Chapter One - Samantha
"Alright wake up Princess time to go" A gruff masked soldier yells at me over the noises of the chopper. Who ever that was has a death wish as they shove my shoulder hard waking me from my really shitty sleep. I grab my bag from between my legs and peep through the door - It's pissing down with rain and I can't say I'm surprised. I jump out and straight into a puddle deeper than I expected and I almost lose my boots in the mud. I land on my hands and knees, the soggy grass soaking straight through my trousers. Great start. The men standing around laugh at me as one of them points in the direction of the main hall saying something I can't hear as the chopper takes off above me. Soldiers pile in to the building ahead of me, just as soggy and desperate for relief from the past few days as I am. I trudge towards them throwing my soaked bag over my shoulder.
Helicopters are the absolute worst form of transport and I'll happily die here if it means I never have to get on another one. Maybe I could swim back to the mainland once I'm done here although I doubt Scottish waters are the friendliest. The extremely small island of Stonybreck will be my home for the foreseeable future. We had to hop from island to island to get here collecting supplies and soldiers along the way. I don't think I've used a proper toilet, had a meal or slept in at least three days. I would kill for a shower, I stink.
As I head towards the main building trying to shield my eyes from the icy cold rain sleeting down, I notice a lone soldier leaning against one of the smaller buildings off to the side. Even with the darkness eclipsing the early morning sunrise, his dark emerald eyes staring through my soul halts me in my tracks the rain chilling me to the bone. He stands so tall, his arms crossed across his chest and his full black tactical gear is so ominous, he's dressed for battle like the Grim Reaper ready to take me to the underworld. As I stare unapologetically I notice his sunken eyed, dirty, cracked skull mask. He straightens and kicks himself off the wall and stalks towards me.
My brain seems to register exactly who I'm staring at, Ghost. The Ghost. The absolutely terrifying, formidable, Simon 'Ghost' Riley. He's a boogeyman, an urban myth. I've heard stories of him ripping out the vocal cords of men he's captured, ripping off fingernails one by one of those who disobeyed him or plucking the eye's from the poor soul that looked at him a second too long. I didn't know he'd be here...
He stalks towards me and I'm stuck in place. He catches up to me in what feels like just three steps despite the heavy rainfall which I'm fairly sure is turning into hail. He leans down and grabs my bag that had slumped off my shoulder straight into a muddy puddle. He lifts the bag with ease and takes my elbow in his gloved hand pulling me gently towards the cover of the main building. A spark runs from his fingertips and straight to my chest - I feel him grip me tighter. The rain heavies and pours down the gutters as the remaining choppers start their engines ready to return to the main island for more soldiers. All my senses are overwhelmed, the noises, the chill of the rain and the way my body warms at Ghost's touch. Ghost pulls me under the main buildings sheltered awning and drops my bag on the concrete by his feet and looks out to the choppers in front of us. I can't help but stare up at him. He is huge, he has to be over six foot and he dwarfs my five foot five frame. His chest and shoulders are so wide I don't think I could wrap my arms around him if I tried - not that I should be thinking about that at all. Amongst the chaos I just cannot stop staring at his eyes, his deep green, no, dark emerald eyes. The skull mask and the dark paint he's used to cover his eye sockets doesn't dull their shine. I half expected the ominous Ghost to have dark eyes, black even, like a shark but seeing them shine with such a beautiful colour has thrown me. It's like looking into the eyes of a wild beast. Something about him is drawing me in even though I know I should be running away.
The remaining choppers take off in unison the noise pulling me away from my staring, my really really obvious staring.
"Thank you for helping me," I try to raise my voice loud enough but it sounds like a whisper.
"What's that love?" Ghost moves closer turning towards me and leaning down and I swear I can feel his breathing on my cheeks. He towers over me almost blocking me from view of everyone else. He smells like clean aftershave and cigarettes. The smell hits me and invades my senses. Instantly my thoughts go to this terrifying man pinning me against the wall behind us and having his way with me in front of everyone - I wouldn't care. Jesus Christ what the hell is wrong with me. I must be close to that time of the month or something because this is insane. This man is a deadly military sniper and all he did was pull my stupid ass out of the rain and carry my bag. Is my bar that low?
