KuraKura

The steady hum of the plane engines filled the cabin as Task Force 141 and their new reluctant companion settled into their seats. Ghost was seated near the back, arms crossed and gaze fixed straight ahead, his mask revealing nothing of his thoughts. Soap and Gaz sat side by side a few rows ahead, already engrossed in a spirited debate over whether the in-flight rations counted as edible.

Price, ever the professional, was at the front of the cabin, reviewing the mission details on his tablet. ___, sat slightly apart from the group, her normal suit attire traded for a more practical outfit consisting of cargo pants, boots, and a plain black jacket. Despite the attire, she still looked out of place amongst the others. 

The tension from the earlier briefing hadn’t dissipated. Ghost’s warning lingered in her mind, and she’d caught Soap throwing her a few sideways glances since they boarded. She adjusted her seatbelt, shifting uncomfortably as the turbulence made the plane shudder.

“Relax,” Gaz said from across the aisle, offering a small smile. “We’ve been through worse flights.”

“Great,” she muttered, gripping the armrest tighter. “Good to know my first field mission might involve falling out of the sky.”

Soap leaned back in his seat, flashing her a grin. “Don’t worry, lass. If we crash, Ghost’ll probably land us on his feet like a bloody cat.”

Ghost didn’t even bother looking at him. “Focus on the mission, MacTavish.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Soap quipped, though his grin didn’t waver.

Price’s voice broke through the chatter. “Listen up. Once we’re on the ground, things will move quickly. Tarek’s network is vast, but we have intel on a small arms deal happening at a warehouse outside Beirut. Our job is to intercept, secure evidence, and take down anyone who tries to stop us.”

“And the suit?” Ghost asked, his tone devoid of any warmth.

Leaning forward to glare at Ghost. “The suit has a name you know.” 

Price’s gaze flicked to ___. “She’s here to ensure what we find sticks in court and to make sure we don't violate any international laws. You’ll keep her safe.”

Ghost didn’t respond, but his silence spoke volumes. __ decided to stay quiet for the rest of the flight, knowing anything she said would only add fuel to the fire. She stared out the window instead, watching the dark clouds swirl outside.

This was going to be a long mission.

---

The plane touched down on a small airstrip outside the city, the wheels screeching against the tarmac. The team disembarked quickly, the cold night air biting at their skin. They moved with practiced efficiency, loading their gear onto waiting trucks.

The base was a small, makeshift outpost nestled in the hills overlooking Beirut. As the convoy approached, the sound of generators and the hum of radio chatter greeted them. Soldiers moved about purposefully, their silhouettes stark against the floodlights illuminating the area.

Price led the group into the main operations tent, where maps and monitors covered every available surface. An officer greeted them with a sharp salute, then handed Price a tablet with the latest intel.

“Welcome Captin,” the officer said. “We’ve got eyes on the warehouse. Minimal movement so.”

Price nodded, motioning for the team to gather around. “We’ll go over the plan in the morning. For now, get some rest. Long day ahead.”

The team dispersed, each heading to their assigned quarters. __ was shown to a small, room with a cot, a desk, and a single lamp. She dropped her bag onto the floor and sat on the edge of the cot, exhaustion already creeping in. Just as she started to kick off her boots, there was a knock at the door.

Price stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable.

“Got a minute?” he asked.

“Yeah sure,” she replied, though her tone was wary.

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “You’re not a soldier. I get that. But out there, it won’t matter. Bullets don’t discriminate. If you can’t hold your own, you’re a liability to the team.”

Her jaw tightened. “I’m not here to fight. I’m here to ensure justice is served.”

“And you can’t do that if you’re dead,” he countered. “Starting tomorrow, Ghost will run you through the basics. Enough to keep you alive if things go south.”

Her stomach sank. “Ghost?”

Price’s lips twitched in what might’ve been a small smrik. “He’s the best we’ve got. You’ll learn fast.”

---

The morning sun cast a pale light over the base as __ made her way to the training area. She’d slept fitfully, the looming prospect of Ghost’s “training” keeping her awake. When she arrived, he was already there, his imposing figure standing by a table laden with gear.

