Remark Simon “Ghost” Riley x D'Arcy “Canary” Parmentier
—She left an impression on him.
; first meeting ; tw battle , injuries , death ; #simarcy
***
“—on the other hand, Makarov has also taken over a town near the border.”
The image of a ransacked Russian town flashed on the screen, most houses and vehicles destroyed, and burned, puffing clouds of anarchy and disorder.
“They surrounded the town and captured hostages, with multiple injured,” said Laswell. The image switched to the faraway shots captured by those who provided intel, hostages upon hostages, tied up and huddled onto the corner. “And they’re willing to wait out until the news spreads of the ULF conducting this.”
As she closed her briefing, the Task Force 141 members turned stern. Price was leaning on the table with Gaz beside him breathing out into his fist, while Soap walked around in a circle, muttering curses in Scottish under his breath. Meanwhile, Ghost hung back near the wall, eyes unmoving from the screen.
“Not them taking hostages for the false flag now,” said Soap. “It’s gonna be hard breaching in like this.”
“And if they find 141 is involved with dead hostages, I’m not sure it’ll be better,” added Gaz.
Ghost huffed, looking over the screen, furrowing his brow. “He’s also taunting that the ULF could get into the US since they’ve managed to get to Russia. He’s bloody blowing everything up the scale.”
The Captain glanced around. Farah and Alex went to manage the other half of Makarov’s plan; planting evidence back in Urzikstan, so he couldn’t ask for them to handle the hostage situation. He glanced at the hostages’ pictures, his lips a straight line. Based on the intel, there were around 20 hostages, and to be honest, 141 never really dealt with hostages—not that many, not that injured.
But he also couldn’t let any of them die, not like this.
“So what’s the next step, Captain?” asked Gaz.
Price looked up at the rest of his team, each one of them returning his gaze.
“We need to clean the place up and most importantly, rescue those hostages,” he said, pulling up info to the screen, an image of a brown-haired woman displayed on it, “so time to contact a medic.”
***
“Sergeant D’Arcy Parmentier, Medical Sergeant, Green Beret.” D’Arcy stood straight as she walked into the base, hands clasped on her rifle. She was around Soap’s ears, her dark blue eyes piercing, the center point of her stern expression. Her light brown hair was neatly tied into a small ponytail on the base of her neck. “Honored to be here.”
Price patted her shoulder as she finished talking. “This is Canary. We met back in joint force with her ODA. One hell of a combat medic,” he glanced at Ghost, “and one hell of a sniper too.”
The man in the skull balaclava glared at Price’s statement, glancing at the woman beside him. The challenge was more than clear to him, but she didn’t seem to realize it.
“You’re exaggerating, sir,” she said.
“Nonsense.” He patted her one more time before stepping aside, letting her walk up to Soap who was holding the shoulder part of his vest, positively brimming. “Get to know each other first. We’ll start the briefing in a minute.”
After Price left, Soap started chatting her up while Gaz and Ghost hung behind, talking about the upcoming mission’s location and possible roadblocks.
“Canary, huh?” Soap laughed. “Call me Soap. Nice meeting ya.”
“Likewise.” She nodded. “It’s a pleasure to be able to join Task Force 141.”
He laughed, punching her on the arm. “Don’t be so stiff. Captain said we need to get to know each other, right? Right, I’ve never worked with someone from Green Beret before.” He took a step sideways and gestured at the two men behind him. “Let me introduce you to the rest of 141. That's Gaz and that’s Ghost.”
Gaz met her eyes, nodding as he adjusted his hat, which she returned. Then she turned to Ghost, waiting for the same gesture, but it never came. All she got was a stern look and cocked head as he looked down—literally—at her. But it didn’t deter D’Arcy. She returned that gaze too, pursing her lips. She couldn’t read his expression, but she was sure he was more than doubtful of her.
Even though D’Arcy didn’t mind that gaze, Soap did. He grimaced at the staring contest between the two and patted her on the back, leading her away from Ghost’s piercing eyes.
“Don’t mind him, he doesn’t talk much,” he said, trying to change the subject, “anyway, you better tell me about your experience over drinks after this mission.”
She shook her head, seemingly already over Ghost’s gaze. “Well, I don’t drink unless it’s an official business.”
“No way?! Really?”
“Really.”
Soap complained about how she couldn’t have fun as they walked away, while Gaz crossed his arms, unamused by the fact Ghost didn’t start their halted conversation in favor of another thing.
“Are you interested, Ghost?” Gaz turned to face the man. “You’ve been looking at her.”
“Just basic observation,” he answered curtly.