"Thank you for helping me," I try speaking louder "I'm just so tired from all the flights. Thanks though. I better go inside and listen in on the meeting." I move towards my bag laying by Ghosts feet and lean down to grab it. Ghost coughs quietly and I look up, his dark soulless eyes staring right at me. He has leant back slightly and is tightly gripping the collar of his tactical vest and while looking down at me crouched at his feet and he winks. Surely he didn't wink at me? Maybe I imagined it, either way I think I may have momentarily fainted.
Ghost leans down effortlessly grabbing the bag straps from me and we both straighten. I feel my cheeks start to heat up and my hearts doing this strange fluttering thing. It feels like I'm about to be devoured by Ghost, that he might just rip my throat out or tear my lungs from my chest. Maybe the legends are true. Maybe he'll pull my beating heart right out and hold it in his bare hands watching it stop beating before discarding it into the rain. At this point I'd probably thank him with my dying breath.
Ghost takes the bag slinging it effortlessly over his shoulder before taking a step into the rain and motioning me to follow him. I quicken my pace to catch up to him.
"Come on," He calls, "We don't want the new nurse getting the flu. That would be fucking pointless wouldn't it? Your quarters are a short walk away, I'll show you the way. Hurry up it's fucking cold out here." His voice is gravely, deep, his British accent so stereotypically attractive. How does he know who I am? He can't even see my name badge as its hidden beneath my very inadequate, very pointless thin raincoat, a shiver runs down my spine as the rain saturates me. He nods in the direction we need to go and without warning his hand moves protectively to my lower back. Even in this cold wind and rain I feel a spark light up my spine and travel south between my legs. Just from a touch - I must be losing my mind.
We march through the rain until I see the infirmary unit. The building is a small brick freestanding office with a connected living area. The perk of being the only nurse on this island is that I will get my own living quarters. The downfall, I'm responsible for all the welfare and care of all the servicemen and women on the island at all times of the day. Ghost drops my bag at the front door and pulls out a key from his pocket. He opens the door and I'm not sure if it's colder inside or out. Ghost ushers me inside the dark room flicking on the light switches as shuts the door behind him. Of the six switches on the wall only one bulb flickers on, dimly illuminating the dusty space. I move towards a lamp on the desk in the corner of the room and switch it on. It doesn't help much which I think is for the best. All the furniture has been pushed into one corner and the medical cabinets are empty, most of the doors are barely hanging on to their hinges. I've got so much work to do cleaning this up and I pray to God that I manage to get it done before someone needs medical intervention. There's hardly a bandage or a button in this office. Tomorrow is going to be a big day. I look up to the clock on the wall making note of the time, it's just gone six am on Sunday morning. I strip off my useless jacket hanging it on the hook by the door and slide my swollen feet from my boots. My socks are soaked so I decide its best to ditch them too - the concrete floor feels so cold underneath my toes.
"Its lovely," I chuckle to myself under my breath as I walk through the infirmary area and into my living area. The door creaks open and I switch on the light - it flickers above me. Does no one change light bulbs around here? There's a kettle on the small kitchen bench so that's a bonus I guess - well it will be if it works. To the left is a small bedroom and further down is a bathroom. A mattress rests against the wall of the bedroom wrapped in its plastic wrap - its new. That makes me feel a bit better, at least it's a clean mattress to sleep on later tonight. The rest I can deal with over the next few days.
Ghost clears his throat behind me and I turn to find him standing against my living area door frame. I slowly walk towards him leaving a sensible gap between us. Sensible because it seems like my brain and another very needy part of me can't seem to get on the same page.
Ghost reaches out his gloved hand to me before quickly drawing it back and removing his glove, re extending his hand to me. I can see the veins lacing across his hand, his calloused fingertips and light scaring running across his knuckles - the hands of a fighter. Peaking from his sleeve I can see some tattoos that I imagine run the lengths of his arms.