“You’re late,” he said, his voice as gruff as ever.

“It’s six in the morning,” she shot back. “I’m not exactly a morning person.”

“Good thing you’re not here for a vacation,” he retorted. “Grab a vest. We’ll start with the basics.”

She sighed, shrugging into the heavy tactical vest he handed her. It felt like wearing a brick wall. He led her to a small range, where targets were set up at varying distances.

“First lesson: handling a firearm. If you’re in a fight, the last thing you want is to fumble.” He handed her a pistol. “Show me what you know.”

She hesitated, gripping the weapon awkwardly. “I’ve only ever handled a gun once. And it was a carnival game… I lost”

“Fantastic,” he said dryly. “Let’s fix that.”

For the next hour, he drilled her on the basics: stance, aim, trigger discipline. Her first shot hit the dirt two feet in front of the target, and her second ricocheted off the side of the range, prompting Ghost to step back with a muttered, “Bloody hell.”

“Are you trying to hit the target or scare it to death?” he asked.

“It’s harder than it looks!” she snapped, reloading with all the grace of someone trying to assemble IKEA furniture without instructions.

By the end of the session, she managed to hit the target more often than not, though her technique left much to be desired.

The second half of the sessions was worse, however. Ghost led her to an open area where he demonstrated hand-to-hand combat techniques.

“What are we doing now?” she asked, eyeing him warily.

“Teaching you how not to die when someone gets too close,” he replied. “Come at me.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Attack me,” he said, gesturing for her to move. “Don’t think. Just do it.”

With no small amount of reluctance, she lunged at him. It ended poorly—she found herself on the ground in less than two seconds.

“Again,” he ordered.

She groaned, getting to her feet. “Do you enjoy this?”

“You’ll thank me later,” he said not masking the amusement in his voice, motioning for her to try again.

Her next attempt was equally disastrous. She tried to throw a punch, but it lacked any real force, and Ghost easily sidestepped, causing her to stumble forward. By her third attempt, she was so frustrated she let out a battle cry that sounded more like an angry goose, which prompted Soap—watching from a distance—to burst out laughing.

By the time they finished, she was bruised, exhausted, and thoroughly annoyed. Ghost, on the other hand, looked as unbothered as ever almost happy even.

---

By the time dinner rolled around,  was utterly spent. Her muscles ached, her pride was bruised, and her stomach growled loud enough to echo in the mess hall. She grabbed a tray and slumped into a seat at one of the long tables, praying for a moment of peace.

Naturally, that wasn’t going to happen.

“Well, if it isn’t our favorite new recruit,” Soap announced, plopping down across from her with an exaggerated grin. Gaz followed, carrying his tray and shaking his head at Soap’s antics.

“I’m not a recruit,” she mumbled, poking at the unidentifiable stew on her plate. “I’m a lawyer.”

“A lawyer who can’t throw a punch to save her life,” Soap teased. “That wee war cry of yours? Nearly killed me. From laughter.”

Gaz snorted into his drink. “I’ve seen geese with more intimidating moves.”

“Ha, ha,” she said dryly, stabbing a piece of whatever kinda meat this was with her fork. “Glad I could entertain you.”

“To be fair,” Gaz added, “you did hit the target a few times by the end. Progress, eh?”

“Sure, if you call barely competent progress,” she muttered. “Ghost probably thinks I’m hopeless.”

Soap grinned. “Nah, if he thought you were hopeless, he wouldn’t bother trainin’ you. He’s just got a funny way of showin’ encouragement.”

“Funny isn’t the word I’d use,” she said, though a small smile tugged at her lips despite herself.

Before they could continue, an officer entered the mess hall, his expression tense. The room quieted as he approached their table.

“Captain Price wants everyone in the operations tent,” he said, his tone brisk. “We’ve got activity at the warehouse. Looks like the deal’s happening sooner than expected.”

Instantly, the atmosphere shifted. Soap and Gaz were on their feet in seconds, their joking demeanor replaced with sharp focus.

“Guess playtime’s over,” Soap said, getting up from his spot and heading to the operation tent outside. 

