#andddd where did all that blood come from? idk. it's probably fine. these guys are normal ^_^

[satanfemme]

id + ego

[were-cheetah-stiles]

The Recruit (Chapter 30) - Mitch Rapp

Author: @were-cheetah-stiles

Title: “Day 106, Part II”

Characters: Mitch Rapp, Stan Hurley, Aiden Breen, Ghost & Reader/OFC

Warnings: Graphic depictions of torture, major character deaths (yes death is plural) andddd idk, just violence and cursing?

Author’s Note: Weirdly enough, this was one of the funnest chapters to write. I love showing the truly cold and clinical and twisted assassin side of the reader. Also, I know I’ve said this before but, in the original form of this story, it is Mitch x OFC, and the original female character’s name is Willa, thus the ‘Willowtree’ nicknames. (and you guys thought those were for nothing...)

Summary: Time is running out when Y/n finally comes face to face with Ghost and learns a shocking truth.

Chapter Twenty-Nine - Chapter Thirty - Chapter Thirty-One

It was dark out, well before the sun was meant to rise, but you could see clearly enough. You glanced behind you as you and Aiden ran down the alley behind the hotel, that was supposed to serve as the team's safe house in Rome. Ghost had very likely always known exactly where you all were, and he had come to collect the other half of the team. You heard a few more shots ring out, echoing against the bricks of the buildings on either side of you, and you ducked behind a large dumpster, your Glock trained between your legs, pointed at the ground, as you squatted next to some large bags of trash. You peeked back around the side, and saw Aiden laying face down on the uneven concrete. 

Your stomach jumped up into your throat as you realized that he was no longer moving. You and Aiden had come to odds at certain points in this specific mission, but you had known him for years, and he was your friend, and now he was most likely dead. The man ran past you with his gun drawn, not realizing you had ducked out of the way when Aiden went down. He circled back around when he figured he had lost you, but you were waiting. You jumped out from behind the dumpster as he leisurely walked past, and hit him on the side of the head, with considerable force, with the butt of your Glock, rendering Ghost's underling unconscious.

You circled the abused man sitting in the metal chair in the center of the room, watching him slightly flinch every time the heel of your boot would connect with the ground and the noise would echo loudly throughout the room. He examined the paraphernalia around the musty space and was confused by what he saw. He watched as you screwed the silencer onto the end of your handgun slowly.

"You know, I was trained to be an assassin for much longer than most... really, for the majority of my life, I've been trained in one way or another to be an asset for my government." You sat in the chair across from Ghost's associate, and smiled, looking eerily relaxed as you rested the side of the gun against your thigh. "One of the things I really excelled at during my training was 'information extraction'.” You made air quotes with your free hand. “My mentor, the man that your boss abducted, he once let me waterboard him for four straight hours....." You snickered and stared down at the gun in your hand. You ran the pads of your fingers on your left hand across the smooth and cold metal. "It was a... a competition, I guess you could say, to see who would yield first." You chuckled a little louder, still stroking your firearm. "I think you can probably guess who won." You finally made eye contact with the man across from your, smiled, and then abruptly lifted your gun and shot the man in his left foot.

The man screamed in agony, knocking the chair backwards onto the cement floor beneath him. You walked around and pulled the chair back upright. You waited for him to finally stop crying in pain, before you spoke again.

“If you tell me where they are, I will stop. It is truly as simple as that. So, what do you say?” You stood at his side and waited, smiling. 

“Fuck you.” He whispered in between pants.

"I'm impressed, really. I've been told how much that hurts, so to not tell me where Ghost has taken my people, is, well, really it's a loyalty that I can respect. But you know what I've heard hurts even more than a bullet hole through the bones of your feet?" You crouched in front of Ghost's associate and smiled, glancing down at the gun in your hands. You pressed the barrel of the gun against his forehead and felt him shake against it in fear. You then quickly aimed it at his right knee and pulled the trigger.

The man screamed even louder than the last shot, and you circled behind him, dragging the hot barrel against the exposed skin on the nape of his neck. He cried out in pain as you continued speaking. "Now, you screamed louder, so I think that that proves that the knee is definitely more painful than the foot. What do you have to say about it?" You smiled directly in his face and he spat at you.

You arched your eyebrows and contorted your mouth, then straightened up. You walked over to the table where your bag was, placed your gun down, pulled a towel out and wiped at your cheek. "I know I shot you twice, but I still think that was the rudest thing anyone has done in this room, this afternoon." You said as your back was turned to the man bleeding in the chair.

"Fuck. You.” He repeated with more emphasis.

You smirked. He spoke again. You were getting to him. "All you have to do is tell me where they are and what Ghost is planning and I'll drive you to the hospital myself. I promise." You told him, as you leaned your butt against the edge of your supply table.