"Simon" he says. I take his hand and there's that damn spark again.
"Sam, or Samantha, which ever it doesn't matter," My cheeks heating up as he holds my tiny hand in his. He rubs his thumb across the top of my knuckles softly, intimately. I gaze up to him, our eyes locking and my brain short circuiting for a split second. I could swear that I saw his dark green eyes soften momentarily. He withdraws his hand quickly almost as though he felt the spark that I did.
"Do you think that you could help me put the mattress on the bed frame? Its just, its wrapped in a hundred layers of plastic and I have absolutely no energy left after the past couple of days, is that ok? If you need to go that's fine too, I'm sure I'll manage," I can't help but word vomit around him, I'm so flustered.
Simon nods, kicking off his boots at the door, dropping his gloves on top of them and heading towards the bedroom. He walks past me, brushing up against my arm ever so slightly as he walks past and I can't help but feel this jolt of electricity course through my body. Simon stands at the mattress, reaching behind him he grabs a pocket knife from his vest pocket and slices through the layers of plastic easily. The mattress groans as the springs expand and he easily lifts it to unroll onto the bed frame.
"There you go love," he nods towards the bed and without thinking I launch myself onto it like some sort of Olympic diver. I lay face down spread across the entire bed and relax into the comfort. I moan into the mattress completely forgetting who I am in the company of.
I quickly stand, brushing down my uniform, my face reddening with embarrassment. Simon stares at me like he isn't quite sure what to do with me, his head tilted and his eyes narrowing. Well, it's hard to tell exactly what he's thinking underneath that mask.
"I need to go and scare the villagers, it's a full time job, so I'll see you later? They have made a bit of an effort to welcome you guys with a bit of a slap up dinner, might even crack open the baked beans if you're really lucky. I think it's at about six or something in the main chow hall. There should be a map of the base on the back of the door although it may not have been updated since 1932," he laughs. He moves to his boots, lacing them back up so quickly I will have to ask him how he does that. I struggle for an hour every morning.
Simon walks quickly to the front door and swings it open. Surprise surprise it's still pissing it down outside.
"Oh shit," I huff, looking down realising when I followed him to the front veranda I've stood out the door and straight into a puddle on the wet concrete.
Simon looks down and laughs as I wiggle my toes in the water. It sounds like a real laugh, a chuckle, a sound I'd be privileged to get to hear again.
"Ok I need to get back to work, there are supplies waiting for you in the main building and your stuff should be here on the next shipment in a few hours. You had a fair few boxes, you know this is a military base right?" he laughs again. He eyes seem to brighten as he jokes at my expense, I don't mind it, shows that there is a human underneath all that darkness.
"Yeah, I just had some personal stuff I wanted to have with me, I don't know how long I'll be here so, you know what it's like," I shrug my shoulders, I have no idea how he knows how much stuff I got shipped here and I have no idea why he seems so interested.
"Go shower, you stink," he turns without a goodbye and walks through the darkness and slips through the buildings.
I turn back and step back inside shutting the door and locking it. The cold concrete floor sends chills through me. I think I need a shower before I can handle anything else today. On my way to my living quarters I pass two large radiators. I turn their tap and they groan and rattle as they come to life. Thank God they work - well they might do. At least while I'm showering the place might warm up a fraction. I grab some things for my shower from my sodden bag and discard the other things onto the floor. The shower turns on and the creaky pipes shudder echoing across the infirmary. I've never been more desperate for a shower in my life, Simon wasn't lying when he said I stink. I stand under the hot water letting it wash the past few days worth of grime from me. His laugh replays in my head and I feel desperate for his touch again, it gave me a spark and I've never felt that before. I didn't really think that actually happened in real life. But let's be very realistic here, he's a deadly military sniper, a contract killer, a man who is as formidable as the Devil himself, his reputation most definitely proceeds him and he is just as scary as legend says, he wouldn't be interested in me if I was the only woman on this base. Won't stop me from fantasising about him every night...but that's all it will ever be. That's probably for the best.