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socially-awkward-skeleton · 21 days

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All Along the Watchtower (Chapter 17)

[Can also be read on AO3]

Pairing: Captain John Price x Fem!OC (3rd person POV)

Word count: 3.3 K

Warnings: Minors DNI - suggestive dialogue, sexual tension, flirting, smoking, canon typical violence

Summary: Rory and Price enjoy the morning after with one another at the end of their mission, and Rory is given a gift from Laswell to gain some closure from her past

Only one chapter left to go!!

A/N: Rory Sinclair is a dual citizen (both Canada and the UK) who's been living in the UK since she was 14. She is 28 at the time of this fic, Price is 32. This series is set in 2017 before the events of the first MW game. Rory's thoughts are bold and italicized, other italics are used for emphasis

November 3, 2017 07:12 - Al-Hasakah, Syria

Rory sat outside the tent, watching the sun rise above the horizon, streaking the sky in gold and pink. She found herself lost in contemplation, appreciating that certain harmony that came with the morning, and the sense of pride washing over her after successfully completing another op. Reaching up, she tugged on the brim of Price’s boonie hat sitting on her head and adjusted it to keep the sun out of her eyes. Arms wrapped around her knees, she felt the warmth start to kiss her skin and she couldn’t help but grin, her thoughts drifting back to the night before as she placed her cigarette to her lips, the tip of it matching the burning star up above.

A quiet wind rustled what little greenery there was on the sandy overlook, covering the sound of the tent flaps moving as Price exited their humble abode for the night. A low chuckle escaping him at the sight of her in his hat enjoying her morning cigarette. “Mornin’, Sergeant.”

The thick growl of his voice upon first waking up caused a light bubbling laugh to leave her as she exhaled smoke. “Good morning, Captain .”

“Good night last night?” He asked knowingly, a cocky grin on his face as his sure strides brought him to stand by her side. A guardian presence she had welcomed into her life, one that she knew would stop at nothing to keep his promise to her, to keep her safe at all costs, to keep her his .

She hummed and took another drag of cigarette. “Oh, you could certainly say that.”

His warm, rough hand came to rest on the back of her neck, giving it a tender, possessive squeeze. Eyes scanning the surroundings – always at the ready, never truly settling. “Nik’ll be here soon.”

“Suppose I should give you this back then, eh?”

She went to grab the hat from her head to return it to him, but his hand grabbed her wrist, stopping her. His fingers squeezed against her slender wrist, powerful in his grip of her. A strength she got to appreciate while in his arms inside that tent.

“No. Think I like it right where it is. Suits you.”

“You know I am aware of the hat rule, yeah?” Rory sighed, looking up at him with a raised brow.

“That’s just f’cowboys, not soldiers – I’m more of a gentleman than that.” He gave her one of his patented smirks and then sighed contentedly, overly pleased with himself and the previous night’s encounter as he gave a little bounce of his heels and a thrust of his hips.

She couldn’t help but snicker. “Of course you are, darling.”

His eyes darted sideways towards her, catching that very clear use of a pet name from her for the first time, his smirk only getting wider, creeping up his cheeks and crinkling the corners of his eyes. Saying nothing more on the matter, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “My girl,” he purred against her.

Rolling her eyes, she couldn’t help but smile. “Your girl,” she murmured before placing the cigarette back to her lips.

He checked his watch once more and gave her neck another squeeze for good measure. “You stay right where you are, sweetheart, and I’ll pack up.”

“Leaving me forever indebted to you, eh?”

“Somethin’ like that.” Giving her a little nod, and with a twinkle in his eyes, he took an extra moment to look at her and then began to pack up what remained of their campsite.

She turned to watch him work, the flex of his muscles as he took down the tent and the way his brow furrowed, and his lips pursed while he was focused on his task. “Tell me, John, did you have Nik take a little longer this morning to come get us in hopes of getting a little morning delight in?”

Her comment broke his concentration and half-grin curled his lip. “Can’t confirm or deny that, love.”

Rory laughed and butted out her cigarette in the sand beside her. “Truly the man with the plans, aren’t you? Just knew I’d give in eventually, yeah?”

“Everyone’s got their breaking point.”

“Spoken like a man who’s had his SAS interrogation training. All it took was making me feel safe, hmm? Just that extra little push.”

“Little bit of praise went a long way too.”

Rory bit her lip, sucking on her pout, stopping herself from talking back as much as she wanted to. She would only dig a deeper hole and John had her number. “Well, aren’t we quite the pair, I just have to keep impressing you and you’ll give me everything I want.”

“Everythin’ and more, darlin’.”

She could feel the blush slowly creeping up her cheeks, the heat overwhelming her face. Rubbing the back of her neck, the warmth spread there like a memory of his touch even as the cool morning wind blew against her.

“Could have Nik circle and give us another twenty?”

“As tempting an offer as that is, John, I think I’d really rather get back to England and a proper bed.”

His gaze roamed over her, looking her up and down. “Desk duty’s made ya soft,” he teased.

“Didn’t hear any complaints from you last night about me being soft. In fact, I think you really rather enjoyed it.”

That hungry glint in his stare returned once more, eyeing her like a meal. Biting his lip as his scruffy adam’s apple bobbed with a heavy swallow.

“Are you going to continue staring at me like that, or are you going to pack up as was promised?” She stood and her hands came to rest on her hips, brow cocked, once more standing up to him.

“Stop lookin’ so goddamn temptin’ then.”

