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The room remained completely silent, the only noises to be heard came from Ghost who began muttering curses under his breath, shaking his head as he paced around the room. My eyes rapidly blinked away the tears accumulating in them, trying my absolute best to remain grounded into reality, the tether keeping me in place slowly becoming unwound the longer I remained under everybody's scrutinizing glares. "S-so what? I'm in being imprisoned because Hassan is my father?" I asked through tears, my once steady voice slightly faltering as I attempted to articulate myself in a composed manner, even though I was anything but. "No, that's not why... or all,"  Laswell continued after clearing her throat, staring at me through the screen with razor sharp eyes. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, not understanding what else there could possibly be, my throat instantly running dry as if I swallowed a pound of sand.

Ghost chuckled, shaking his head before he absolutely lost it. "Are you bloody fuckin' serious?" He demanded loudly, his tone holding a mixture of incredulousness and rage. Soap and Gaz immediately stiffened up at Laswell's vague insinuation that I'd done something even worse, both their eyes falling back on me simultaneously. Nobody attempted to calm Ghost down anymore, probably wishing he'd just snap completely and unload a clip through my skull. "You are being imprisoned for the encrypted messages you've been sending your higher ups in Al-Qatala about the 141," she stated loudly, her voice remaining strong even underneath the heavy weight of her anger. My mouth fell agape as my tanned skin drained pale, my eyebrows quickly pulling together as an expression of utter dismay filled with shock crept its way up to my features. 

Time seemed to come to a complete standstill as her words seeped through the creases of my brain, the tether keeping me bound to reality finally unraveling at its seams. My eyes widened in complete disbelief as I stared at Laswell through the screen, my gaze reflecting perplexity as I grappled with the accusation she threw my way. The world around me began to blur into insignificance, nothing seeming real anymore. Not Ghost storming up to me with outstretched hands, not Price deciding to hold him back at the last second, not Soap glaring at me with clenched fists, not Gaz shouting in my face. My unspoken words hung above my head, suspended in the air between Laswell's accusation and the clarification I so desperately needed to ask for. 

My mouth opened to speak through the jumble of words in my throat, my speech no longer fluid as it stumbled out in fragments. "That's... that's not... it's not... that's not true," I whispered, my voice no longer sounding like it was my own, feeling as if I was looking down at myself in third person. More loud noises filled my ears, sounding muffled as it filtered through my muddled mind: shouting, cursing, scuffling. "Well, Y/n..." Laswell started, the sound of her stern voice slamming me back down to Earth. Shaking her head, her lips pulled together before she smacked them, rustling through the different papers laid before her out of view from the camera, "They were sent with your AQ service number," she sternly replied, looking back up at me, bewilderment instantly inscribing itself on my face. Each separate stream of admonishments falling from her lips echoed around my head relentlessly as if she was speaking to me through a cluster of mountain peaks.

"You will remain imprisoned here in Las Almas until the messages are decoded where you'll then be tried for your crimes," she concisely concluded. A surreal detachment settled upon me at the end of her proclamation, an otherworldly sensation severing the connection between my mind and body. My surroundings that were once familiar slowly began to transform into a distant tableau. My lips parted, mouthing words that weren't mine, "How do you even know it's about you all," the person who was not me asked. The woman looked back at the imposter whom calls herself Y/n, replying in a distorted voice, "Some parts of the messages weren't encrypted, specifically the numbers 141." Shaking a head that didn't belong on my neck, my tongue and teeth produced words that certainly were not my own, "I didn't send anything."

The surroundings around my body became glazed with an emptiness as I struggled to anchor my consciousness back into me. Someone grabbed my shoulders, shaking them back and forth, my wide, uncomprehending eyes immediately landing on the one person who could retie my physical connection back with my mental one with just their presence alone, no matter how hostile the air around them may be. "How fucking could you, Y/n," Ghost shouted in my face, my brain rewiring itself the longer he spoke, "FUCKING SPEAK FOR FUCKSAKE!" Rapidly, my worldly detachment began to recede like a dissipating mist, rerevealing the contours of my reality, the reality that has fucked me in the ass harder than it ever has before. "I didn't fucking do anything!" I screamed back in his face, my voice rising with an unwavering plea for him to just believe me.

The four men around me scoffed in disgust, my urgent demands for them to recognize the sincerity of my words falling on deaf ears. Ghost's eyes softened the longer he looked into mine before they inevitably harshened up once more. "Stop fucking lying," he seethed at me between clenched teeth, his fingers digging deeper in my shoulders causing me to cry out in pain. Something flickered in his eyes, an unreadable emotion that resulted in his grip on my body to loosen before his arms fell back down to his sides, his legs slowly retreating themselves away from where I stood, his gaze still hardened. My feet moved in circles beneath my torso as I looked between everybody circled around me, searching for someone holding even just a bit of receptiveness to my words in the sea of doubtful gazes bestowed upon me. 

