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Right or Wrong

Word count: 4.1k

Alejandro looked back at the rest of us, nodding his head, "Let's go! Vamos," he ordered before booking it toward the stairwell, his gun raised to his chest. Soap bent down, slinging his rifle back over his shoulder before latching his hands around Hassan's wrists, hoisting him upwards. Cold sweats began to pour from body, my eyes never leaving my old Major's form, the way his feet could barely keep up with him as Soap pushed him forward before quickly walking down the stairwell. Ghost's eyes studied me, noticing the way my hands trembled around the stock of my rifle as I held it against my chest, how I took a deep shaky breaths before sprinting after Soap and Alejandro. 

Ghost repeated the same process once I was out of his line of sight, racing down the stairs right behind me. My legs carried my body in long, bounding strides as I took a sharp turn directly out of the broken door leading back out into the courtyard, the ground seeming to rush beneath me. My feet worked agilely, stepping in and out of cartel corpses bleeding out on the stony pathway. The exfil vehicle was parked directly in front of us; a large army green SUV with two rows of seats in the back. Rodolfo was perched out of the driver's side window, waving his hands and calling out to us, "Come on, come on!" 

Soap kept his hands tightly gripped against Hassan's lower arms, quickly walking toward the backside of the vehicle with a scowl on his face. Hassan tried to thrash out of the iron vice he was locked in, yelling out angrily beneath the rough fibre of the burlap bag, "I am a Quds Force Major! You have no right-" he was immediately cut off by Soap slamming him up against the back of the SUV, glaring down at him, "Shut the fuck up," he growled in his ear. My eyes widened at the entire interaction, my feet planted firmly into splintered cobblestone beneath my boots. I wouldn't trust myself to even move an inch, feeling like I was moments away from collapsing to the ground.

With Hassan still pressed up against the backside of the vehicle, Soap let go of him with one hand and swung the door open, shoving Hassan into the car. "You will pay dearly for this," Hassan barked, shaking his shoulders and torso in an attempt to break free once again. Soap rolled his eyes as he pushed Hassan's head down and through the threshold into the SUV, throwing him into the very back row of the seats before hopping in behind him. Alejandro grinned at Rodolfo as he opened up the passenger side door, swinging his body inward. "Justo a tiempo hermano (Right on time brother)," Alejandro stated, glancing over at Rodolfo before slamming his door shut. "No iba a dejar tu trasero atrás (Wasn't just gonna leave your ass behind)," Rodolfo replied with a smirk. 

Ghost began to walk to the other side of the vehicle before turning back to look at me, my face still wide-eyed and pale, not having moved an inch since I got there. He quickly stepped over to where I stood, his tall frame looking down at my face with the smallest bit of compassion in his gaze, hiding behind the harshness of it. "Y/n, we have to go," he beckoned, looking me up and down. My horrified stare met Ghost, my mouth opened to protest, but it was too dry to formulate a coherent sentence. He nodded, looking back at the SUV before returning his attention toward me once again. "You don't have to sit in the bloody middle this time," he grumbled, doing his best to change my mood and make me feel a little bit more comfortable.

Tears prickled my eyes as I nodded my head, that was all I could do, my mind was basically a raging war zone, fighting between two different sides in my head. Right and wrong. Ghost's eyes flitted all over me, "Come on, Y/n," he mumbled, hesitantly reaching his hand out to interlock his fingers around my loosely hanging arm. His touch went unnoticed to my nerve endings, I could barely feel--it if at all. His feet began to make his way back to the side of the car, slowly as to not let me stumble under the weight of my shaking legs. Absentmindedly I began to follow him, the world around me nothing more than an abstract haze. 

