Hernandez was tapping away on her laptop, writing the mission's report to upload it in Cobalt's system. She needs to update all the jobs carried out even if they were not Cobalt related so that Matthews can be kept up to date. Reynolds was lying on the bed reading her preferred romance novel, the faint sound of music leaking from her earphones.
Hernandez's train of thought was soon interrupted with the deafening banging on their door.
"Yes?" she called out with uncertainty.
MacTavish busted into the room and pointed at Hernandez.
"You, out!" he ordered.
Her frow burrowed at the sudden invasion. She exchanged looks with Reynolds, not liking the captain's attitude.
"Excuse me?"
"I said, get out, I need to speak with Reynolds."
"I'm her superior officer," she said firmly as she stood up from the desk. "Anything you need to say to her you can-"
"I don't give a fuck what you are to her Lieutenant, I told you to fuck off!"
Reynolds nodded at Hernandez, reassuring her that she could handle anything MacTavish threw at her.
Alone in the room, Reynolds squared her shoulders trying to keep up a confident façade against the enraged beast MacTavish was displaying.
"When I give out an order, you obey it without a second thought," he spat.
"Didn't we already have this conversation? You had no problem laying it in me in front of the men yesterday."
"Get on your knees," he growled.
She froze at the request. What the hell was he asking of her?
"What?" she stammered.
"Get on your knees," he repeated, his eyes burning with intensity. "You want to act like a dog that won't heel? I'll treat you like one."
Her mouth gaped open, and reluctantly, she bowed her head as a feeling of shame washed over her.
"He was bleeding to death," she explained, ignoring the tremble in her voice. "I saved his life!"
"You disobeyed a direct order in the middle of a hot zone. You broke formation and refused to fall back as instructed."
"I was closest to him!"
"I was the one giving out orders!" he shot back, his presence suffocating. "My job is to evaluate the situation across the board, Reynolds. I make the hard calls. My call was to fall back and regroup. Your call was to let emotions get the best of you and apparently get killed!"
"I wasn't going to leave him behind," she said through gritted teeth.
"Then you have no place with the 141," he said, staring her down. "This isn't a democracy. We are a unit. We move as one. We trust each other to follow orders, because that's the only thing that keeps us alive. When you go rogue, you don't just endanger yourself. You tell every person on this team that you don't trust them to do their job. You tell me that my word means nothing."
"No! That's not true. I respect the team and your word, sir."
"Bollocks! Ghost and Royce had to come back for you. You compromised the whole Alpha Squad!"
"I'm sorry, sir," she finally breathed.
"Sorry doesn't cut it," he glared at her. "I don't know how you behaved as a Marine or on missions with Cobalt but so far, I am not impressed. Get your act together or get the fuck out of my face."
He turned and walked out the door, leaving her alone in the crushing silence. He hadn't just laid her out for her actions; he had stripped her of her place, her purpose, and the trust of the one person she had started to believe she could count on. And she had no one to blame but herself.
Over the next couple of days, Reynolds kept mostly to herself. She avoided doing anything the other men were doing at the same time. If they trained at five in the morning, she would do it in the late morning, if they ate lunch at 1230 hours, she would do it at 1400 hours. Something in her broke after the conversation with MacTavish and she was not in the mood dealing with anyone. Truthfully, she did not trust herself not to snap if anyone dared socialising with her.
The bed felt eerily uncomfortable, insomnia creeping in every inch of her brain. So, she decided to sweat it out before the men would come out an hour later. The gym was empty at four in the morning which made it the perfect getaway to focus on her sets.
Wearing her hair half-up to keep it out of the way, she wore a sports bra and sweatpants to be as comfortable as possible despite of the chill from outside was crawling inside the gym. Seventies music was blasting in her ears, her body swaying with the rhythm.
After three sets of bicep curls, her arms were protesting with pain. Ignoring the discomfort, she decided to move to the pullup bar. Mid-lift, she felt a sudden clap on her back that made her jump out of her skin and stumble to her feet.
"Christianne! Where the hell have you been?!"