“Or you could simply control yourself, Captain .”

He growled low in his throat, returning to the task he had been working on prior, shifting the weight he carried on his hips, clearly readjusting himself.

“And I’ll continue to ogle you like you’re a handsome workman and I’m a rich heiress.”

Steely powder blue eyes shot back towards her. Rory already knew he was going to get her back for that later and she couldn’t help but laugh.

Scoffing, he shook his head. “Already fantasizin’ ‘bout me, yeah?”

“You’re a man who has clearly never skipped leg day, I’m merely appreciating the view while you bend and lift. Besides, I'm your girl now, aren’t I allowed to do that about my man?”

Moving to her side, his voice was a rumble as his hand came to her chin, tipping back her head to look up at him, his thumb rubbing over her lower lip still kiss-bruised from the previous night. “Oh, that you most certainly are.” He snatched the hat from her head and put it back onto his, leaning down to whisper in her ear, his voice low and hoarse. “Gonna get you back for being a bloody tease, though.”

A cheeky grin spread across her lips, mischief in her eyes. “I look forward to it.”

“Just you wait…” The danger returned to his stare, leaving her with an open-ended statement that was either a promise or a threat. His breath fanned over her as his lips slowly lowered to hers, capturing her in a kiss.

The sound of a helicopter’s rotor spinning thundered in the sky, traveling across the sprawling desert below to reach them. A black speck in the sky, moving towards them and the two lovers parted as Price finally finished packing up with Rory’s help.

Within minutes, Nikolai’s helicopter hand landed and tossing their bags inside, Price and Rory boarded the aircraft. Looking back from his seat, Nikolai scrutinized his two passengers through his dark sunglasses. After a moment, he spoke, “Captain, you look… relaxed .”

Price snickered as Rory gave a heavy sigh, moving to shut the door behind them. “Feel it too, Nik.” He looked over at her and smirked, giving her a little wink as he flexed his broad shoulders.

Rory’s cheeks burned with a hot flush, turning bright red. Refusing to make eye contact with the Russian pilot or Price, she took a seat in the back while he sat up front with Nikolai.

The mobile in Price’s pocket began to ring, breaking the sound of the helicopter’s engine that filled the cabin. Slipping it from his pocket, he answered it quickly. “Laswell.”

“ Congratulations on the successful mission. I assume you’re on the way back ?”

“Just took off.”

“ I need a word with the Sergeant .”

“Rory,” he called her over, raising his voice above the din.

Making her way to the front, she took the phone from him. Holding onto the back of his seat to settle herself as she spoke with the CIA Station Chief. “Laswell.”

“ Looked into Walker’s reports, thought you might be interested in something, Sergeant .”

Rory hummed, “What would that be?”

“ The location of one Abdullah Al Ghulam .”

Her stare darkened. She ached for the day when she would never have to hear that name again. “Where is he?”

“ Under protection in Dubai, has a charming little penthouse suite with his wife .”

Her jaw clenched tightly, and she spoke through gritted teeth, “Wouldn’t happen to have that address, would you now?”

“ I would .”

Fingers tapping on the leather of the headrest, her grip slowly tightened on the seat, indenting the crescents of her nails into the material as her stomach twisted. This could be the final closure she needed, dealing with the one that got away. “Thank you, Laswell.”

“ You did good work, it’s the least I can do .”

November 6, 2017 11:17 - Dubai, UAE

Traffic raced back and forth, luxury vehicles everywhere the eye could see driving along palm tree lined roads. Buildings of glass stretched up towards the bright blue sky above, reflecting the sunlight back into the marina, shimmering on the aquamarine rippling water. In a quiet cafe on the corner of the promenade, Rory sat at one of the tables under the shade of a white linen umbrella, flapping in the breeze and letting diffused dappled light through to dance on the glass tabletop.

Watching the traffic and people stream by, she sat back in her chair, the shemagh tucked over her hair fluttering in the warm breeze at her back. Hazel eyes surveyed the crowds as she brought the cup of freshly brewed chai to her lips and sipped, decorated china tinkling as she returned the cup to its saucer, listening to the voice in her ear.

“ Target’s just arrived on site .” Laswell’s voice came in clear through the earpiece. “ Ready to go when you are, Sergeant .”

“Copy.”

Sipping the last of her tea, she slid the cup and saucer away from her along with a few notes of Dirham for a tip. Reaching to the side of her chair, she lifted the handle of her small, hard bodied luggage case and stood up, dragging it behind her as she carried on down the promenade towards a sky-scraping hotel.

With marble floors, fountains, and art adorning its interior, the hotel was clearly a place for only the wealthiest elite of tourists and travelers. Dressed as anything but a soldier, wearing designer fashion straight from the pages of Vogue, Rory moved through the scattered guests as if she belonged there and immediately made her way to the elevators, by-passing the front desk completely. Entering along with a group of several other guests, she happily took a spot in the back corner and quietly stood there, blending in as the other guests got off at their respective floors. Unassuming as always, they’d forget her as much as they would what they had for breakfast that day.

Riding up floor after seemingly never-ending floor, she reached the very top and moved carefully through the halls until she found the roof access door. Climbing up another flight of stairs, carrying the case in her hand, she bypassed the lock on the exterior door and pushed it open. That much closer to the sun, surrounded by glass like an ant under a magnifying glass, the heat became almost unbearable, but she was willing to suffer whatever was necessary to see this through. She was so close, her trigger finger itching. Justice was in her grasp, it would never resolve the horrors in her head or the things his victims went through, but God, would it make everything that happened seem a little more worthwhile. Al Ghulam wouldn’t be another cruel man getting away with his monstrous acts because of money, power, or networking. Nor would he be serving out some pathetic sentence in more comfort than the average person had. He would be taken care of, a stain cleaned, scraped off like gum stuck on the sole of her shoe.