Ghost's freehand reached out toward the handle of the vehicle, not pulling it open just yet. He angled his down toward me, his eyes soaking up every expression or lack thereof I made. "I got you, Y/n," he rasped in a quiet tone before swinging the door open and hopping inside. My eyes peered into the car, Hassan and Soap were sitting in the back, while Ghost moved to the left side of the upper row of seats, looking at me with a somber expression. If only he knew. Shakily, I stepped into the car, plopping my ass down in my own seat without feeling cramped like usual. My whole body felt numb as I slammed the door shut behind me, buckling in my seatbelt as the car lurched forward.

The vehicle remained eerily quiet, only ever getting filled by Hassan's Arabic curses from time to time, but those quickly died out the further we traveled. My eyes roamed between each man in the car, skipping over Hassan. I couldn't possibly look at him, even having to sit in the same car as him had my mind lost in a heavy, emotionless fog. The lengths I went through to not see him even as a high ranking Lieutenant in Al-Qatala, the lengths I went through to never hear his voice, be in his presence, was remarkable. He was an evil person, so much death and destruction followed him everywhere he went. And, he enjoyed it. But how could I truly judge when the same followed me? Because I didn't enjoy it? But that doesn't matter when the end result is always the same no matter the intention behind it.

My expression remained vacant, my eyes staring into the seat in front of me, not really absorbing the sight at the same time. Memories replayed in my head like a never ending time loop, reliving all the shit I went through as a soldier, all the things I was forced to do against my will, while the cause of it sat behind me in the SUV, cursing and yelling. My thoughts wandered from one traumatic thing to the next, my only comfort was the Task Force, of how they saved me, and then to how I tried running away, to how Soap got shot, to how I lied to them, to how they believed me and gave me mercy for a second time. Of course my intentions weren't ill mannered, but if they knew what else was lurking beneath my surface... No, I don't want to think about that.

My hands began to clench into tightly balled fists above my lap, my nails digging into the soft flesh of my palms, attempting to use the physical pain to keep my mind away from the mental agony I was reeling in. The car continued to hurtle down the empty road, kicking up dirt in its path. The sun slowly set in the horizon, the golden glow filling up the car, shining directly into my vacant eyes, the world around me feeling so distant. The blank features of my face were only illuminated by the amber light filtering through the windows. My impassive gaze remained unmoving the longer I drowned into my thoughts.

Right and wrong was such an arbitrary topic, who really decides what is deemed correct or incorrect? Some say God, others say the universe, by karma, by the law. But how can someone really know when they've been taught one thing for the bulk of their life? What if from birth you were born into believing right is wrong and wrong is right, that your mind has always been stuck inside of a mental tug of war, not understanding who is correct? And even if you could understand, how do you know what you're doing will benefit others? What if doing the wrong thing made the world better, and doing the right thing ruined everything surrounding you? Who decides that? To do right, you need to do some wrong. But how does that make sense?

The screeching of tires ripped me from my thoughts that were slowly starting suffocate me. The function of my vision returned, and suddenly the Sun was past the horizon and the vehicle was consumed by darkness, the surrounding area only illuminated by the front headlights of the SUV. Doors around me began to swing open and slam shut, the muffled sound of boots and orders, of yelling and cussing, started to trickle through my brain. I needed to get out of the car, open my door, hop out, close the door behind me. That's all. It will all be okay. Until it wouldn't be, until everything would eventually come crashing down. Nobody can ever outrun the truth.

My hands reached out for my handle, pulling it to the side before shoving the door out in front of me, my boots colliding against the scattered grass covered in dirt. As I made my way around the vehicle, Hassan was sat on his knees, wrists bound behind his back with the bag still covering his head. Graves glanced over at me and scoffed before turning toward Ghost, "Really? This is your help," he laughed, shaking his head, "A terrorist?" At the word terrorist, Hassan's head perked up again, looking around even though his eyes were still covered by the burlap fabric. Ghost's eyes narrowed down at Graves, slowly approaching him as he held a gloved finger up to his face, "Watch yourself, Graves," he growled before taking a step back.