"I'm not telling you shit, bitch. There's nothing you can do that would make me talk."

The corner of your mouth curved upwards and you shook your head. "That's what your friend said before she told me everything I wanted to know." You spoke smugly, and watched his face contort in genuine anger. "Do you want to know what I did to finally get her to talk?"

"It doesn't matter. She was fucking weak. I'm loyal to Ghost." He told you.

"Well, loyalty is fine, really, very honorable. But if you don’t tell me...” You paused, and the corners of your mouth twitched up. “At any rate, I always did love a good challenge." You pulled out a canvas bag, and the man flinched when he heard metal clanking around in it, as you brought it over to the chair across from him. "I excelled in the long run, but at first, I really struggled with the, uh, what did President Bush's administration call it again....? Oh... right." You laughed. "'Enhanced interrogation methods.'" You used air quotes as you discussed torture. "Anyway, I really, I just had such a hard time stomaching the use of 'enhanced interrogation methods', at first, when I was training. But my mentor, he really took me under his wing about it. He wanted me to succeed. He thought that the best way to get me to get over my discomfort in hurting someone else, was to hurt me...” You paused and took in the mood of the man in front of you. He was in agony and your monologue wasn’t helping, but that was all a part of the plan. “I know that may seem cruel or counterproductive, but I’ve gotta tell you, hurting me, really did help." You crouched in front of the man again and laid your left hand flat across his left knee, then ran your fingers up against the inside of his thigh, bringing them back down to rest on the top of his leg. He twitched at your touch. "Do you know how long it took for my nails to grow back?" You held up your hand in the air for both of you to see. "They look good now though, don't you think?" You smiled toothily at him and he looked at you with disgust.

"It doesn't matter what you do to me, I won't tell you a fucking thing."

"See, at least you didn't call me a name this time. Progress." You clapped your hands together, rubbed them a few times, grinned at him, and then unfolded the canvas cloth containing your instruments of torture. You held up a six inch long, thin metal nail and a pair of pliers in your hands. "Now, usually, I'd ask you which you wanna start with first, but considering, I'm afraid that you might pass out from loss of blood before I can get to both fun activities, I'm just gonna have to go ahead and alternate between the two, which sucks by the way, because I really do love consistency." You faked a frown.

"Ghost is going to fucking kill you and your friends." His words echoed throughout the room.

Your demeanor changed at his threat, and you rushed up to the restrained man. You grabbed him hard by the chin, your fingers digging into his fleshy cheeks, and spoke in hushed tones. "You better fucking hope he comes here and does that before I'm done with you, because you will be begging him to kill you too when I'm finished." You stopped smiling and whispered your threats directly into his face.

You pulled the last metal rod out from underneath his remaining fingernails and tucked it back into the canvas bag it came in. You wiped his blood off your hands with a towel and picked up your secure satellite phone. You stared at the passed out man from across the room as the line rang. "He talked, and Director, it's so much worse than we thought."

"Give me the full report, Agent." Irene said on the line.

You opened your laptop on the rickety table and began typing into a secure chatroom. "Not only is he attacking highly populated port cities, but the United States Mediterranean naval fleet has warships stationed in Tel Aviv, Barcelona, and Athens, but Ma'am, the largest fleet is here in Rome." You explained. "You need to get the Polizia di Stato down to Fiumicino to begin sweeping the area for the nuke that's here, and it's up to the government, but Irene, they should really start evacuating the city now."

"If they do that, Ghost may alter the plan and we may lose him again and end up with an even more devastating attack later." Irene weighed the consequences of informing the Italian government of all of the new developments. "What are you going to do while the Polizia are sweeping the airport and the water?"

"He told me where Mitch and Stan are being held. I'm gonna go get them. The best chance we have of stopping this is if all three of us are back in the game." You explained, as you finished your download of information and shut your computer. "Also, you should either call someone or send someone down here to get this guy to a hospital before he actually does bleed out."

"We'll take care of him. Good luck, Agent."

You hung up the phone and closed your laptop, putting them away, stuffed your gun in the back of your jeans, slung your bag over your shoulder and walked out of the basement, leaving the man unconscious and still tied up to the chair. You encountered the man who gave you the room when you came into the building a few hours before. You smiled and tucked your jacket over your gun. You gave a small curtsy, and kissed the gaudy ring on the man's hand. "Grazie mille, Padre. The Director said she would be sending someone over to clean up as soon as she could."

"Go in peace then, my child." The CIA operative posing as a priest said and smiled at you, as you nodded and then walked out of the church and onto the busy and crowded Roman streets.