Crouching down to take a spot behind the cement wall that bordered the roof for cover, she unclicked the latches of her luggage and flipped open the lid to reveal the spongy foam interior gently cradling the parts of her rifle, her scope and her rounds of ammo. Dexterous hands slotted everything together with ease, long fingers twisting the barrel on and cleaning the scope before attaching it. Giving her weapon one last appraising check, she glanced over the barrier wall at the soaring tower of condos across from her, the penthouse suite within her sight line.

“ Are you in position? ” Laswell asked.

“Affirm. Exfil on standby?”

“ Ready and waiting .”

“Copy. I’ll be down shortly.” Rory slipped on her dark aviators and placed her rifle on the wall, placing her arm under the stock for stability and aimed through the scope to line up her shot.

Behind glass that reflected the beating sun in a flare back at her, Al Ghulam paced back and forth inside his suite with a cellphone to his ear. Completely unaware. Living in luxury a man like him should never have been afforded after the way he had treated countless people. Safe for all this time, but no longer. The wolf was ready to snap her jaws around her prey.

Taking a deep breath, she listened to the whistle of the wind, the low roaring past her ears as her head covering started to whip about, the airspeed faster with her elevation and little protection around her. Rory’s hand trembled the longer she watched him through her scope, anger building inside her, her blood heated in her veins as it rushed in her ears. Tightening her hand into a fist, she clenched her fingers tightly, letting her nails dig into the flesh of her palm. Letting all the rage and the guilt flow through her, having had it fester inside for long enough, she wanted to feel that pain now, to accept it, as her therapist had told her to do as part of overcoming her trauma. It would be a long road; this was just a single step – one that might help her sleep a little better at night.

With her finger placed on the trigger, she took one last deep breath and waited for that perfect moment. Passing by the window, Al Ghulam paused his pacing, and appeared heated as he continued speaking on the phone. Hands shifting and moving wildly.

Inhale . Holding the breath prisoner in her lungs, she squeezed the trigger. The bullet whizzed through the air, and within a second glass cracked and shattered, popping like a champagne bottle. The entrance wound. The exit wound stained the carpet below Al Ghulam in red as his body hit the ground, dead instantly, his eyes still open and with a hole left between them.

Exhale . A slow stream of breath passed over her lip as her lungs finally cleared the stale air inside them. It was over. Done and dealt with. Her hands wiped clean of a burden that she had carried with her. A failure she wasn’t sure she could ever forget, but at the very least she might be able to forgive herself for one day.

Wiping her brow of the beads of sweat that had formed there, she started to take apart her rifle, piece by piece. “Got a tap on who he was chatting with?”

“ His wife ,” Laswell replied.

Rory hummed. “That’s a pity.”

Placing each piece of her weapon neatly back into her luggage so it sat snug and safe, she treated it more like a child or a prized possession. It was her skill with the weapon that got her attached to working CIA black missions in Iraq to begin with, it was the reason she had ever been in contact with someone like Al Ghulam, and for all the nightmares it brought her, her accuracy with her rifle was still something she was proud of. The lives she had taken, the blood spilled, it all felt worth it in that moment.

Following the same route out of the hotel, she gave no one any doubt of her reason for being there. Watchful eyes didn’t land on her, security didn’t stop her strut out of the foyer. As far as anyone needed to be concerned, she was a guest – nothing more. One with a trail of blood and bodies that followed in her wake.

Upon exiting the building, a black luxury SUV with tinted windows pulled up. The back door opened immediately, and without question Rory stepped inside, taking her seat across from Laswell. The Station Chief had that same serious, no nonsense look about her she had had during their first meeting at Stirling Lines, even if this was an off the books assignment gifted to the Sergeant, Laswell was still all business.

“Good work out there, Sinclair.”

Giving a little nod of the head, Rory crossed her legs and sat back in the plush leather row of seats, appearing far more relaxed than during their first meeting. “I appreciate you giving me this opportunity.”

“He was a threat that needed to be dealt with.” Laswell picked up the tablet from the spot beside her and passed it to Rory. “Now you can focus on bigger fish.”

“Al Qatala?”

“Al Qatala.”

The tablet contained several confidential files and photos from recon, including one of the leader of the terrorist group. Her brow furrowed as she stared down at the screen, taking in her newest enemy’s appearance. “Who’s this?”

“Calls himself ‘The Wolf’.” Rory’s hardened gaze lifted to meet Laswell’s. “I figured you wouldn’t like that name much.”

“He’s the one in charge?”

Laswell nodded and continued, “AQ represents a threat to any and all western powers in the region. After twenty years of civil war in Urzikstan, they appear to want to strike back. Get even.”

Rory chewed her lip as she scanned through the rest of the files, flicking her finger over the screen. “Can’t have that, can we?” she muttered, knowing full well that despite being the enemy they likely had every right to want to take their country back for themselves.

“Glad we’re in agreement.”

“I assume he’s my primary interest going forward when I return to Stirling Lines?”

“You already work anti-terrorism in conjunction with MI6, you’ll be my go between. I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine.”