Gaz just hummed. It sure felt different from his usual observation though. For starters, his gaze was more piercing than usual, and he was sure his hand twitched there. But Gaz decided to leave that matter alone, unwilling to step into whatever the fellow SAS soldier had in mind.
***
“Canary, you’ll go and secure the hostages with Ghost, don’t forget to tend to any life-threatening injuries.” Price turned to the masked man before looking at D’Arcy, tapping the map. “Then secure a sniper’s nest.”
Laswell changed the screen to display more intel. “Konni has an eye on the town, so they’ll send reinforcements.”
D’Arcy sneaked a glance at him while Laswell talked. She couldn’t read him under that mask, but he didn’t object to the assignment, which was great. She had more than enough experience of fellow soldiers flinching or almost letting themselves complain the moment they got assigned to her, so his behavior was a breath of fresh air.
After the briefing, she moved to strap up on the supply crate, stopping just beside the man she was going to do the mission with. He fiddled with his sniper rifle—an MCPR-300—before putting it away, not even glancing at her. D’Arcy craned up at him. Standing beside the man makes her realize how much of a giant he was, and looking to meet his eyes hurt her neck.
“Ghost, right? I’ve heard things about you.”
He peered down under his mask. His brown eyes barely popped under the white of the skull pattern and the black paint around his eyes, but it was still intimidating nonetheless.
“Good things, I hope?”
She slung her own rifle strap over her body before unloading it, checking the chamber as she mumbled. “You can say that.”
“Good to know.” His voice was gruff, uninterested, but his gaze didn’t leave her. He watched her doing her inspection before finally walking away, stopping for a second to talk. “I’ll meet you back with others. Don’t take long.”
“Rog.”
***
Ghost and D’Arcy breached one of the houses on the hill from its backdoor. The lock on it was primitive enough to break, and they managed to slip in without any of the Al-Qatala member stationed near the house noticing. She scouted the first room, hands on her assault rifle as she did so.
“Clear.”
They moved room to room in a single file, searching for any sign of the AQ members while they talked.
“Price said you’re a great sniper. Is that true?”
“Nothing like that,” she said, “I just do better than the average.”
“That’s called great.”
“No, I’m just above average,” she said. She peeked around the corner and walked into the next. “You’re the great one.”
They continued moving in a single file, Ghost watching her back, her short ponytail bobbing along as they climbed upstairs. D’Arcy continued scouting for the two, until they arrived at the house’s upper bedroom.
The AQ member keeping watch of a few hostages got alerted by their footsteps. He panicked and dragged one up, yelling and grabbing his pistol to put on the hostage’s head.
But Ghost pulled out his silenced pistol first, zeroing the AQ member's head, and exploded him within a second. Unfortunately, with the man’s finger still on the trigger, his gun went off as he went limp, hitting the hostage’s arm instead.
“Shit—!” D’Arcy cursed. Not a moment later she rushed to the hostage, slinging her rifle back.
“Take a deep breath.” She instructed the man before turning to the soldier standing behind her. “Ghost, put the pressure on the wound! I’ll tourniquet it!”
He kneeled beside the writhing hostage, putting pressure on it with a torn piece of cloth D’Arcy had prepared. His eyes glided over to how efficient she was. Within a second she had pulled out her windlass tourniquet and tied it on the hostage’s arm a few centimeters above his wound. She checked his condition, making sure his airway was clear, his breathing normal, and his circulation was fine before moving on to checking his blood loss.
“Condition stable, blood lost in an acceptable range,” D’Arcy muttered. She glanced at the man before speaking in Russian, telling him how she’d take out the bullet. The man nodded and they talked for a while as she prepared her tools.
Ghost watched as she talked all the way to retrieving the bullet inside the man’s arm, chattering and moving wildly, a stark difference from her back at the base. So noisy in an emergency, just like a canary in a mine. Now he could see where her nickname came from.
After making sure the man was stable and the others weren’t injured, they moved on to different houses, neutralizing enemies either in close combat or through their silenced guns, until they arrived at an abandoned store with a rusted and broken ladder on its side.
“I’ll go first,” Ghost offered, and she nodded.
He slung his rifle back and climbed up, moving agile enough for the ladder to not fully collapse under his weight. He then jumped onto the cement roof, grunting as he almost stepped on a dead rat.
D’Arcy was next, and when she almost reached the top, he offered his hand. Without hesitation, she took it, clasping it hard as he lifted her.
“Thanks.” She stepped onto the roof and let go of his hand before wiping her dirty knees. Ghost just nodded before looking around the roof, mentally noting which location would be perfect for their nest. As he did that, he reported back.
“Got to the roof.”
‘Great. Their reinforcement should arrive in 5. Keep an eye for them,’ Laswell said.