Graves shook his head again before looking over at me, his eyes narrowing with iris's swimming with undeniable loathing. But, I couldn't even think or process that right now, not with my old Major sitting with his knees pressed into the dirt in front of me. Graves slowly began to approach where I was, bringing his lips up to my ear, "I don't fucking trust you," he mumbled before slapping me harshly against my back and walking away. Ghost's hands clenched at his sides, he looked three seconds away before unleashing at Graves. The sight of that didn't register in my head, Graves threatening tone didn't register, Soap looking at me with concern didn't register. My tunnel vision and constricted brain only saw Hassan kneeling before me. 

Graves stared at me for a few more seconds before approaching a small military laptop propped up against a small crate. After pressing a button, the screen flickered on, the bright light illuminating against the dark sky, the camera aimed at all of us. Shakily, I took a step back as Soap glanced over at me, hesitantly pulling the sack off of Hassan's face. Graves was saying something that I couldn't hear, Ghost was staring at me that I couldn't see, Soap approached me that I didn't notice. Hassan looked around before his gaze fell on my form, on the British logo at the forefront of my vest, at the 141 emblem on my sleeve. "ماذا تفعل هنا بحق الجحيم، لماذا ترتدي هذا بحق الجحيم؟ (What the fuck are you doing here, why the fuck are you wearing that)?" He angrily barked at me, his eyes narrowing in my direction.

Everything around me went silent, or at least I think it did. I couldn't hear the chirping birds, the crickets, the sound of Graves looking over at me and saying something under his breath, Ghost replying for me angrily in return. Hassan's voice echoed around in my ears, his words ringing around my brain like a merry-go-round. I took a step back, my legs shaking beneath my torso, Hassan's deadly glare only leaving me to momentarily look at Graves. "You know Arabic?" He asked in his nightmarish accent. Graves' voice began to filter through my consciousness once again, barely audible over the rushing blood in my ears. 

Graves pursed his lips together as his hands tightly gripped around the top edge of his tactical vest, letting his elbows hang loosely as he approached Hassan. "No," he bluntly replied, angling his head down at him. Hassan nodded his head, looking around, letting his stare linger on me before looking back up at Graves, "Farsi?" He asked, his voice growing more agitated. Graves looked around as well before returning his gaze back down to Hassan, "No," he replied, getting more annoyed himself. Hassan chuckled, "I would speak your bastardized English language, but I see no point with Y/n with us," he grinned, nodding over in my direction. 

My breath hitched in my throat, my feet wobbling beneath me as I took yet another step back. Graves narrowed his eyes down, his lips pulling to the side as he looked back at my form along with everyone else. "You two in cahoots?" he asked me, his steady voice hiding the underlying threat between his words. My wide eyes met his, gulping audibly, I nodded my head, "He was my Major..." I replied, my voice not being able to rise above a whisper. Graves nodded his head before walking over to me, gripping his hand around my forearm and dragging me closer to Hassan. My entire body began to tremble as I looked up at Graves with pleading eyes, begging him to not make me do this. I was only met with an amused glint in his stare. 

Was this how I needed to prove myself? With General Shepherd and Laswell's piercing gaze's locked on my shaking body, being able to see the fear radiating off of me even through a screen? Hassan laughed loudly, his eyes boring into mine. "You stupid بنت (girl)," he hissed between clenched teeth, "أيها الخائن (You traitor)!" He roared loudly, causing me to jump back with a loud yelp. Soap's eyes narrowed down at Hassan, taking two large steps in his direction. Graves shook his head, glaring over at me before approaching Hassan as well, "Ah, see... we're getting off to a bad start here Hassan," he sighed, looking down at the ground before returning his angry glare aimed at my old Major.