“You trust me with this?” Rory lifted her brow skeptically, apprehensive about the deal being made with yet another member of the CIA.

“I do. Which says a lot, considering our line of work.” Pausing, Laswell added, “Also means you’ll be working closely with John.”

Lifting her eyes, she could pinpoint the nearly imperceptible smirk that pulled at Laswell’s mouth. She knew Kate was dangerous, that she would figure it out, never having even needed to be told.

“He speaks highly of you. He likes working with people he trusts, and if he trusts you then I can as well.”

“Having blackmail over our careers probably helps to get things done as well, yeah?” Rory smirked back, understanding Laswell’s motives clearly.

“Whatever it takes.”

Huffing out a laugh, she pulled the shemagh from her shoulders and ran her fingers through her hair, brushing through the short, tousled waves. “Whatever it takes.”

#call of duty #fan fiction #cod fanfic #john price #john price x oc #oc: rory sinclair #fic: all along the watchtower #chapter 17

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divinum-pacis · 1 month

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March 2024: Syrian Kurds march with torches during the celebration of Nowruz, the Persian New Year, in the Kurdish-majority city of Qamishli in Syria's northeastern Hasakah province. [Delil Souleiman/AFP]

#religion #kurds #kurdish #people #nowruz #syria #divinum-pacis

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zvaigzdelasas · 7 months

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5 Oct 23

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humanrightsupdates · 6 months

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The Full Costs of Turkey’s Bombing Campaign in Northeast Syria

Rakza Salih Fawaz, 50, and her 14-year-old daughter, Farah Adnan Ramdan, were among a group of 30 daily laborers toiling away in cotton field on October 9 near the village of Bcheïrîyé in northeast Syria.

“Around 10 in the morning, something struck my head,” said Rakza.

“I heard Farah screaming about losing her leg. I attempted to reach her, but I collapsed.”

They were rushed to a hospital in al-Hasakah by their fellow workers. She told Human Rights Watch that there were no fighters or military presence at the farm, just daily workers trying to make ends meet.

Rakza and Farah are among the many victims of Turkey’s aerial bombardment of northeast Syria. In a recent report, Human Rights Watch documented how Turkey’s aerial bombardment of northeast Syria has caused damage to critical infrastructure across the region. But beyond this, some civilians – like Rakza and Farah - have paid the price of Turkish strikes in life and limb.

Between October 5 and 10, 2023, Turkish drone strikes on Kurdish-held areas of northeast Syria killed at least 11 civilians and injured many more, according to the Rojava Information Center, a volunteer media and research organization in northeast Syria.

#turkey #syria #human rights watch

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heyvasorakurdistane · 6 months

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Bi hêviya ku şahî vegere dilê Fereh a biçûk

hedefgirtina herêmên sivîl pirê caran dibe encama gelek windahî û birîndariyên giran di nava sivîlan de û piştî topbarana bêserûber ji aliyê dewleta Tirk ve li dijî binsazî û herêmên sivîl ên Bakur û Rojhilatê Sûriyê di 4 -10 - 2023'an de ku çend rojan dewam kir, gelek qurbanî û birîndar bûn, yek ji wan jî Fereh a çardeh salî bû ku ji gundê xwe El-Xeybiş ê girêdayî Til Temîrê tevî dê û bavên xwe koçber bûn dema bajarê Serêkaniyê hate dagirkirin, û ew herêm dihat topebaran kirin.

Careke din toparan pey wê ket dema wê li gundê El-Bişêrya ê girêdayî bajarê Dirbêsiyê alîkarya dayika xwe di komkirina pembo de dikir rokêtek di 5-10-2023an de li wan ket û di encamê de herdû lingên xwe winda kir .

Ferah ji milê tîma rewşên awarte û lezgîn ve ya Heyva Sor a Kurd li Dirbêsiyê hat rakirin ji nexweşxaneyekê re li bajarê Hesekê û tîmeke bijîşkî girêdayî Heyva Sor a Kurd ku ji bijîşkê hestî , fizyoterapist û ekîbeke piştgrya derûnî pêk tê hate erkdarkirin ku rewşa tedawî kirina wê bişopînin û piştevaniya wê bikin heta avakirina protezên jêrîn ji bo wê û bi hêviya ku şahî vegere dilê Fereh

على أمل أن تعود الفرحة إلى قلب فرح الصغيرة

عادةً ما يؤدي استهداف المناطق المكتظة بالسكان إلى سقوط العديد من الضحايا وإصابات بليغة بين المدنيين، وبعد القصف العشوائي الذي تعرضت له المرافق الحيوية والمناطق المدنية في شمال وشرق سوريا من قبل الدولة التركية في 4 أيار 2023 والذي استمر لعدة أيام، خلف العديد من الضحايا والجرحى وكان من بينهم الطفلة فرح البالغة من العمر أربعة عشر عاماً، والتي نزحت من قريتها الغيبش بريف تل تمر مع والديها عند احتلال مدينة سري كانيه بسبب القصف العشوائي في تلك المنطقة.

ليلاحقها القصف مجددا وهي تساعد والدتها في قطف القطن في قرية البشيرية في ريف الدرباسية حيث فقدت ساقيها جراء قذيفة سقطت عليهم في 5 أيار 2023.