Ghost and D’Arcy started setting up their sniper rifles beside each other on the ledge he thought would be the best spot and started waiting.
It turns out that 5 minutes is a long time. They waited for the Konni in silence, unmoving, feeling the second stretched into minutes as the wind blew nearby trees and short grasses alongside D’Arcy’s hair. They were used to it, but Ghost took the opportunity to talk.
“Hey,” Ghost called out suddenly, “wanna compare shots?”
“Why?” But before he could answer, she realized why first. “You wanted to test me.”
“Great use of that head of yours.”
“Thank you,” D’Arcy replied with a sarcastic undertone buried in that flat tone, “but just so you know, Lt., I’m not intending to take your place as the team’s sniper. Just in case you got that idea.”
“I’m not worried.” He closed his eyes. “Just interested.”
D’Arcy paused. She really couldn’t read him. But there wasn’t a downside to agreeing with him either. So fuck it.
“Okay,” she said, spying on the Konni jeeps that started rolling in. “We can do that.”
As the two got the okay to fire, the Konni quickly realized they were fucked. D’Arcy looked down her scope, and one, two, three were down at the same moment Ghost took another two. The battle was one-sided with the two snipers getting back-up from Price, Gaz, and Soap who were much closer.
She reloaded her gun as she took cover, glancing at Ghost who got another kill, the thought of the face under that mask passing through her head again. But she didn’t entertain it, preferring to go back, sniping a driver, causing the car to hit a tree and combust, getting her count to go up by four.
Within a few minutes, all the incoming Konni were down, and the two snipers had their scores. Ghost, of course, overwhelmingly topped her numbers, gunning down double what she did.
D’Arcy lowered her scope first and glanced at the man beside her. “Your win, sir,” she said. “Told you I’m nothing compared to the Ghost.” Without waiting for his answer, she clicked on her comm to report to Price. “Area cleared. No incoming hostiles. All hostages here are also stable.”
‘Great,’ Price answered, ‘check the ones down here, we got some injured. Ghost will cover you.’
“Rog.” She turned her comm off and stood up, this time finally looking down at the tall man. “Nice working with you, Ghost.”
“Same to you, mate.”
As she jumped over the roof to the lower houses, he glanced at her again, his thoughts unspoken.
***
“Parmentier!”
D’Arcy looked up from the old woman’s chart and turned to face her fellow Medical Sergeant, waving at her from outside the door, rushing in with a phone in his hand.
“Got a call for you.”
She accepted the phone. “From?”
“Task Force 141. Captain Price.”
“Really?” She raised an eyebrow and leaned to the receiver. Sure enough, the other side of it buzzed alive with Price’s voice.
“Canary.”
“Captain.”
“Hopefully you’re not in another ODA?”
“No, sir.” She looked down at the chart on her hand again. “Just have been working in an emergency room. Is there something urgent? Another hostage situation?”
D’Arcy could overhear Soap faintly laughing in the background, calling her name, who was eventually silenced by Gaz.
“Not quite. It’s not a hostage one, but we could still use your help,” Price said before pausing, and someone on the other end said something that made him grunt. “We need another sniper who can do some R&R in my usual bar in London after. Someone’s request.”
She blinked, once, twice, not believing what she just heard. Thoughts of who this ‘someone’ was passed through her mind, and she huffed at the thought itself, not truly believing he would want them to meet again.
D’Arcy nodded, smiling. “Of course, sir. With honor.”
***
Bonus Scene
“Who do you think is the best sniper aside from you, Lt.?”
“D’Arcy.”
“Canary?” Soap blinked. “Hell, not even a pause?” But even with the shocked look he gave, Ghost still didn’t budge from his answer. “She sure does leave an impression on you, sir.”
“That so?” He glanced at the Sergeant.
“Well, you don’t easily say one can be compared to you,” he said, “why anyway?”
They’d only worked together for one mission, and yet Ghost had seemingly taken an impression on her. Was she really that good? It was unfortunate Soap didn’t get to work with her directly, but hearing how she managed to save every hostage in that situation was impressive. Was that why?
“Her ponytail.”
Soap was stunned for a second. There was no way he would predict that answer.
“C’mon. You’re kidding.”
He crossed his arms, waddling his point finger. “Have you seen the way it sways when she walks?”
“I mean,” Soap thought over it for a second, “it’s mesmerizing, I’ll give you that.”
“Right.” Ghost closed his eyes. “You also oughta see her when she’s treating someone. Relentless. No wonder Price picked her for the last mission.”
“Ah.” He smiled wider, holding back his laugh. So that was the real reason. “Got it.”