Laswell cleared her throat again, my neck snapping in the direction of the screen she was displayed on, praying she'd break out into a fit of laughter before telling me this was all a part of some sick, twisted joke. "Y/n, if you come clean now--the consequences will be much less severe," she stated, her lips pressing together. My eyes filled with a blend of frustration and helplessness as I stared right back at her. "But, I didn't do anything," I replied with exacerbation, my reply repeating like a broken record, beginning to make me feel like I was teetering on the edge of insanity. Laswell pinched the bridge of her nose, growing increasingly frustrated herself as she took a deep, steadying breath, "I don't know what to tell you Y/n. The evidence speaks for itself," she replied matter-of-factly. 

Shaking my head, my eyes began to light ablaze with anger, narrowing in response to the persistent doubt and distrust that seemed to surround me. My mouth opened to speak again, to demand for Laswell or anybody else to understand that I didn't do whatever the hell they've accused me of, but I was immediately cut off by Price. "How do you expect us to believe when you kept your relation with Hassan in the dark," he rasped gruffly, his own voice harboring frustration much like my own. Subtle ripples of irritation began to transform into visible waves beneath my surface. "Those are two very different things, Captain," I hissed angrily, focusing my attention onto him as my jaw tightened.

Price hesitated for a moment before the swirling currents of doubt dousing my narrative overran any previous trust he held for me. "What I don't understand Y/n," Laswell quickly started, her voice carrying through the laptop, gaining my immediate attention, "Is why these messages only started after your first mission in Las Almas." The crease between my eyebrows deepened as I blinked at her. Before I even had the chance to respond, Ghost's voice boomed through the room, reverberating against the walls. "The mission where you tried to run off?" He snarled bitterly at me, his eyes swimming in pools of anger. Price stepped in, his hand firmly wrapping around Ghost's shoulder as he pulled him back from where I stood. "She tried to run off?" Price asked, my eyes taking notice of how any minuscule traces of belief he had in what I defended myself with disappeared in an instant.

Ghost nodded his head, the air around him vibrating with the intensity of his actions, each word he spoke serving as a lightning strike through my being, sharp and searing. Every sentence that he barked out made the odds of me emerging from this room a free woman dwindle right before my eyes. "Yeah, she fuckin' ran off and almost got Soap bloody killed," he yelled, his speech spilling out in a torrent of heated words, his tempest of emotions finally engulfing him completely. Soap looked down at his feet as both Gaz and Price glared at me, silently fuming. Ghost snapped his head back in my direction at the sound of my sniffle, a dry lump building up in my throat as he rapidly stormed up to me, no longer being held back by anybody else. "I should've never let you walk out of that interrogation room alive," he bit in my face, malice dripping from his tone.

The determination to prove my innocence slowly managed to slip through my fingers as I stared up at him, watching how his eyes glazed over with indignation. "That day when you told me I should've just killed ya," he chuckled darkly, shaking his head before pointing a gloved finger in my face, "You were fucking right." The loudness of his voice continued to rise, a crescendo of hatred-filled anger swarming around the atmosphere between us, my lungs constricting as if I was choking on it, "Like father like daughter right?" he seethed. My heart ached in my chest as his words stabbed me straight through it, the corners of my mouth downturning as a small tremble made its way to my lips, tears beginning to burn my eyes and blur my vision.

"Oh? Now you're fucking crying," Ghost scoffed bitterly before shaking his head. A glistening sheen of held-back tears reflected against the whites of my eyes as I quickly wiped them away. "You don't mean that," I whispered quietly in a wavering voice, trying to convince myself what I said was true, Ghost immediately disproving it without a second thought. "Yes I do," he spat, his eyes narrowing down at me, "Of course I fucking do." Tears began to stream down my cheeks against my will as I shook my head, not wanting to believe anything he was saying to me. "You are nothing more than a terrorist bitch," he hissed under his breath, his hands balling into fists, his jaw clenching beneath the fabric of his balaclava. The dam of my composure finally broke apart as a symphony of silent sobs fell from my swollen lips, orchestrating a haunting melody that filled the room.