تم اسعاف فرح من قبل فريق الطوارئ والاسعاف التابع للهلال الأحمر الكردي في الدرباسية إلى أحد المشافي في الحسكة، وتم تكليف فريق طبي تابع للهلال الأحمر الكردي مكون من طبيب جراحة عظمية وأخصائي علاج فيزيائي وفريق دعم نفسي لتبني رحلة علاجها و دعمها وتأهيلها حتى تركيب اطراف صناعية سفلية لها على أمل أن تعود الفرحة إلى قلب فرح الصغيرة..

In the hope that joy will return to little Farah's heart.

Usually, targeting densely populated areas leads to numerous casualties and serious injuries among civilians. After the indiscriminate shelling of vital facilities and civilian areas in northern and eastern Syria by the Turkish state on May 4, 2023, which lasted for several days, it left many dead and wounded, including 14-year-old Farah. She was displaced from her village of Al-Ghabish in the countryside of Tel Tamr with her parents during the occupation of the city of Serekaniye due to indiscriminate shelling in that area.

The bombing continued to haunt her as she helped her mother pick cotton in the village of Al-Bashiriyah in the countryside of Al-Dirbasiyah, where she lost her legs due to a shell that fell on them on May 5, 2023.

Farah was treated by the emergency and ambulance team of the Kurdish Red Crescent in Al-Dirbasiyah and was transferred to a hospital in Hasakah. A medical team consisting of an orthopedic surgeon, a physiotherapist, and a psychological support team from the Kurdish Red Crescent was assigned to take care of her treatment, support, and rehabilitation until she receives lower limb prosthetics in the hope that joy will return to little Farah's heart.

#kurdistan #heyvasor #heyvasorakurdistan #kurd #kurdi #rojava

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dougielombax · 5 months

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Rip in shit!

They’ve gotten a lot of these assholes lately.

#dougie rambles #news #political crap #syria #syrian civil war #rojava #north and east Syria #fuck isis #asayiş #SDF #Syrian democratic forces #anti fascism #leftism #assyria #bethnahrin #hasakah #kurdistan #reblog this #reblog the shit out of this

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ritchiepage2001newaccount · 8 months

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#CorpMedia #Idiocracy #Oligarchs #MegaBanks vs #Union #Occupy #NoDAPL #BLM #SDF #DACA #MeToo #Humanity #DemExit #FeelTheBern

#JinJiyanAzadi #BijiRojava Syriac Christian women take up Kalashnikovs to fight Islamic State [UPDATES]

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2015/dec/13/syriac-christian-women-militia-fight-islamic-state

Newly formed battalion of 50 women sees first major action fighting with coalition of forces to overtake strategic town of Hol...

RELATED UPDATE: ‘Female Protection Forces of the Land Between Two Rivers’: All-female Syrian Christian fighters take on Isis

RELATED UPDATE: 'Man, She's Pretty': Behind Syrian Rebels' Gruesome Murder of a Female Kurdish Fighter

https://www.haaretz.com/middle-east-news/syria/2018-02-08/ty-article/syrian-rebels-celebrate-gruesome-murder-of-female-kurdish-fighter/0000017f-dbb3-d3a5-af7f-fbbf56770000?lts=1694053875725

RELATED UPDATE: Martyrs never die - “Do not stand at my grave and cry; While Rojava lives, I did not die.”

RELATED UPDATE: Meet The Fighting Bethnahrin Women of Syria

RELATED UPDATE: Meet the women with guns who fought Isil in Syria - and are now battling its patriarchy

RELATED UPDATE: [Women’s Voices] Bethnahrin Women Protection Forces – HSNB

RELATED UPDATE: Syriac Women Protection Forces complete military training

RELATED UPDATE: All-female Syriac Christian fighting force in Syria celebrates 5th anniversary

FURTHER READING:

#CorpMedia #Idiocracy #Oligarchs #MegaBanks vs #Union #Occupy #NoDAPL #BLM #SDF #DACA #MeToo #Humanity #DemExit #FeelTheBern #JinJiyanAzadi #BijiRojava

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sanjanaopstech · 4 months

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Mist Cooling & Fogging System Company in Syria

#Mist Cooling System in Syria #Fogging System in Syria #Mist Cooling System Company in Syria #Fogging System Company in Syria #Mist Cooling System in Damascus #Fogging System in Damascus #Mist Cooling System Company in Damascus #Fogging System Company in Damascus #Mist Cooling System in Homs #Fogging System in Homs #Mist Cooling System Company in Homs #Fogging System Company in Homs #Mist Cooling System in Daraa #Fogging System in Daraa #Mist Cooling System Company in Daraa #Fogging System Company in Daraa #Mist Cooling System in Al Hasakah #Fogging System in Al Hasakah #Mist Cooling System Company in Al Hasakah #Fogging System Company in Al Hasakah #Mist Cooling System in Latakia #Fogging System in Latakia #Mist Cooling System Company in Latakia #Fogging System Company in Latakia #https://mistcoolingsystemindia.com/mistcooling-system-in-syria

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workersolidarity · 6 months

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[Resistance rocket falls on Tel Aviv after a failure of the Iron Dome air defense system]

🇵🇸🇮🇱 🚨

💥AXIS OF RESISTANCE UPDATES:💥

al-Qassam Brigades:

We trapped the forces penetrating east of Khan Yunis in a tight ambush after targeting them with al-Yassin 105mm shells, heavy sniper weapons, medium-power weapons, and mortar shells- we've destroyed 10 Zionist tanks penetrating in various areas of Gaza with Yassin 105mm rockets at a distance, killing a number of Zionist soldiers.