__ stares down at her food before getting up with Gaz as they both start to head to the tent. 

“Hey maybe you might get lucky and Terek is scared of geese,” Gaz says with a chuckle.

“Please shut up…”

hey guys... so... yeah been a minute hasn't it.

I'm so sorry for the super super late update. Iv been stuck in the hospital due to a heart condition I suffer from and with the holidays I was just so stressed with that and my condition that I wasn't able to write anything.

Months had passed since the last confrontation between Task Force 141 and the UN lawyer, who had left their mission in utter disarray by arresting Leopold. Task Force 141, now back in their usual routine, was gathered once again in the same briefing room. The air was thick with the preparation for their new mission. Ghost leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his mask reflecting the room's dim light. Soap sat beside him, tapping his fingers on the table in an impatient rhythm. Gaz, ever the calm one, observed them both while Price stood at the front, casting a glance at the door every so often.

Laswell’s voice crackled over the speaker, as she started the briefing. “All right, gentlemen, today we’re being called in for an operation in Lebanon. Our target is an arms dealer with deep ties to black-market weapon trades across Europe and the Middle East. The objective is to take him down and dismantle his network of contacts and clients,” she explained, her tone steady.

Soap leaned forward. “Right, so what’s the catch? Seems simple enough.”

“Simple?” Laswell chuckled darkly. “Not exactly. This time, the UN wants direct involvement. They’ve assigned an attorney to accompany you. Their goal is to ensure any evidence you gather will hold up for an international prosecution.”

Soap leans over to Gaz whispering “What the chances of it being the li’le lass from last ti-,”

The door creaked open, and in walked ____, the same woman who had arrested Leopold months before. She wore the same crisp suit, her demeanor equally unyielding, though there was a slight tension in her shoulders. As she entered her gaze met Ghost’s, and he narrowed his eyes under the mask, the sense of annoyance already brewing in his mind. He wasn’t the only one; the entire team looked taken aback.

“Thanks, Soap,” Gaz says in annoyance before Price clears his throat towards them signaling them to shut up. “Sorry cap,” both Saop and Gaz say. Once Price turned back to the center table Gaz shoves Saop in the side. 

Laswell continued, undeterred. “Gentlemen, meet _____. She’ll be joining you in the field to help secure solid evidence against our target.”

Soap snickered quietly, leaning toward Ghost with a whisper. “Back again, huh? Bet she’s thrilled to be workin’ with us.”

Ghost rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath. “Don’t see why we need a suit in the field.”

_____’s lips tightened as she caught the comment, and she addressed the room in a clipped tone. “I’m not thrilled about it either, but orders are orders. My goal is the same as yours—to put this man behind bars, not just take him out. I’m here to make sure every piece of evidence we collect is admissible. That’s it.”

Price cleared his throat, attempting to defuse the tension. “We’re all on the same side here. _____, I trust you’ll stay out of the way when things get… heated.”

_____’s eyes flashed, her voice steady. “As long as the evidence remains intact, I’ll give you the space you need to do your job.”

Laswell’s voice broke in again, her tone a bit softer. “Everyone here has their part to play. Work together. This arms dealer has slipped through the cracks before, and if we’re not meticulous, he’ll do it again.”

The room fell silent, each of the operatives turning to look at one another with various shades of reluctance and tension. Gaz leaned forward, breaking the silence with a low voice. “Fine. Let’s just make sure we’re all on the same page when things kick off. We all want the same outcome, so let’s keep it that way.”

Price nodded, grateful for Gaz’s level-headedness. “Well said, Gaz. Let’s get to work, then.”

As they filed out of the room, Ghost’s gaze lingered on ____. She met his eyes, her expression cold but focused. He grunted under his breath and followed the others, his mood simmering. This mission was going to be anything but simple, it was going to be a right pain in his ass. 

~A short while after the meeting~

_____ POV

“Sir, respectfully, I don't understand why I am doing fieldwork, that's not something we do!” I say on the phone to my superior, Clarkson as I stand outside the meeting room in the hallway. 

“I know but we need all the evidence and help we can get on Tarek. He has been eluding us for too long and every time we get any type of evidence he somehow finds a way to destroy it. Just bear with it for now you'll be fine” Clarkson says in a stern but understanding voice. 

