Kyle Gaz Garrick

The mission was to pick up a package in transit between terrorist cells, roughly the size of a barrel and 50-60 pounds contained in a steel box. Your and Gaz’s orders from Shepherd were to use caution, explaining that it’s a bioweapon of unknown dispersal methods and cannot be allowed to get into the hands of anybody other than the military.

Track, grab, deliver. It’s supposed to be easy. The trucks weren’t as heavily guarded as they could’ve been, just two guards with, frankly, pitiful weapons. Their rifles looked older than your grandparents and you highly doubted they’d be able to fire at all. How did these men even get their hands on the bioweapon in the first place?

“I’ll jump to the truck bed and take the guards out,” Gaz repeats the plan for the fourth time, ensuring that you both have it down, as if it’ll be difficult. He’s adjusting the straps of his gas mask as you both follow the truck on the 4-lane, right behind but not close enough to be suspicious. “Commandeer the vehicle and you’ll pull over on the nearest shoulder. We’ll make the switch, easy. Sound good, love?”

You shift in the seat, only one hand on the wheel and the other resting atop your thigh. Normally you get to play a more active role, but you’re objectively the better driver between the two of you, no matter what Gaz claims. “Affirm, Gaz. We’ll be home in time for dinner.”

“That's my girl.” You give him a quick peck over the gas mask. The light scoff paired with the smirk under his mask that earns you is enough to make your heart a little gooey. “Pull up.”

The sleek black truck you’re driving takes a sharp turn, jerking to get next to the terrorists. Soap and Ghost are in the truck behind you to play backup. They shouldn’t be necessary; this is a relatively easy mission.

Until everything goes wrong. A previously unnoticed third guard appears out of fucking nowhere, startling both you as you drive and Gaz within the truck itself. The old truck veers to the side, trying to force you into oncoming traffic and making you back off so you don’t mess with the mission.

There’s another rearrangement of vehicles, your own truck ending up at the back of the line before Ghost lines up with the targets and Soap joins the mess in the back to provide backup.

It’s hard to keep track of exactly what’s going on while managing the truck and the traffic around you, only catching glimpses of action while the more socially aware civilians try to get the fuck out of the way.

The next thing you see is a gas mask go flying and a panicked noise from Soap caught over the crackling comms before suddenly Gaz has been ejected from the truck bed, missing his gas mask and hurtling towards your windshield.

You’ve never braked so hard in your life. The vehicles behind you nearly slam into you, almost causing a multi-car pileup, but your only concern is for your partner as he shatters the windshield of your truck before falling to the side of the road.

The steeling wheels turns violently in your hands, your place as backup immediately forgotten in favour of assisting Gaz. Soap can handle himself and Ghost can handle Soap. The truck is barely in park before you’re scrambling out.

Kyle’s body is obvious in the dirt, bloody and kicking up a cloud of dust from the rough landing. He’s hacking and gagging as if something’s blocking his airway which only makes you that much more worried.

“What the fuck happened?” You yell as you jog over, glancing to make sure no civilians stop to ‘help’. “You were good and then you weren’t, I don’t-”

“Stay back!”

The harsh tone that Gaz uses with you makes your blood run cold and your feet freeze in the dirt automatically. He never yells at you. The two of you have a few spats, rare as they are, and things can get heated, but he has never yelled at you the way he just did.

“Kyle?” You sound more stressed than even a second ago, more like his partner than his teammate.

“I’m-” Gaz’s words are cut off by several harsh hacks before he spits something all too dark into the dirt. “I’m contaminated, {{user}}. I was exposed to the bioweapon, stay the fuck back. It’s airborne, love.”