The hum of the engines reverberated through the metallic body of the aircraft, jostling the soldiers it held inside like sardines in a can. A constant drone that filled the otherwise silent cabin with a low and unsettling thrum. The scent of sweat and stale oxygen was enough to make noses crinkle slightly. Dim lighting flickering overhead, casting soft shadows on weary forms. The rhythmic scuffling of gear and the occasional shuffle of someone shifting in their seat popping into the silence. But, other then that, nobody dared make a sound. The weight of the mission just passed wearing heavy on those who'd made it out the other end.

Inside the cabin, it didn't take a genius to feel the tension that hung in the air like a bad omen. Soldiers sat across from one another, eyes haunted yet alert, bodies stiff as if still bracing for action which had long since passed.

Lieutenant Simon Riley, more commonly known as Ghost, sat across from you; his eyes trained onto your face while you shifted anxiously under his unnerving gaze.

Disobeying a direct order from one of the top soldier's the British military had to offer, wasn't possibly your smartest idea, and while your quick thinking had saved a few lives; it had almost cost you team the objective. You'd acted on instinct, trying to help by using your own initiative instead of following the barked orders that had crackled through coms.

Now, sat under his icy glare, you almost wish you hadn't...

Before this mission, you hadn't yet had the privilege to work with the well-respected Lieutenant. But, that hadn't stopped you from hearing his name mentioned around base. You were new-ish. Not to the career, but rather the base, having only just been posted near a month ago now. This had been your chance to play with the big boys, and much to your horror, you may have just ruined all chances you had at continuing within the big leagues by trying to do what you had thought was right.

As the aircraft finally touched down onto the tarmac runway of base after what felt like an age, Ghost wasted no time. He was up from his seat, grabbing a hold of your bicep as soon as you'd unbuckled yourself, before practically dragging you down the ramp and away from prying eyes; stumbling after his long strides.

Rounding a corner, to the very back of the loading bay where nobody really ventured to unless absolutely necessary, you found yourself thrown up and against the side of one of the bigger crates; the force of the impact rattling your brain from within your skull. With the air knocked from your lungs at the sudden slam, you barely had time to inhale a greedy gulp of air before he was on you in a flash; his fist indented into the metal beside your head.

Punching the craft like that had to of hurt, yet the Lieutenant didn't even flinch.

"Do you think that this is a game?" Simon's voice was low, seething with a barely contained fury. "Do you understand what’s at stake here?"

You open your mouth, intending to at least attempt to try and explain yourself, only for the Lieutenant to continue before you can say anything.

"I don't know what the fuck their teaching you at boot camp these days but out there, in the field, you listen when I give a fucking order. I say jump, you say how high. Better yet, just do what I fucking tell you. Do you understand, rookie?" He asked, near snarling as he glared into your eyes.