You left your bag in the car and began jogging through the winding tunnels of the Roman catacombs underneath the city. You thought back on the directions that the man who you had tortured gave you and you made a left turn. Artificial light began to grow brighter up ahead and you picked up your pace; you had found the hideout where Ghost was keeping Mitch and Stan. You breached the room, clearing the corners and making sure that no one was there. You saw only Mitch and Stan, tied to chairs, in the center of the room, both beaten but Stan much worse off.

"Fuck..." You tucked your gun in the back of your jeans, pulled out the switchblade you carried in your boot, and began cutting the zip-ties around Mitch's feet. "Are you okay?" You whispered up at the man you loved, beaten, bloodied, bruised and tied to a chair.

"Y/n, you don't understand what's happening here..." Mitch began, as you cut the last of the multiple clear plastic ties connecting Mitch's legs to the legs of the metal chair he was in.

You interjected before he could finish. "I do know what's going on. Ghost sent someone after Aiden and I, and he killed Aiden, but I got him to talk and I figured out Ghost's entire plan. He's trying to blow u-"

"Y/n, no, you don't understand who Ghost is. Stan has been lying to you."

"Shut the fuck up, Rapp." Stan cut Mitch off. "Untie me, Y/n/n." Stan looked even more badly beaten than Mitch, his left eye barely opened, several of his fingers broken, and tiny cuts and scrapes littered his skin.

"You have to fucking tell her now, Stan." Mitch argued. "Y/n, this was a trap, you shouldn't have come here. Ghost, he-"

"I said shut the fuck up, Rapp. I swear to god, I'll kill you myself." Stan yelled.

"TELL HER." Mitch yelled back. Stan remained quiet and then looked up behind you when he heard another voice come from the hallway.

"Well, if you won't tell her, I will." Ghost appeared in the room, with his gun drawn at you. You grabbed at your gun quickly and pointed it back at the man who you had been hunting for days. "Hey there, Willowtree."

You stepped back and began lowering your gun, your mouth opened slightly and your brow was completely furrowed, as you registered familiar features on Ghost's face. This was the first time you were seeing him up close and suddenly, it hit you like a massive wave. "Oh my god.... Brandon?"

"Long time, no see, little sis. Not exactly how I imagined this reunion. Lower your gun and come give your brother a hug." Ghost smiled the best he could and he held his arms out waiting for an embrace.

You glanced back at Stan, who would not raise his head to make eye contact with you, then you looked at Mitch, who looked pained at what was unfolding in front of him. "I don't understand..." You looked beyond bewildered. "You're supposed to be dead. I went to your funeral.." Your eyes began to fill with tears, as you thought back on the pain and suffering you endured in your childhood when you became an orphan at the age of nine. You shook your head and fought back the tears, but your face became red and hot and the tears streamed down your cheeks anyway. "I watched Mom and Dad bring you to work with them that morning, I watched the footage, there was no way that you could've.... You're not my fucking brother. My brother died with my parents on the 105th floor in the North Tower of the World Trade Center." You stopped crying and raised your gun back up to aim at Ghost's head.

Ghost raised his hands in the air, moving his finger from the trigger to the side of the gun, becoming submissive to your aim. He stepped back and looked at Stan. "If I'm not your brother, then why do you think that Uncle Stan, here, won't look at either of us right now? Think about it, Willowtree. You know that I look like Dad. I know you can see it."

You blinked away more tears, and glanced at Stan, who, in fact, would not make eye contact with anything other than the ground. You lowered your gun again and shook your head. "I don't understand."

Ghost walked over to the chair in the corner, pulled it closer to Mitch, and sat in it backwards, his arms leaning against the top of the back of the chair. He waved his gun and pointed it at Stan, gesticulating like his weapon was an extension of his hand, causing you to train your gun on him again. "Do you want to tell her the story of how we got here, or should I?" Stan scowled at Ghost and shook his head, resolved to remain in his silent state. "Alright, well, good old Uncle Stan here, he is quite the secret-keeper, Willowtree." 

You remained silent, glancing between the three men in the room, unsure of what to do or say. 

"I wasn't up in the Tower when it came down, I was at the deli down the block getting breakfast before Dad was going to take me to school for a conference with my principal." Ghost directed his gaze back at his sister. "You see, Y/n, I was having some troubles at that point... Anyway, good old Uncle Stan, he was my first call as soon as the phone lines began working again. He told me to stay put, and I did, I stayed in that deli until it closed, and the nice man who owned it let me sleep on his couch that night. All night, all I wanted to do was go home and be with my little sister, make sure she was alright, let her know that I was alright, but Stan had other thoughts."

"Don't listen to him, Y/n. He's lying." Stan finally spoke up.

"DON'T TALK TO HER, YOU SON OF A FUCKING BITCH." Ghost lifted his gun to aim at Stan's head, and you raised yours again at him.