Near the Northwest of Gaza, the enemy forces penetrating east of Juhr al-Dik were targeted using heavy-caliber mortar shells, we bombed a gathering of vehicles headed west of Erez.

Concentrations of enemy forces were bombarded in the Muftahim complex with a missile salvo.

The enemy forces penetrating into the northwest and southwest axis of Gaza were bombed using dozens of shells and mortars. Bombing the base of Ra'im, Sderot, Beersheba and Tel Aviv with a missile barrage.

al-Quds Brigades:

We clash with Zionist forces penetrating the al-Farahin area east of Khan Yunis we clash with them with the appropriate weapons.

We are targeting a gathering of enemy vehicles penetrating the al-Karama area in the northwestern axis of Gaza with a large of heavy caliber mortar shells.

Nirim, "third eye", Soufa, and Nir' ishaq bombard "Aviv Shalom" with concentrated missile salvos, they destroy the Mars military site with a number of mortar shells .

Islamic Resistance in Lebanon:

We targeted an ambush for Zionist enemy forces inside one of the houses of the Metulla settlement and investigated. There are confirmed casualties- the Avivim barracks and the Jal al-Deir site are targeted with guided missiles, rockets and other appropriate weapons.

We targeted the Miskaf general site with guided missiles and other appropriate weapons and destroyed a section of the site and its technical equipment.

We're targeting a military vehicle belonging to the enemy army. The Zionist forces fired missiles at the Bayad Blida site and its crew was killed or wounded. We are targeting a gathering of Zionist occupation forces at the Bayad Blida site, where they recorded confirmed casualties.

The al-Dhahira site was targeted with missiles and artillery fire, causing confirmed casualties.

The Kiryat Shmona settlement was bombed with a number of Grad (Katyusha) rockets.

The Islamic Resistance in Iraq:

We are targeting the American occupation base Tel Baidar, west of the Syrian city of al-Hasakah by drone, recording a direct hit. 🔥

@WorkerSolidarityNews

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socially-awkward-skeleton · 23 days

Text

All Along the Watchtower (Chapter 15)

[Can also be read on AO3]

Pairing: Captain John Price x Fem!OC (3rd person POV)

Word count: 2.8 K

Warnings: Minors DNI - suggestive dialogue, mild angst, flirting, ship's first real kiss, smoking

Summary: The mission is over, and Price and Rory have time alone together at camp

*This is the chapter where the ship finally really and truly kicks off. It does have a fade to black ending as the next chapter is entirely smut and not really necessary for story purposes so if you want to skip the next chapter it's an option*

November 2, 2017 21:18 - Al-Hasakah, Syria

With the outpost removed and the intel in Laswell’s hands, a makeshift campsite had been set up on the outskirts overlooking the desert. A small fire burning for warmth while the stars shone above in the midnight blue sky – tranquil, despite there being a warzone still raging miles away. Sitting in the sand, Rory ate her ration pack of lamb stew as she watched Price pace back and forth several feet away, confirming plans on his phone for the next steps now that the mission was coming to a close, zoning out to the sway of his hips as he walked.

Slipping his phone into the pocket of his tac pants, he moved back to sit near the fire and start in on his own dinner. Her eyes fell away from him and instead turned to the flames that flickered in front of her as he settled in the sand beside her.

“Nik'll be here in the mornin’, has to refuel and tune up before he can head out.”

She hummed, poking her spork around in the gray plastic pouch of her ORP. “I'm sure that wasn't a suggestion from the good Captain at all, was it?” Her eyes flicked up to look at him, a teasing little smirk pulling up the corner of her mouth, the flames of the fire of their camp illuminating the amber flecks in her eyes.

“You think it's my intent to keep you all to myself, Sergeant? Just what are you trying to imply?” The predatory edge to his eyes and tone were near explicit.

“Do you think I'm daft, John?”

He shook his head and laughed, tearing open the heated packet of steak and vegetables. “Oh no, quite the opposite. I think you're too smart for your own good. I think if you had enough time, you could read me like a book.”

He wasn’t far off in his estimate, with the training she had as an interrogator she likely could. However, she would also be having to combat a hardened veteran with sixteen years of experience under his belt and who was trained to resist interrogation methods of all kinds. He had already proven to have a look in his eyes that was impenetrable at most times. For all she knew, it would be a stalemate.

“Given enough practice I probably could.”

“No probably about it, sweetheart. I also get the feeling that if it came down to it you could beat me in any argument – as long as I don't pull rank.” He looked up from the contents of his packet and she was once again met by that stare she had caught in her scope - that hungry, feral one.

“That's a given. I'm a barrister's daughter, after all. If I hadn't gone the military route my father was sure I'd make a good one and follow in his footsteps.”

“Why didn't you?”

She scoffed. “Life.”

“Meaning?”

There was a side to John that she had been given just a taste of, the one who used whatever tools he could get his hands on to reach his objective, and in this case, the little alarm bell in the back of her head went off. How much of that was her own trust issues she couldn’t be sure, but giving him too much knowledge about her did put her a little on edge even if he only intended to keep her safe – everything was a weapon to Captain Price.

“What? You want my life story?” Her eyes narrowed, challenging him just enough. “Is this our first date?” she asked, lifting the MRE packet. “Really splurged on dinner.”

He chuckled at her sarcastic comment and lit a cigar. “Go on,” he said softly, his voice a hoarse murmur on the wind.

“You really want to know?”

“I do.”

