Blood in the Sand

(John's POV)

War doesn't end with a bullet. It echoes.

We were two days out from Operation Final Silence, headed toward a debrief location. The Council provided coordinates—middle of nowhere, a desert canyon shaped like a crescent moon. Supposedly secure. Supposedly off-grid.

They lied.

We rolled in on a convoy of two armored SUVs. Nikolai piloted overwatch in a stealth drone overhead. I sat in the lead vehicle with Ghost and Soap, Price trailing with a team of techs in the second rig.

It all felt too smooth. Too quiet.

The road was dry and cracked, flanked by cliffs. My gut twisted. Something was wrong.

I spoke calmly. "Stop the car."

"What?" Soap blinked. "Why?"

Ghost leaned forward. "You feeling something?"

I nodded slowly. "Just… a feeling. Doesn't sit right."

I reached for the emergency brake—but too late.

BOOM!

The explosion ripped through the road, flipping our SUV into the air like a toy. Metal screamed, glass shattered. My ears rang as we slammed sideways into dust and rock.

The second blast hit the SUV behind us. Flames roared. Screams followed.

Bullets tore through the air. Sniper rounds from the cliffs, precise and disciplined. Controlled chaos.

I kicked open the crumpled door and dragged Ghost out, his leg bleeding badly—shrapnel embedded deep.

"MOVE!" I roared, yanking him into cover behind a slab of concrete.

Soap was already returning fire, blood trickling down his face. "Ambush! Snipers—ridge line! Multiple!"

Price's vehicle was on fire, twisted wreckage smoldering.

"Price?" I called out.

No answer. Not yet.

Instinct took over—that second-skin battle sense I'd honed over lifetimes. But I couldn't let them see how inhumanly sharp it was.

I lifted my rifle. Focus. Breathe.

Crack—one sniper down.

I called out like it was luck. "Right ridge! Three incoming with LMGs!"

"Copy!" Soap lobbed a frag. The blast silenced the nest.

"Not a random hit," Ghost grunted, clutching his leg.

"No," I said grimly. "They knew exactly where we'd be."

Nikolai's voice crackled through comms, tense. "You're surrounded. Heavy forces. They're jamming uplinks. You've got five minutes, tops."

"We'll make do."

From the smoke, shadowed figures emerged—sleek, armored, augmented. Not human, not machine. Something worse.

Eteon.

They weren't here for revenge.

They were here to erase us.

"Backline—falling back to cover!" I shouted, disguising my flanking sprint as a tactical call. My body moved faster than should've been possible. I ducked through bullet paths like I'd trained for it.

But I hadn't. Not in this life.

They couldn't know that.

I slid behind wreckage, picked off another pair of augmented freaks with brutal efficiency. One reached for a grenade—too slow. I dropped him with a single round to the head.

Ghost limped closer, eyes narrowing. "How the hell did you see him throw that?"

"Peripheral," I lied. "Caught the glint."

Soap groaned as a round clipped his thigh. "Shit! I'm hit!"

I dropped into the crater beside him, scanned the wound. "Through and through. I'll patch it. Hold still."

Above us, a second squad descended the cliff using magnetic boots.

Price's voice finally crackled through, hoarse and angry. "Still breathing. Lost the arm control. I've got the fallback charges."

"Hold position!" I called. "We'll draw them in!"

"Tell me when."

"Not yet."

I stared down the incoming squad. My mind raced.

Great Sage.

Silence. She always listened.

Give me firing vectors. Make it subtle.

"Understood."

Light flashed behind my eyes, angles calculated. I adjusted my rifle—just a hair.

Crack.

Crack.

Crack.

Three hostiles down. Soap glanced at me.

"Damn, mate… you sure you weren't part of Delta or something?"

I forced a breath. "Something like that."

Behind us, Ghost grunted, dragging himself over to Soap. "Don't bleed out."

"Wasn't the plan," Soap coughed.

I turned to Price. "Blow the fallback charge. Now!"

He didn't hesitate. Claymores sang, then detonated. Fire swallowed the canyon mouth.

Smoke. Screams. Silence.

I moved again—blitzed through the chaos, senses lit by an edge I couldn't explain to anyone. Enemies seemed to slow down. I saw their intentions before they acted. My blade found gaps in armor like I'd studied their schematics.

Ghost saw it happen. "Jesus… You fight like you've seen this before."

"Just instinct," I lied. "Experience."

He didn't question it—but he noticed.

I felt Soap weaken. "He's fading!"

Ghost stumbled trying to pull him up.

I grabbed Soap, hoisted him on my back.

"Price, status?"

"Still kickin'. You?"

"Moving."

I carried Soap down the slope, into a dry riverbed. Price followed, one arm limp, dragging himself behind a rock with a smoking rifle.

We took shelter in a shallow cave—tight, damp, but safe.

I laid Soap down gently. He was barely conscious.

"Hang in there, MacTavish."

Ghost collapsed beside him, his leg wrapped in bloody gauze.

Price leaned against the wall, face smeared with ash and sweat. "They were waiting for us."

"Eteon," I confirmed.

Price exhaled hard. "They're escalating."

"They're scared," Ghost rasped.

"Scared of what?" Soap muttered.

I didn't answer.

Because I knew.

Me.

And I still couldn't tell them.

"They're scared we made it out of the Arctic alive," I said instead. "We're not ghosts to them anymore. We're threats."

"You think it's over?" Ghost asked.

"No," I said. "It's just starting."

Price looked at me. "You read situations faster than anyone I've worked with. That intuition of yours—it's more than gut, isn't it?"

I held his gaze.

"I trained hard."

He stared a moment longer… then nodded once.

"Then we hunt. When we heal."

Hours passed.

Nikolai finally reached us by radio.

"Signal's back. Bird inbound in seven minutes. Thermal cloak engaged. Just hang on."

I looked at the others. Wounded. Weary. Alive.

But questions were growing.

Ghost wouldn't ignore how I moved forever. Price wasn't a fool. Soap may laugh it off, but the looks were starting to linger.

I knew this peace wouldn't last.

But for now?

We were alive.

And I'd keep my secrets—until the world forced me to reveal them.

[To be continued.]