Hassan grinned, nodding his head, "You are talking to a Quds force officer," he replied, shrugging his shoulders slightly. Graves took yet another step forward, his gaze unwavering as he kept his sights on Hassan, "You're the commander of a foreign terror organization..." the words they began to share slowly started muffle into insignificance due to my racing thoughts once more. All other sounds followed suite, drowning out the further I fell down the never ending rabbit hole of my mind. Hassan would glance at me every now and again, looking like he wanted to rip me to shreds with his bare hands alone. The amount of hell he'd put me through alone, all of the restless nights, all of the gruesome feelings I get when I even think about him. It was enough to have me lost in fear, trapped in my head as long as he stayed in my presence. 

The only word to snap me out of my daze came from Soap as he barked out the name I knew would have Hassan on the brink of exploding. "You and your beloved General Ghorbrani broke every-" he was immediately cut off by Hassan thrashing against the restraints, snapping his head toward Soap's direction, my heart dropped down to my feet. "DO NOT SPEAK HIS NAME!" Hassan screamed out, his voice shaking my bones and wracking me with dread. Tears prickled my eyes as Alejandro had to shove Hassan's knees back into the ground when he tried scooting toward Soap. My entire form trembled violently, my knees ready to buckle at any second. "You executed him and you will pay for you crimes," he yelled out again, his darting around at everybody surrounding him, "الله وحده قادر على مساعدتك الآن (Only God can help you now!"

Hassan snapped his head in my direction, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. A singular tear rolled down my cheek, my vision blurred by the many more pooling at my waterline. "I want this bastard in permanent custody, or looking up at the goddamn grass," General Shepherd ordered loudly through the laptop. Hassan's eyes never left mine, he saw my fear, and he was relishing in it. "إنهم لا يعرفون من أنت حقًا، أليس كذلك؟ (They don't know who you really are, do they)?" Hassan uttered in my direction, attempting to inch closer to me using his knees, but Alejandro ripped him back once more, "ماذا تخفي عنهم؟ (What you're hiding from them)?" He continued before laughing loudly, shaking his head. The hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention, cold rivulets of sweat rolled down from it before traveling into the contours of my back. 

Everyone was staring at me with furrowed eyebrows and confused expressions while bountiful amounts of uncertainty mixed with suspicion filled the atmosphere, beginning to suffocate me from the outside in. "They fuck is he saying?" Graves ordered, approaching me quickly. My eyes darted in his direction, my throat feeling dry as Hassan gave me a wicked look, darkness swimming in his hazel eyes. "He's saying how he's going to bring fire to your nation," I mumbled in return, the lie sliding off my tongue like smooth butter. That was what he would order to his soldiers, rain hell on anybody who got in our way. Right or wrong. Was this right or wrong? By the way Graves nodded his head, I knew he'd believed me. "Well you tell him we'll bury his ass in the dirt," he stated in a deep Southern accent. 

Nodding my head, I looked back down at Hassan, clenching my fists at my sides to stop my hands from shaking. "لا (Don't)," I pleaded, my voice wavering so much that my Arabic was difficult to make out. But Hassan was used to my trembling voice by now, he made out the word without even needing to think about it. "سوف تقنعهم بالسماح لي بالرحيل (You will convince them to let me go)," he growled back at me, an evil smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. My eyes widened as I looked back out at everyone else, my gaze whipping toward the laptop as General Shepherd's voice boomed through the speaker, "The hell is he saying girl?" 

My voice went to speak, but nothing came out. Shaking my head, I forced the lump of words building in my throat straight from it, "He says that this is illegal, that he is a hostage," I replied in a shaking voice. Graves broke out into laughter, shaking his head as he walked in a small circle around where he was standing. Alejandro gripped Hassan's shoulder tightly and leaned down close to his ear, "You are a prisoner of war." Hassan glanced over at me, giving me a look that spoke a thousand words. I needed to try harder. My gaze flicked up to Alejandro, "Technically, Iran is not in war with Mexico... he's broken no laws," I mumbled, tears prickling my eyes once again. Graves shot his head in my direction, "The hell are you doing defending him?" He asked in an accusatory tone.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. My eyes followed his movements as he approached me, Ghost taking another step forward in my direction, narrowing his eyes down at Graves. Another huge lump formed in my throat as tears started to spill from my eyes down my cheeks, splashing softly into the dirt below my boots. "That's just what he said..." I replied, taking a step away from Graves, Ghost stood tall behind me like a guard dog, his arms crossed tightly over his broad chest. Graves looked back at the laptop before returning his gaze to me, "And why couldn't he just say that himself?" He asked, leaning down to look at me straight in the eyes. "He doesn't want to talk to Americans," I lied again, each fib rolling from my tongue smoothly. Right or wrong?