My eyes became veiled with a shimmering pool of endless tears before they ultimately cascaded down my pallid features, staining my cheeks as they ran down them, mirroring the ebb and flow of my cries. Ghost growled under his breath before shoving me harshly, my body crashing down onto the floor. "This is fucking BETRAYAL," he shouted angrily, his feet stomping up to my trembling form laid out across the dirty ground. Gut-wrenching wails escaped themselves from deep in the base of my throat as I stared up at him through teary eyes, my tied-up, shaking hands pushing down into the floor beneath my palms as I steadied myself upright. "You betrayed us after all of the chances we gave you, after everything we have done for you!" he roared loudly, his crazed eyes darting around my face, searching for even an ounce of mistruth to every desperate cry of belief I begged for.

My words became caught in my throat, caught under the lump of sobs I tried to hold back but failed miserably in doing so. Ghost glared at me as the sounds of my cries emanated from deep inside of my being, echoing around the room, showcasing the raw essence of my pain, all of the hurt I felt laid bare between us. Shaking his head, his hands clenched into tightly bound fists, his arms trembling at his sides as he fought to hold himself back from unleashing his emotional pain out on me physically once more. My eyes forced themselves closed once again as I sucked in wavering breaths, not wanting to see the rage directed at me in his gaze for any longer. "You disgust me," he spat angrily, his voice holding no ounce of hesitation. My shoulders shook as I cried, his words a steely dagger stabbing straight through my heart.

Laswell's voice called out through the laptop once more, her tone still strict, not holding any pity for the loud sobs shaking my core. "I'm sorry it had to come to this Y/n, I really did think better of you," she stated, her words laced with a mixture of disappointment and frustration. There was a beat of silence that followed, only filled up by my silent sobs, my shaking inhales and exhales, a delicate dance between my need for air and the gut-wrenching emotions wracking my body. "John, take her away," she finalized, her gaze falling on Price through the monitor. My eyes shot open in utter fear, "Wait, wait, wait!" I screamed out, though nobody seemed to care. Price quickly walked up to me, grabbing me by my arms, "With pleasure," he gruffly replied, attempting to drag me away.

Every muscle in my body strained and tensed as I anchored myself into the ground, the heels of my feet planting themselves firmly into the floor beneath me. "No, please, NO!" I cried out, using all the strength in my legs to keep me where I stood, my body becoming a battleground filled with resistance. Price grunted loudly as he continued to yank my arms from behind, my bones feeling like they'd snap at any moment. "B-b-but I didn't-" I shook my head as I fought to remain where I was "- I didn't do anything!" I shouted, my breathing coming out in sporadic bursts between my words. Price shot his boot to the back of my knees as he continued to try and rip me away, my body immediately falling back, loosing all the leverage I hardly managed to maintain. Soap looked away, shaking his head. Ghost and Gaz stood rigid and unmoving. Nobody seeming to care.

A pained cry fell from my lips as Price started to drag me away, my feet scrambling beneath my legs as I fought to stand upright. "Let's go," he hissed bitterly between panting breaths. Tears blurred my vision once more as I crossed the threshold out of the room, slowly being forced into a different part of Alejandro's safe house I'd never seen before. Price released my arm with one hand as he dug through a pocket of his cargo pants, pulling out a set of keys. "Captain, y-you have to believe me," I blubbered between my loud wails, looking up at him through bleary eyes, my lashes coated in crystal tears. "Well Y/n," he scoffed, inserting the key into the lock of the door directly behind me, "I don't." With that final statement, he shoved the door open before throwing my body inside of the small room like a ragdoll, instantly slamming the door shut the moment my limbs made harsh contact with the ground.

My chest constricted as I coughed wildly, my body laying sprawled out across the ground. My breathing was momentarily arrested before I gasped for air, having the wind knocked out of me a second time in under an hour. My eyes widened in pain as my jaw tightened, my gaze falling down to my wound that was now leaking endless blood. "Fuck," I whispered through clenched teeth, discomfort inscribed all over my face. My heart ached in my chest as I slowly sat myself back up, hissing in agony. The air hung stagnant and heavy around me, reflecting the weight of my situation, the weight of sorrow filling my entirety. "Why," I mumbled quietly to myself, shaking my head as I fought back even more tears. None of this made sense, not a single fucking part of it. "How," I whispered under my breath, my voice wavering ever so slightly as my lips began to quiver once more. 

My gaze fell to the wooden door in front of me, almost mocking me in a way, my freedom on the other side of it. A tiny, rectangular window sat high up on the wall behind my back, the Sun's rays filtering through its glass, illuminating the ground around me. The room itself was small and barren, not a single object inside that could aid any sort of plan of escape. I was utterly and entirely alone, left to my own devices as I rotted away. "LET ME OUT, P-PLEASE!" I shouted loudly, praying my plea would penetrate through the door, part of me knowing if it did it'd fall on deaf ears once again. My throat began to feel raw from my constant yelling and sobbing, sobbing until all of my tears dried up and there was nothing left for me to give, yelling until there was nothing else for me to yell. 