"Roach! For fuck's sake!" she screamed, clutching her chest.
He laughed and threw his towel on a nearby bench and started doing arm circles and warming up.
"You've been avoiding us," he said in a more serious tone.
"Needed to clear my head."
"I hope you're not still thinking about the mission."
"Nah," she lied.
"Good. That means that you will be joining us tonight in the rec room."
"Tonight?"
"Royce's birthday," he grinned. "And let this be a warning; we party hard."
"Sure. I'll come."
Jumping to the bar once more, she proceeded to do a couple of pull ups. Unfortunately, all good things come to an end as the peace in the gym was disrupted by rowdy men taking over the machines.
In a split second, the men were all cheering her and throwing their hands around her. Confused, she tried to understand what the hell was going on. But as fast as they came in crowding her, they dissipated through the gym like rats. She slipped on her hoodie and grabbed her water bottle. As she made her way outside, an arm rested around her shoulders and pulled her back.
"Nu-uh," said Royce, shaking his head. "You're training with us today."
"You've been avoiding us for too long," winked Ozone.
The gym doors swung open once more and MacTavish and Ghost made their way inside. The captain shot Royce a glare and he retracted his arm immediately. Reynolds tensed up and turned to them, forcing a smile.
"Maybe another time," she whispered.
She dropped her gaze and put on the hood, rushing to the door.
"You're not staying for training, Sergeant?" Ghost asked casually.
"Not today, sir."
"You can stay if you like," he pressed on.
Her eyes settled on MacTavish. His gaze was frigid and his presence intimidating. His harsh words echoing in her head.
"I'm ready with my training, sir," she lied, and continued making her way outside.
"What was that about?" Ghost asked MacTavish as they settled near the weights rack.
The captain shrugged as he lied down his towel in the bench, grabbing a 30kg weight for his warmup shoulder presses.
"Don't tell me you gave her shit for the mission," he persisted.
"Which bloody side are you on, Simon?" he snarled.
"Why are you crucifying her for doing the right thing?"
MacTavish slammed the weights on the ground, the loud clinking boomed in the gym turning heads.
"The right thing? The right thing was to follow her bloody orders! She exposed the team and compromised the exfil!"
"And she saved Meat's life," Ghost countered, his eyes boring into his. "He'd be dead in a ditch if she hadn't gone back for him."
"This isn't a boy scout troop, Simon. It's war. People die. We make hard calls. Sometimes we have to cut our losses to save the rest of the unit. That's the job!"
"Is that what you'll tell Meat when he wakes up?" Ghost countered, his voice dangerously quiet. "That his life was an acceptable loss?"
MacTavish's face hardened. "Don't you dare twist my words. You know bloody well I don't feel that way. But my responsibility is to the task force, not to one soldier's bleeding heart."
"Your responsibility is to both," snarled Ghost. "And you're letting your fear cloud your judgment. You're punishing her for being human."
He took another step, closing the distance between them. "You're so focused on being the captain that you've forgotten what it means to lead."
MacTavish stared at him, his chest heaving with suppressed anger. "You think I don't know that? You think I wanted to give that order? Every second I watched her run out there, I was torn in two. But I have to be the one to make the call, no matter how much it hurts. She can't just do whatever she wants. The rules are what keep us alive."
"The rules didn't keep Meat alive," Ghost said simply. "She did. You're telling her that her instincts, the very thing that makes a soldier who he is, are wrong. She saved one of our own and she didn't have to. That's not a crime. That's a reason to have her back. Don't make her regret it."
"Captain, Leftenant, is everything alright?" Roach asked, his eyes cautiously shifting from one to the other.
"It's fine, Roach. Carry on," mumbled MacTavish.
Roach nodded in acknowledgement and made his way back to the squat rack with Ghost right behind him. MacTavish grabbed the weights once more, getting comfortable on the bench prepping for the shoulder presses. His jaw locked as he observed his hardened expression looking back at him in the mirror ignoring the fact that the conversation he just had with his 2IC was not festering in his brain.