Ghost Rider-

Bad Company.

AN: was looking through the forum, thought that G.R. needed a new image. Please msg me for info and or ideas. (please note I will used ideas from all versions) I don't own Ghost rider or any marvel characters. Rated T...for now?

Chapter #1: A Rider Reborn-A Deal Made in Hell.

June 27th- 2005.

Dear Jordan,

You have no idea how much I miss you. I would rather be with you instead of this desert. The sand gets EVERWHERE. My deployment is almost up, just got word from my dispatch yesterday. I be home soon. I heard there is more hero battles lately state side. Please stay safe till I get back, Then I'll pop that question officially.

With all my love

Jack-

P.s. Could you look in on my friend gary, heard he's on thin ice.

P.M.C BCC Transmission 08-01-19-72

Date: 06 30 2005

Patrol unit 6 echo 6

SOCOM COM.

Job has change boys, patrol route is to be move from delta grid 298-299 to grid 336-337 as of 0800 tomorrow. Get moving.

End...

…...

…...

Tapped by D.o.d counter terrorism unit...

Delta force on standby until further notice.

June 31st, 2005 20:37 HRS.

Location-Afghan border.

Patrol Grid Delta 336

The burnt ground around what was left of Jack Raymond's convoy left only charred remains of his fellow merc's. He lay there on the ground, every breath harder to make. He remembered patrolling the area with his comrades. He remembered the RPGS flying at his Humvee, the explosions, the pain. Shrapnel had pierced his body armor. Blood flowed freely as he began to crawl to his other men, check for other survivors.

There were none left.`

Jack laid back on the ground, palming his Pistol. If any contacts came back, they'd be for a same shock. Though, they might come back and find another dead body.

Crunch, Crunch, Crunch.

Jack looked over to see an older man in a suit and black overcoat walking next to him. A cane was in his left hand, a rolled up paper in his other. The man's face was weathered, with blood read eyes that could look to your soul. Jack was still dazed, but tried to stand up. As he rose, blood rolled down his uniform and onto the ground.

"Jack Raymond, you don't look to good. Though..." the man pointed to the ground around him. "I think your better than your friends."

Jack raised his M-45 MEU at the man, finger on the trigger. He didn't know if this man was a enemy or a friendly. Even if his was friendly, how did he get here? Last he checked, business men didn't work in a active war zone

"Who are you."

Then man laughed, "A man of action I see."

"Answer the damn Question." Jack said, slightly wobbling from blood loss.

The man straightened up, looked at the solider. "You and I know that you are in deep Shit. Those cuts of yours are bad. Maybe even fatal. You and I know you may not make it till help comes. I'm here as the man to make you a deal."

"What...SSSS... Deal" Jack fell to his knees, still holding his handgun.

"Simple, you sign this contract here," the man unrolled the paper, "and your 'death' will fall onto another person. You'll live to fight another day, DIE anther day. "

"Just like that?"

The man chuckled again, "Just like that

Jack thought for a minute, Then said, "What's in it for you? What do I have to do?"

The old man now spoke with a serious look on his face.

"Just when your healed, you receive a...Gift from me. You have to keep that gift for the rest of your life. It won't affect you that bad, just a little thing. It would be worth it to see your girl again, mmmm.

"I don't have a pen." said Jack sarcastically has he reached for the paper. As he grabbed the paper, his bloody thumb landed on the signature line. The old man pulled away the paper as a surge of power flowed through Jack. He looked down as he saw the once running wounds heal almost in a instant.

"That's just fine Jack. I'd look over there if I was you."

Jack look over his shoulder. There in the distance, a Black Hawk was flying towards him. He turned back to see the old man had disappeared.

Jack then fell back into black unconsciousness.

Jack stirred as he felt the cot beneath his back. The crew of the Black Hawk had seen the flames from the wrecked Humvee and landed nearby. They brought Jack and the dead Mercenaries onboard and flew to the airbase near by. The hospital staff was baffled by Jack's physical state. The shrapnel that had pierced his skin where still there, but the wounds where healed to the point of only scars remaining. Burns disappeared like they were washed off. They didn't know what else to do. All they could do was put him in a barrack and let him rest.

Jack was awakened by a knock on his bedside table. He opened his eyes to see another solider standing at edge of his bed. A quick glance revealed three brass stars on his shoulder. "Great, Army boys."

"Mr. Jack H. Raymond, you have a name for yourself boy. Former army, moved to private sector, know one of the best Merc's in the world. I'm sorry 'bout your men, but right now your to stay here until we clean up your fuck up. By the way... you've got mail."

The General threw a letter into jack's hand, and walked out of the room.

"great, what else could go wrong."

He opened the letter, reading it slowly, then threw it at the wall.

Dear Mr. Raymond.

I regret to inform you that last night Ms. Jordan Fields was murdered last night in your shared home. We believe that it was a robbery gone wrong. I'm sorry for you having to find out this way.

Yours truly

DET. K. M. Marshell.

Well, first try. If you like, let me know. If not...COME AT ME BRO!, or just be nice about it (I do take any ideas for improvement)