Seconds bled into minutes that bled into hours, time feeling almost irrelevant the longer I remained in my captivity. My body began to grow stiff the longer I sat immobilized on the ground, not having the energy to even move anymore. My fate had been sealed like a tomb, the world fucking me over for the very last time. It was always inevitable, wasn't it? Where everything would eventually catch up? There's only so long someone can push away their destiny, to run from the truth that so desperately wanted to swallow them whole, before they'd eventually be caught in a moment of weakness. Only, the truth that they claimed of me was anything but. But what could I possibly say that'd make them suddenly believe me? Not after all of the shit that I'd pulled, not after all the lies that I'd fed them, not after all of the issues that seemed to follow behind me everywhere I went.

Hope was fleeting in my mind, leaving me feeling a little more broken as time continued to pass. Was this really it? After everything, this was the beginning of my end? The more I pondered on it, maybe the beginning of it truly happened the moment I bargained my life to help the Task Force, to try and do right in my world filled with wrongs. Maybe it was my mistake to believe I could ever do something good, to ever do something better than what my life had been brought up to be. This was my fate after all, it truly was inevitable. Inevitability seemed to be my word of the day. It was a bittersweet thought, almost bringing a smile up to my lips. Maybe this, all of this, was somebody's plan up above. A cruel destiny reserved just for me, Y/n being just another name off their checklist. Maybe this is how it was always supposed to be. Just maybe. 

But I couldn't go down without a fight, I just couldn't. Not if I had anything to say about it. Like I said, my hope may be fleeting, but my determination grew stronger with each passing moment. Maybe I really was pushing off the inevitable, but if there was even the smallest chance I could fight for just a little bit longer, I'd take it in a fucking instant. Besides, right now, all I had was time. My mind raced with thoughts as the golden light that once filled up the room slowly began to dissipate until I was left in total darkness, the only illumination coming from a harsh glow brightening up some parts of the room emanating from the edges of the door. My eyebrows furrowed at the sight. The retreating sounds of the Task Force's footsteps filled my ears hours ago. Maybe there was someone still here.

An idea sparked in my head, a dumb one albeit, but an idea nonetheless. Slowly I pushed my aching palms into the ground beneath them, a pins and needles feeling immediately shooting up the bones of my arms as I did so. Using the wall for support, I steadied my bruised back up on it, slowly shimmying myself up into a standing position. My teeth clenched as I tried to pry my hands apart, to snap the zip ties binding them together, the efforts quickly proving to be futile. "For Gods sake," I muttered under my breath, my voice hoarse. My eyes brightened in an instant as remembrance struck through my brain: I'm double fucking jointed. Quickly I lifted my arms behind my back, the joints of my shoulders popping as I moved them in a 360° motion, my teeth gritting together in slight discomfort. A slight gasp left my mouth as my hands finally fell in front of my lap, a genuine smile making its way to my lips for the first time all day.

Maybe everything wasn't inevitable, maybe there really was a chance. My eyes darted to the door, my heart racing wildly in my chest as I approached it. This was my last saving grace, everything relied on what I was about to do, and I could only pray that it'd be enough. With a deep breath, I opened my mouth, still holding its slight smile. "SOMEBODY-- HELP ME, PLEASE!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, the intensity of my words slashing against my raw throat. "PLEASE, HELP ME! HELP ME!" I screamed out again, the desperation in my voice real. Putting as much fear into my tone I could possibly could, I yelled for a third time, "O-OH GOD! HELP ME! HELP ME PLEASE!" My eyes widened at the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps filling my ears, a grin pulling at the corners of my lips as I took two steps away from the door, retreating into total darkness.

The sound of the handle being quickly being unlocked was like music to my ears, this was it, my chance. Like Laswell famously said: "Don't fuck it up." The minute the door bursted open, the minute the Los Vaqueros soldier ushered himself deep enough inside, I sprung from the shadows, kicking his legs in, watching how he fell to his knees. My feet rapidly brought me straight behind his back as my arms fell forward, wrapping themselves tightly around his neck, choking him slightly with the zip ties still binding my wrists. "Where are they," I hissed in his ear, applying a bit more pressure. The soldier sputtered for breath, doing his best to pry my arms apart, but the resistance from my cuffs kept them in place. "WHERE ARE THEY!" My voice boomed through the room, echoing off the walls and surely reverberating throughout his trembling body. 

