Task - 141

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TASK FORCE 141 — THE GIRL THEY COULDN'T AFFORD TO LOSE The world knew them as Task Force 141. The deadliest soldiers, the most dangerous men, the ones you prayed you would never have to face on the battlefield. But you knew them differently. You knew Soap as the annoying idiot who stole your snacks and challenged you to stupid competitions. You knew Gaz as the voice of reason who usually ended up joining the chaos anyway. You knew Price as the man who had watched you grow up and somehow become one of the best soldiers he'd ever commanded. And Ghost? Simon Riley had been your best friend since childhood. Before the masks, before the bloodshed, before the world turned him into a man who trusted nobody. You'd known the boy beneath the skull balaclava long before anyone called him Ghost. You were the one person who could recognize his footsteps, understand his silences, and tell when he was lying just by the way he tilted his head. He'd never admit it, but you were his weakness. And he was yours. You'd grown up together, survived things no child ever should have experienced, and made a promise that neither of you would ever leave the other behind. Now, years later, you were the only woman in Task Force 141. And nobody dared question whether you belonged there. You were just as lethal as the rest of them, just as stubborn, and twice as reckless when someone you loved was in danger. Everything changed when an operation in Eastern Europe went catastrophically wrong. An informant had betrayed your team. Their extraction point was compromised, enemy forces were closing in, and someone had leaked the classified location of every member of Task Force 141. Including yours. Back at base, Price slammed a folder onto the briefing table. "Someone's been feeding our locations to the enemy." Soap's usual grin disappeared. "You're joking." "Do I look like I'm joking, Johnny?" Gaz studied the photographs scattered across the table. "These aren't random attacks. Someone knows our routines. Our safehouses. Everything." Ghost stood silently beside you, arms crossed, his eyes fixed on a single photograph. Yours. Someone had circled your face in red. Beneath it were three words. BRING HER ALIVE. Your stomach dropped. Soap leaned over your shoulder. "Well, that's bloody reassuring." "Shut up, Soap," Ghost muttered. But his voice was different. Colder. More dangerous. You glanced at him. "Simon?" He folded the photograph in half and shoved it into his pocket. "We're leaving." Price frowned. "Riley, we haven't finished the briefing." "Don't care." "Ghost." "They want her." His eyes lifted to Price. "They're not getting her." You'd seen Ghost angry before. You'd seen him injured, exhausted, and pushed to his limits. You'd never seen him look afraid. Not until now. You caught his wrist before he could walk away. "Simon, look at me." His gaze dropped to your hand, then slowly met yours. "I'm not going anywhere without the team," you told him. For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then he leaned closer, his voice low enough that only you could hear. "You're not understanding, love. They didn't ask for a ransom. They didn't threaten the others." His gloved fingers closed gently around your wrist. "They specifically asked for you." Before you could answer, the alarms erupted throughout the base. Red lights flooded the corridors. A voice crackled over the speakers. "SECURITY BREACH. ALL PERSONNEL TO COMBAT POSITIONS." Price immediately drew his weapon. "Everyone, move!" Soap grabbed his rifle. Gaz rushed toward the door. Ghost pulled you behind him instinctively. Then came the gunfire. The lights went out. Somewhere in the darkness, a voice spoke through the base's communication system. "Task Force 141, this is your final warning." A pause. "Hand over the girl, and the rest of you walk away." You felt Ghost go completely still. Then he raised his rifle toward the corridor. His voice was quiet, almost frighteningly calm. "Over my dead body." Soap appeared beside you, checking his ammunition. "Well, princess, looks like someone's got a bloody obsession with you." "Johnny," Gaz warned. "What? I'm trying to keep the mood light!" Price looked directly at you. "You're staying with us. No heroics, no wandering off. Understood?" You nodded, tightening your grip on your weapon. Ghost turned toward you. "Stay behind me." You raised an eyebrow. "I've been saving your arse since we were twelve, Simon." "Yeah, and you've been giving me grey hairs since you were twelve." "You're wearing a mask. How would I know?" Soap actually laughed. Even Ghost's eyes softened for half a second. Then another explosion shook the building. The moment vanished. Ghost reached for your hand, squeezing it once before letting go. A silent promise. I won't lose you. You squeezed his hand back. You never will. Neither of you knew that the enemy had already infiltrated the building. Neither of you knew that someone inside the team had been hiding a secret for years. And neither of you knew that the mission wasn't about capturing you. It was about what you knew. Because years ago, before Task Force 141 existed, your father had disappeared during a classified operation. Everyone believed he was dead. Everyone except the people hunting you. And somewhere beyond the walls of the compromised base, a man watched the live security feed and smiled when your face appeared on the screen. "She's there," he murmured. A second voice answered through his earpiece. "And Ghost?" The man zoomed in on the screen, watching Simon stand between you and the approaching danger. "Oh, let him protect her." His smile widened. "It'll make breaking him so much more satisfying." END OF INTRODUCTION — THE HUNT HAS BEGUN.

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