully cracking open and relaxing most of the men.
“Come on LT, you can’t just sit there,” Soap gestured at the man in the skull balaclava cover sitting next to Price. The man rolled his eyes and stood, instantly domineering. He was probably as wide as I was tall, easily 6’2-3 250 lbs of pure muscle and man. I’ve never felt smaller in my life. The skull theme traveled down his fingers as well, the design painted on the gloves he wore. There was black war paint around his eyes adding to the freak effect of the skull. He slightly cocked his head as his eyes raked up and down my figure, summing me up with a nod when he reached my eyes again after an agonizing minute. He made a noise, I couldn’t tell if it was positive or negative. He smelled of cigarettes and gun oil, as well as some underlying notes of a cologne. He smelled good . His eyes were a golden brown, hardened but not cold. No other part of him was visible but that’s all I needed to know that my new Lieutenant would make my life a living hell.
“Ghost.” His voice rumbled deep in his chest as he spoke. His thick Manchester accent bounced around inside my brain turning it to mush. ‘Fuck’. I nod.
“Nice to meet you sir.” He looks away from my eyes.
“None of that, LT or my name is fine.” I swallowed thickly and nodded. He can’t just sound like that all the time, it's not fair. His eyes raked over my frame once more while he awaited my answer.
“Got it LT.” He hums and returns to his files. Soap smacks my shoulder and drags me back to reality, where the unbelievably attractive Englishman, who’s got no discernable features or real name, is my boss. Fuck.