She rolled her eyes and put the MRE packet down grabbing her pack of cigarettes and lighting one, taking a long drag before exhaling the smoke into the night with a long stream of breath. “It's rather convoluted, but – in short form – after my mother’s death, I had to leave Canada, leave the life I'd known behind and move to England to live with my father. I was fourteen – angry, grieving – and I was plunked in the house of a man who I only really knew through conversations over the phone and the few summer trips I had across the pond. He wasn't exactly ready for the challenge of raising a hormonal teenage girl… we were both thrown in the deep end of the pool together, quite frankly.” She shook her head at the insanity of the situation she had lived through. “Poor sod getting lumped with me.” She laughed and took another drag of her cigarette, leaving a pregnant pause in her story. “Needless to say, I acted out, rebelled. Skipped school, let my grades fail – I barely graduated. Didn't leave me with many options, so I chose the military.”

“Didn’t do too bad f’ yourself though, did ya?”

“I suppose, other than hefty amounts of trauma,” she snickered at her own comment.

“Can’t be all bad.”

“No, no I suppose not. Joining the army did have its perks, this is true.”

“Got to meet me twice because of it.”

A loud burst of laughter came out of her. “Ah, yes, the highlight of my ten-year career. Not receiving the King’s Medal for Bravery as a corporal – spending time with John Price.”

He smiled around the cigar in his mouth, the lines around his eyes creasing softly. “You were awarded a medal as a corporal ?”

“Yeah…”

His brows lifted, giving a little nod, clearly impressed by her history. “Not too many people receive one of those.”

“No, not too many at all,” she said with a quiet sort of pride.

Humming appreciatively, smoke blew from his nostrils. “You still owe me that number of confirmed kills, darlin’.”

“I did promise you that, didn’t I?”

“You did.”

“Thirty three high profile targets. Other soldiers and snipers?” She paused to hum and haw over the numbers. “Lost count around the mid seventies, and that was two years ago.”

“ Jesus ,” he breathed, giving a low groan. “Fucking hell, Rory.” Taking another drag of his cigar as if it were post coitus.

She giggled at his reaction, the obvious tone of arousal at her competency not lost on her. “Careful, John. Don't want to be popping a stiffy.”

His piercing gaze flicked up to settle on her and her teasing grin, a wolfish curl to the side of his mouth slowly growing. “Can't have that, can we? Wouldn't be proper of an officer.”

“Certainly not. Especially not while we're out here, alone , in the dark, with nothing but a pup tent to share.”

Brow lifted, a cocky self-assured smirk grew on his face. “Who knows what might happen.”

Rory licked her lips and tutted her tongue, still pretending as though she wasn't interested, or rather, playing hard to get. She had to admit she had been enjoying this chase of theirs and Price had certainly been persistent as had been promised – ever the hunter, and her the beast waiting for that right moment to strike. “How ever will we fill the time?”

“I can think of a few things,” he purred.

“I bet you can.”

“Mission’s nearly over, darlin’. Don’t need to worry about being a distraction for me anymore, yeah?”

Leaning towards him, she lowered her voice until it was smooth and sultry. “And you think I’m just going to give in like that?”

“Still want me to try and persuade you, eh?”

“I’m still trying to figure out just what it is about me you actually want?” Her warm hazel eyes lifted to take in those unreadable gray-blue ones that looked back at her. Pushing the challenge just a little bit further, prodding him towards showing her just a little of his own vulnerability.

“I want you for all sorts of reasons.” He gave nothing away.

Her brow cocked, wanting more detail. “Is that so?”

“Don’t think I’ve ever been so interested in another woman before.” His voice grew huskier the longer the discussion went on, body leaning closer to her.

“Is that right?”

“It is.”

“And what makes me so different?”

“ Everything ,” he said in a deep growl. “You’re a bloody challenge, first and foremost – and you were certainly right about me liking that.”

She paused, letting the closeness between them settle before pushing further, deeper into dangerous territory. Her eyes narrowed, lingering on his features, reading him. “ If I were to let you have me as your girl, would I be just another accolade to your name, John?”

Smirking, he pulled back slightly, understanding where the game was heading between them. “There’s no denyin’ the fact that any man would consider havin’ you as their girl an honor. However , if you’re askin’ if I’d see you as just another notch in the belt, then you’ve got me all wrong, darlin’.”

“So you see me as someone worth going for the long haul with?”

“You bet your arse.”

Chuckling quietly at his expected response, she kept digging. “And you really do just want to take care of me?”

“Always.” His face became serious. All playful, flirtatious intent wiped clean from it. On this he was absolute. The final decision was made up in his mind and he would not be dissuaded. That point was no game for him.

Her smile faded as reality hit once more. Nothing could be that simple, not for them, not with the rules and regulations of the military. “I wish it was that easy.”

“It doesn't have to be as bloody hard as you’re makin’ it.”

“It does.” She scoffed, “We can’t just bury our heads in the sand over this, pretend that we aren’t breaking rules here – because we are. You have so much more to lose over this than I do.” Sighing, her voice was barely an audible whisper above the night wind. “I don’t want to be something you live to regret.”

His brow furrowed, mouth flinching as he clenched his jaw. “Never gonna happen, love. Never . Fell f’you like a goddamn idiot.”

Rory giggled, covering her mouth as jovial bursts of laughter coming in fits and starts carried across the desert at night.

“It’s not funny,” he chuckled, eyes crinkling at her reaction to his confession.

