The rivalry between SAS and private military companies was always a pissing contest. Tensions were high whenever their paths would cross. And Task Force 141 was especially on edge regarding PMCs, ever since Graves and Shadow Company betrayal. But, unfortunately for 141, the PMCs had one, very useful advantage: they could safely operate along the thin line of diplomatic scandal. Not serving under any command, not loyal to any country nor alliance, the PMCs were warmongers in velvet gloves.
No one was happy when Laswell announced that for the upcoming mission 141 will have to team up with KorTac. But while most of the team accepted it as necessary evil, Ghost was… less understanding, to say the least. Especially when he got his hands on the paperwork and learned who from KorTac he will have to work with.
He didn’t say anything outright, but you could tell that he was angry and annoyed. He was silently brooding the whole time as you and the rest of the unit were being transported to the KorTac base for the debriefing.
It only got worse from there.
“Well, well, well… look what the cat dragged in.” Mace’s smug voice caused Ghost’s jaw to clench in annoyance. He could hear that he was smirking like an asshole, even if he couldn’t see his smile behind the metal skull mask.
“Simon Riley… you’re still a boy-scout, I see?” Mace continued his bullshit, taking a few confident steps towards his old comrade.
There was history between them. They used to serve together, in the same unit, before Mace ditched the army. But even back then they would always compete with each other, disagree just for the sake of it, and get on each other’s nerves.
Now, they stood in front of each other, equally tall and broad, equally intimidating, Ghost’s bone-like skull mask gazing menacingly at Mace’s shiny, metallic one. The air around them was so thick with tension you could cut it with a knife.
After an intense couple of minutes of silently comparing… rifle sizes... Mace’s attention shifted. Ghost didn’t arrive alone, he had a team with him, and Mace knew that whoever was good enough to work with Ghost was worth his time.
And oh, was he right. The moment his brown eyes landed on you, they seemed to bore right into your soul. Mace looked at you like a predator… but you weren’t a prey. You were a mate.
Mace circled around Ghost, walking past him as if he was suddenly invisible. His scarred biceps flexed as he approached you, puffing-up like a peacock. “Simon is old news, but you? I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”