Clarkson has been my superior ever since I joined the UN law sector. He is a good man and has always been there to help me in situations. Iv looked up to him in a sense I guess. He always is just amazing with his work never losing a case and always being the most confident person in the room. I just don't understand why he would send me of all people to do this. Like seriously I'm not a soldier! I am a lawyer goddammit! I cry in my head till I answer back with a simple “i understand” in a defeated tone. 

“Just stay safe. I'll be checking in on you to make sure and hear of your progress. And ____ stay safe out there don't put yourself in any unwanted situations.” He says before saying goodbye and hanging up.

I sigh leaning my back against the wall and looking up at the ceiling before giving myself a little pep talk. “You can do this ____, just show these guys that they can't walk all over me.” hump I smile to myself “Not even that brooding skull dude” I keep smiling at myself as I continue to gaslight myself. 

“Just stay out of our way, suit,” a low gruff voice says from the side of me.

I freeze. Without turning my body I move my eyes to the left of me to see the dude I most definitely verbally called brooding a minute ago. 

“HOLY FUCK” I scream jumping at least a foot away from him as I see him just standing there next to me. “WTF you can't just sneak up on people like that what the hell and why are you trying to listen in on my call or something!” I yell at him as I place a hand over my heart trying to find my heartbeat.

“Last time I checked you don't own this hallway and it's your fucken fault for taking a call right outside of the briefing room. And a word of advice: stay out of our way unless the only evidence you and your superior will end up with is a dead lawyer,” he says as he moves closer to me looking down on me to try and intimidate me.

“Is that a threat?” I glare back up at him.

“A warning,” he says as he shoves past me pushing me to the side in the process. As he continues down the hallway.

That asshole…..THAT COMPLETE ASSHOLE. I CAN'T BELIEVE HE SAID THAT TO ME.

As he rounded the corner down the hallway and disappeared from sight. in all my 4 years of law school maturity and glory, I raise both my hands and flip him off before turning down the opposite way. 

“ Just stay out of our way meh meh meh. Prick” I say grumping going down the hallway. I need a raise after this shit. 

Hey all here is part 2 actually came out faster than I thought I would type it out but had a burst of energy lol. chapters will be getting longer from here on out since I can play with it more. The next one will probably come out at Thanksgiving time.

well, I hope yall like it :)

also really love all the support I've been getting from everyone it's so nice if anyone has requests more than happy to do them.

The dim, sterile lights of the briefing room flickered overhead as the members of Task Force 141 gathered around the table along with Core, a fellow private military group that was hired along with 141 for a mission. Soap MacTavish leaned forward, eyes locked on the Price as he gave the mission report, his fingers drumming quietly on the polished surface. Price, ever the sentinel, stood at the center of the room along with Leopold; the captain of Core a fellow private military company. Ghost remained an imposing figure at the far end of the room leaning against the side wall. Gaz who was sitting in the seat next to Price listened in on the report on their course of action as well as all information gathered on their target. 

"Intel checks out," Soap muttered, his accent thick with the fatigue of too many nights spent in hostile territory. "I think we’ve got it locked down."

Price didn't respond immediately, waiting for the Core captain to add any information on their part. "Just keep sharp. We're not totally out of the blue just yet," Price said.

“Not much to worry about, luckily, but who knows, maybe if we find these bastards as fast as we can, we can have some fun with them,” Leopold snickers in a sadistic tone. 141 just staring at him with disdain in their eyes. Even though they are fellow operatives in this mission, 141 and Core did not see eye to eye on matters surrounding how they handled the enemy combatants. While 141 would be over and done with it. Core, they came to find out they were ruthless and would like to “play” with the enemy, much to the discomfort of others. 

“Prick,” Ghost rumbles under his breath, low enough that it couldn't be heard. 

Before anyone could reply, the door swung open, and all operatives in the room shot from their seats at the sudden interruption. Two armed guards came in and following after them a woman wearing a suit that screamed of legal authority rather than combat experience walked in. The woman’s eyes flicked across the room, taking in each of them, her gaze cold and unwavering.