My mouth lowered itself to his ear, "I'm gonna ask one more time before I fucking kill you," I hissed quietly, hoping he wouldn't notice the emptiness of my threat. Tears began to run down from the soldiers eyes, the tiny droplets splashing softly onto the dirty skin of my hands. "Chicago!" He cried out, still trying to remove my arms from around his neck. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, why the fuck would they be in Chicago? "If you're lying so help me fucking God!" I screamed loudly, my spit flying against the side of his face, my crazed eyes falling down to the soldiers features as my arms tightening just a bit more. "P-Please! They're in Chicago for Hassan! The missile!" The soldier blubbered, his voice sounding strained. My eyes widened, goosebumps emerging on my skin. "Hassan..." I muttered quietly before nodding my head.

My arms tightened further, completely cutting off the air flow to the soldier's lungs, watching how he immediately began to gasp for breath. "Sorry," I mumbled under my breath as I applied even more pressure to his throat, leaning my body back before I jerked my arms upright. The soldiers hands that once grasped my arms tightly slowly began to loosen their grip before finally falling limply at his sides. Instantly I brought my arms up, letting his body drop down to the ground. Using as much force as I possibly could, I bent my knee upright before slamming my wrists down, the zip ties snapping apart on impact. A breath I hadn't realized I'd even been holding in escaped from my lips before my gaze darted down to the soldier. Getting on my knees, I checked for a pulse, praying there'd be one. A slow thump against against my fingers made me sigh in relief before I stood upright once more.

My eyes darted around as I slowly emerged from the room, what fucking now? A question I had no answer to rattled in my mind. Idea number one worked, time for stupid idea number fucking two. My feet quickly brought me back into the room, yet again kneeling in front of the soldier, patting around his body before finding a radio. Standing up again, I pressed down on a button, putting on my most gruff voice, "Need immediate exfil, safe house," I muttered deeply, hoping it'd just work. Please just work. A moment of brief static followed before a grainy voice replied, "Ramirez? That you?" Swallowing thickly, I responded, "Yes." Another pause filled the radio, cold sweats began to erupt across my body the longer the silence lasted. "Sending exfil your way, two minutes out," the man concluded before the comms fell quiet. My eyes widened in relief as I dropped the device to the ground, smashing it underneath my boot.

My feet booked it straight out of the room, sprinting through a familiar hallway before being met with a larger area, the very back of it holding the weaponry closet. "Fuck yes," I mumbled quietly to myself as I stormed up to it, grabbing the first gun in my reach. Checking the ammo, my legs carried me straight out of the structure and into the night sky, the fresh air filling my lungs. The loud sound of a helicopter rotors slicing through the atmosphere caught my immediate attention, my body quickly retreating itself into the shadows as I watched the aircraft begin its descent. A maelstrom of dirt and grass whipped across my features as the landing gear made contact with the ground. Now or fucking never. I fucking hated helicopters. What better goddamn time to face my fear? With a steadying breath, I raced to the chopper, jumping inside of it before approaching the cockpit, my rifle aimed straight at the Captain.

"Get the fuck out," I angrily barked, switching the safety off my gun as I did so. The Captain's wide, horrified eyes fell on me as he shakily put his hands up, nodding his head feverishly in understandment. Quickly he lifted himself into an upright position, his gaze never leaving the rifle I kept aimed at his skull. "Give me your radio," I demanded, motioning with my gun to the device on his shoulder. Without any hesitation he ripped it straight off its velcro binding before placing it in my outstretched palm. Jerking my head to the door of the chopper, I nonverbally ordered him to get the fuck out. With trembling hands still high above his shoulders, he shakily walked around me before jumping off the aircraft, his face so pale it looked as if he'd seen a ghost. With a small smirk, I nodded, "Pleasure doing business," I mumbled before walking into the cockpit, sitting myself down in the Captain's seat.

It's times like these I'm glad I was forced to take that stupid airmanship class, no matter how much I hated it. Most of the buttons and switches I understood, but it'd been a long time since I'd taken that course and many things had clearly changed since then. "Fuck it," I muttered under my breath as I buckled the seatbelt tightly into place around my body, applying pressure to the wound still leaking on my side. With gritted teeth, my fingers diligently plugged the coordinates for Chicago into the navigation system, hoping I'd be able to make it in time. My thumb quickly pushed down on a button soon after before my hands gripped the handles directly in front of me. Slowly the aircraft began to ascend from the ground. With a small, hoarse chuckle, I began to fly off into the horizon, leaving behind Alejandro's safe house, the unconscious soldier, and the horrified pilot in my dust. Literally. 

"Chicago, here I fucking come."