Dragging her hand down her face, she tried to hide the embarrassment they both seemed to be feeling and gazed at him. “I’m sorry,” saying it as genuinely as she could between the little bubbles of laughter that still crept up out of her.

“You’re a filthy liar.” Shaking his head, his smirk was still plastered to his face.

Looking at one another, the firelight flickered across from them, warming their skin as much as the laughter and their close proximity was. Silence fell. Their eyes locked. Heart racing in her chest, Rory’s lips seemed to part instinctively as her breath caught in her throat, not realizing she was even holding it.

John’s gaze roamed down to her mouth, freezing there as she watched his tongue drag across his lips. Throat bobbing with a heavy swallow, his pupils dilated making his steely eyes darker than the night sky above. Biting the inside of his lower lip, he stared at her hungrily. It was clear he was debating his next move. Jaw tensing, the tendons flexing, his hand lifted to scratch at the underside of it as his brow furrowed.

Nocturnal animals squawked, screamed and chattered out in the darkness that surrounded them. They were completely alone out here. No witnesses, no mission. Just them .

Moving closer, he leaned a little further towards her, the distance between them disappearing quickly until she was moments away from being wrapped around him. The tips of their noses brushed against the other’s, his breath fanning on her lips, the cigar smoke heavy on her nostrils. The heady, bitter scent of tobacco made her bite her lip. Her eyes firmly locked on his, she tried to perceive what his next move was before he did.

Brushing the hair back that the wind blew into her face, his fingers traveled through her waves as his hand came to rest on the curve of her jaw, thumb stroking at her cheekbone thoughtfully. No words needed to be spoken, enough already had. Just like in a fight, they seemed to know what the next move needed to be before it was even said. Synchronicity .

Mouth meeting hers, his grip firm, the kiss was passionate and deep. Weeks’ worth of need boiled down into one moment. All that arguing, the bickering, the back and forth, it all had to have been for something and he seemed to be making damn sure that it did as his lips claimed hers. Pulling her in tighter towards him, his hand shifted to lock up into a fistful of her hair at the back of her head. His other arm wrapped around her back, pulling her right up against him as his fingers found themselves sliding underneath the hem of her shirt, caressing the small of her back. Rough, calloused skin on his warm palm rubbed against her, fighting off the chill in the breeze as the temperature decreased the deeper the night became.

Breaking the kiss for air, John pressed his forehead to hers, his breath short and heavy. “I want this, Ror. Want you. Us ,” his voice thick with a deep need. “This feels right. You know it does.”

“John –” she said his name breathlessly.

“No, sweetheart. No more reasons not to, yeah?”

She still wasn’t entirely convinced. In the moment it was easy to forget the real world, to stop herself from seeing sense, but her mind continued to race through every scenario, every possible fantasy and nightmare that could come out of this decision.

“John…” She brought her hand to his temple stroking her fingers through his hair ruffled by the wind with his boonie hat removed. “I’m really not the easiest person to love, I wasn’t lying about that. Had to learn not to let people in. My job’s been about lying and secrets for years.”

And from the fear of being hurt, of being left behind once more.

“Yeah, so’s mine. You know that.” His hand came to rest under her chin, keeping her eyes on his. “Don’t you think that’s what makes us right for each other, my girl? No lies, no bullshit, no pretendin’ to be somethin’ we aren’t. Good, bad, or ugly. Just me and you.”

“You could have a woman who could give you a normal life,” she said quietly.

“Normal’s boring, love.”

“You’re going to have a retort for everything I say, aren’t you?” Her brow lifted as her mouth curled into a half grin.

“Maybe. Yeah.” His smirk fading to become serious once more. “But I mean it, I wouldn’t know how to handle some bloody white picket fence life. And even then I’d be havin’ to lie to whoever she was f’ the rest of my life ‘bout the things I’ve done. Don’t have to do that with you. Might be nice to get to be honest f’ once.”

Rory shook her head and huffed out a laugh. “Just as smooth as you were five years ago,” she teased.

“I can be charmin’ when I choose to be.”

She hummed, “That’s becoming very apparent.”

“You’re too perfect to let slip through my fingers, Rory,” he purred.

“I’m anything but perfect,” she whispered softly.

His thumb drifted across her lower lip, pulling at her pout and staring straight into her eyes. “You, my darlin’ girl, are exactly what I need.”

There was no denying the magnetic pull that had always been there between them, and with their mouths so close together it was only getting stronger. She could tell herself to pull away, to repel him, to push him back and carry on, focusing on her career as she always had, leaving her to a lonely world she had come to know so well. Saving herself the pain of loss and distance by never allowing anything good to come from letting anyone in. She found herself unable to do that anymore – not with him. He had been nothing but honest when he said being with him just felt right.

She wondered if her mother and father ever felt this way, living a life of apparent joy before they too parted and became another statistic.

Shaking her head clear of those thoughts, she closed her eyes and leaned in to kiss him once more, her lips pressed to his, soft and slow. Tongue sweeping against her pout, he prodded at the part of her lips until she rewarded him with access to her mouth. Climbing into his lap, she grabbed at the shoulder straps of his tac vest, deepening the kiss as her legs came to straddle his muscular thighs. Wrapping her body around his broad expanse, she was protected by him, held in his arms – the way it had always been.

Exactly the way she wanted him.

#call of duty #fan fiction #john price #john price x oc #oc: rory sinclair #fic: all along the watchtower #chapter 15

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