Graves nodded his head and took a step back. Ghost pulled me closer to him, letting me stand directly at his side. His stature gave me a form of comfort, but guilt was beginning to gnaw at my bones. Hassan grinned at me, a rotten look forming across his features before he turned his head away back toward Graves. Ghost peered down at me through the slits of his mask, looking at me with pity, looking at me like I was a fragile little thing, not seeing me for who I truly was. I had to tear my eyes away from him as shame overtook my body, my vision falling down to my boots. Laswell's voice filled up the air, "Killing Hassan would be an act of war, Y/n is correct. Keeping him is illegal. Right now, he is too hot to hold."

General Shepherd replied in a dark voice, his tone flat but still holding a hint of anger, "Tell me you're getting something actionable, Laswell." After a few moments, Laswell replied in a hurried voice, "Working on it. Stand by." My eyes remained downcast, my heart still feeling like it was moments away from flatlining in my chest. I needed to get out of here, I needed to never see Hassan again. A part of me wished I died in that interrogation room, I wouldn't have to deal with any of this. Wouldn't have to fight a war within myself, wouldn't have struggle with a problem most people don't have. Right or wrong.

Graves rapidly approached the laptop, resting his hands on either side of the crate it sat upon. "Actual, let me finish this," he whispered darkly through the speaker, his eyes flitting all over the screen with his lips tightly pursed together. "There is nothing I would like more," General Shepherd replied, his own tone stark and gruff, "But Y/n was right. Without a cause we need to turn him loose. See where he leads us." Soap angrily stomped up to the laptop, glaring through the camera. "He's right there," he scoffed, "You can't be serious!" Hassan looked over in their direction, grinning from ear to ear. "I'm afraid I am son," General Shepherd replied in a bleak voice.

Soap narrowed his eyes before shaking his head and walking away from the screen, muttering curses to himself. Ghost stepped out from behind me, looking down at Hassan's phone in his hand before glancing at him. "Did we get anything from his phone?" Ghost asked gruffly, walking up toward the screen himself as I quickly followed behind him, not wanting to be left alone with Hassan. I just couldn't face him alone. Ghost, right now, was my lifeline. "Affirmative, we got a hit," Laswell replied, looking toward a different screen to her right, out of view of the camera. "Good, now take him back and let him go," General Shepherd ordered before his screen went black. 

Alejandro muttered to himself as he roughly shoved the burlap bag back over Hassan's face, tightly gripping his hands around Hassan's tied up wrists before yanking him upright. "Arriba, imbécil. Vamos (Up asshole. Let's go," Alejandro muttered under his breath, guiding my old Major back toward the vehicle. As he walked, Ghost slipped Hassan's phone back in his pocket seamlessly. My teary eyes met Ghost's again, I wanted nothing more than him to gently raise my face to meet his, to tell me everything would be okay. But, he only gave me a nod before following Alejandro toward the vehicle along with Soap. Graves glared at me one last time before I turned away from him, trailing everybody else as my hands nervously fidgeted in front of my lap.

As long as Hassan was out free, after seeing my face, after discovering I'd betrayed him and began working for the British SAS, after watching how horrified I became when he threatened to tell the others what I've kept hidden from them for a long, long time. I knew I, for a fact, would never be safe, not until he was neutralized. And after tonight? I would die fighting for that to happen. That, I truly believed, was right. 

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