"Hello Gentleman, I do hope I'm not interrupting at a bad time but I have a pressing issue at the moment" the lawyer’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. Not waiting for an invitation, stepping fully into the room, and looking directly at Price and Leopold.

"Excuse me?" Leapold barked, his brows furrowing as he straightened, clearly not amused. "And who exactly are you? And what the fuck are you doing here?”

The lawyer didn’t flinch at the sudden hostility. "I’m ___, a lawyer assigned by the United Nations to prosecute violations of international law," she said, her voice laced with authority. "I’m here on a matter of grave importance. It seems there have been violations in more ways than one."

Price exchanged glances with Ghost, each sensing the impending storm. "What’s this about?" Price asked, his tone sharp but controlled.

___ walking further into the long table in the middle and held up a folder, its contents heavy with the weight of documents, before dropping it onto the center table "Leopold O'Reilly you are being detained on violations of International Humanitarian laws along with all other soldiers under the command of the Private Military Company “Core”," she said, letting the words sink in. "Violated the Geneva Conventions, among other things. you’ll either face prosecution or give up your position and pay a hefty fine. The decision is yours, but I’m here to make sure that happens and you're brought in." She says as the 2 armed guards come around cuffing Leopold, 

“What the fuck do you mean violation I haven't done shit, and Im a private actor, not a state, so the Geneva Conventions don't apply to me,” Leopold screams at the lady as he struggles against the 2 guards. 

“Under certain circumstances, yes, but 3 years ago, you were hired by a state official in Nigeria to clear out a village to make way for oil drilling in the area where you were not, and while there, it was reported that your team violated multiple human rights law including the violation of the 1948 genocide convention, and since you where hired by a state official you are considered a state actor under contract,” ___ states with a cold glare towards Leopold. As she motions her head to the 2 guards to escort him out.

"You can't Fucking do this to me- fuck stop let me go!" Leopold yells as he's dragged out of the room by the guards.

“Hold, you can't just come barging in here like this,” Soap says as he stands up, half yelling at the lawyer.

___ not flinching turns to him saying. "This is a matter of international law, and as of now out of yalls hands. So unless you want to see the rest of your operation crumble under legal scrutiny, I suggest you start taking this seriously and just let me do my job,"

The room seemed to freeze, the air thick with the weight of her words. Ghost’s gloved hands tightened into fists, his gaze never leaving ___. The lawyer wasn’t backing down. She had a mission, and She would not be swayed.

Price stepped forward, his voice low but filled with command. "We have a mission that we are carrying out. We can't just up and stop this. You think you can just waltz in here and disrupt everything we’ve worked on?"

___ met his gaze head-on. "I don’t care about your mission. What I care about is justice. And that’s what you’re going to face, whether you like it or not," she says, ending the conversation as she turns around leaving the room. 

Price’s phone rings soon after. “Laswell, what the bloody hell is going on right now?” He half yells through the phone. 

“Sorry, John, I guess you just met the reason for my call,” Laswell says from the other side of the phone, sighing. “That was __ a UN litigator. It seems like they are starting to push harder to crack down on violations by sending out their dogs to bring them in. And Leopold was apparently on the top of their list. I tried to call you about the situation as soon as I caught word, but seems I was just a tad bit late,” 

Price grumbles “So what do we do now?”

“Nothing, the mission is being called off, think of it as an early break let off to go home,” Laswell says in a monotone voice before ending the call.

Soap leans over looking over to Ghost with one of his trademark grins. “Well that was something,” he says with a chuckle. “But I will have to say seeing a lassie like that being so commanding is kinda hot, ain't it LT,” he says.

Ghost looks at him with annoyance through his mask, saying, “Can it, Johnny” as he pushes off the wall, leaving the room annoyed with the whole situation. Thinking back to the lawyer. Hoping for his annoyance that he doesn't have to deal with that shit again.

Okay hey, y'all this is my first fic ever so not the best but will edit and add more here and there as I figure out what I'm meant to do and how this app works lol.

I'm always open to little imagine ideas or other stuff. but this fic will take some time also will make a masterlist for it as soon as I figure it all out.