"I don't understand what it is that you could have done that Stan wanted to keep you a secret this whole time...." You finally spoke as well, and Ghost lowered his weapon.

Ghost began to pace, rubbing the barrel of his pistol against his temple, clearly agitated and unstable. You took a step towards Mitch, and Ghost turned around quickly, aiming his weapon towards the man you loved. "Don't move, Willow. He's fine. They're both fine. Back up." You did as he said, and backed up from Mitch, staring at the clearly unhinged man in front of you. 

"I'm not fine though. I wasn't fine then either, was I, Uncle Stan?" Ghost asked, seething through his teeth. "You see, I was getting into some trouble back then. Just some parties, nothing major, but I guess that Mom and Dad told Uncle Stan because he saw an opportunity when the entire world, including my BABY SISTER..." He screamed towards Stan, who kept his eyes glued to the ground, scowling as he shook his head. "...thought that I was dead. Stan took me down to The Barn. He wanted to 'straighten me out', he said. 'Give me direction.. a purpose'. But he just saw a kid with some anger who he could mold into a weapon." You lowered your weapon to your side and stared at Stan. You didn't understand any of this. "He promised me so many times that I could come back and see you when I was done with my rehab, then it was when I was done with my training. Training became the Orion program, the Orion Program became my first mission, then my second, then my third, then I realized that he was never going to let me back into your life. I was a Ghost because he wanted me to be."

"It didn't happen like that, Y/n. Please, you have t-" Stan tried to tell his side, but Ghost cut him off again.

"IT HAPPENED EXACTLY LIKE THAT. DON'T LIE. DON'T FUCKING LIE." Ghost walked forward and pressed his gun against Stan's chest.

"You need to step away." You raised your Glock 17M to Ghost's cheek, and he raised his hands and walked backwards until you lowered your firearm again.

"Stan got me abducted and tortured and he never came for me. Him and the Agency, they acted like I never existed. They fucking burned me. I trusted him and he left me for dead. Now I'm going to show the mighty United States government what happens when they mistreat their own. I need to do this and then we can be a family again, you and I, Willowtree." Ghost stared at his younger sister.

You shook your head. "This is insane. You sound insane. You need to let them go, and you need to stop this entire thing before those bombs go off. You're going to kill millions, and for what? Revenge against your uncle? Against the United States government? Stop this.." You stalled in your words. You knew what you would have to say in order to get to him. "Brandon, please. The boy I knew never would've done something like this."

"I can't let them go.” Ghost gestured to Mitch and Stan. “They'll stop it all. But it's okay, Willow. We can be a family again, I just need to take care of them first. Put this one out of the misery of becoming Stan's new 'Ghost'." Ghost pointed his gun at Mitch and you leapt forward, pressing your Glock hard against his temple.

"Step the fuck away from him. Right now."

Ghost stepped back a short length but kept his gun aimed at Mitch. "Well that's a development." He said glancing back and forth between you and Mitch. "We can't move forward until they are out of the way, Y/n. You know that's true." He pulled the safety back on his gun and you fired your gun.

Ghost dropped to the floor, knocking over the empty chair next to Mitch as he fell, clutching his mangled and smoking fingers, and screaming in agony. You had blown a hole right through his hand, a calculated risk to save the love of your life, but not kill the man that you were all but certain was your brother, come back from the dead. "Stay down, Ghost." You said in a raised tone, trying to emit an air of authority.

Ghost cocked his head to the side, and narrowed his eyes, still clutching his hand to his chest. "Ghost? You've been brainwashed too. You'd shoot your own brother to save him? Him?" He pointed at Mitch. "What the fuck is so special about him that you and Stan love so much?!"

"Stop this. Stop all of this, come back and we'll figure this out. If Stan did what you said, we'll figure it out. Please just stay down." You pleaded with Ghost, who was laying on the floor beneath the fury of your firearm.

"He can't come back with us, Y/n." Stan interrupted.

"I can't?! I CAN'T?! See, Y/n? He deserves to die." Ghost sat up, reached behind him with his good hand and pulled a second handgun from the waistband of his trousers, and set to train it on Stan.

You raised your firearm. "Stop."

"I can't." Ghost said, as he pulled back the safety.

A shot rang out through the room and Ghost's body hit the ground with a soft thud. Blood began to pool around the exit wound in his head, on the uneven stone floor underneath his lifeless body. You stood over him for a few moments, the ringing that happens when a firearm is discharged in close quarters, still playing at a deafeningly loud pitch in your ears.

Twenty-Nine <- -> Thirty-One

Sooooooooooooo, what’d you guys think? :D Did I do good with Ghost? This is truly one of my favorite chapters. I hope you enjoyed it. Tell me how uncomfortable you are with that fact that I am making the reader into a ruthless torturing badass. Talk to me, puppies. 

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