FF_992224_1780672089 3/23/2013

A/N: AU.

Disclaimer: I don't own Flashpoint.

Rob Braddock lifted an eyebrow at Sam for permission before taking over. "I'm just going to give you all a little background before Sam gets into the details," he said quietly. "I'm pretty sure you all know Sam served two tours with JTF2 as a sniper. Well, unlike most, Sam was pretty much thrown straight into combat. Most people figured it was because he was the general's son."

"Yeah, until they saw him shoot," the irrepressible Sean Morrissey muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Rob gave him a hard stare. Sean just looked back at him, innocence shining from his face. Rob rolled his eyes and muttered something unintelligible under his breath. Grins broke out on most faces, and they began to get the point that Bryan Jamison had made earlier.

"So," Troy asked, after a moment, "why was Sam just thrown in?"

Sam's face flushed a little and he turned back towards the window, unconsciously adopting a parade rest position; a sight that didn't go unnoticed by anyone in the room.

Rob watched his nephew for a short moment before addressing Troy's question. "Because we already knew how capable he was." Again his eyes sought out his nephew. "Most of you probably do not know this, but when Sam was twelve, he qualified for the Olympic Shooting Team."

Shocked silence filled the room.

"Sam competed in the Olympics when he was twelve?" Raf asked, slowly.

"Actually, no," Rob replied. Confused looks shot his way. And Sam turned slightly and shot an impatient glance at his uncle. "I was there when Sam turned them down," Rob continued, ignoring his nephew's discomfort. "I'll never forget what he told them. When they asked him to be on the team, he told them that shooting is not a game, and a rifle is not a toy. A rifle is a tool: a weapon used to defend yourself, your family and your country. Everything else is just practice. The Olympic officials went away impressed, and so was I."

Silence again filled the room. And again Sam felt the flush of self-consciousness flood his skin. He knew it was useless to wish that his complexion didn't show his feelings so easily, so he continued to face away from the group, hoping to avoid the reactions of his friends. He stiffened slightly when his uncle continued. He hated this discussion of his skills and statistics.

"Although Sam was pretty much thrown right in, he was immediately successful, with mission success rates above 95 percent. And he quickly established a reputation amongst the locals. More than most, his shots seemed to them to come out of nowhere. Between his success rates, his shots coming where and when least expected, and the fact that eighty percent of his successes were headshots, the locals began calling him the Ghost."

Sam squirmed a little, hearing it said out loud like this was even more uncomfortable than hearing it from the locals back in K-bar. Although, they didn't know they were speaking to the person they were discussing at the time. He winced as his uncle continued.

"It wasn't long before they put out a bounty on him," Rob said softly.

There was a moment of shocked silence. Before anyone could express the emotions that flooded the faces in the Briefing Room, Greg Parker spoke. "Was the bounty on Sam Braddock or the Ghost?" His question stopped the others' exclamations before they started.

Rob looked approvingly at the SRU Sergeant. He appreciated when someone actually got it without being told. "The bounty was put on the Ghost," he admitted. "We're pretty sure at that point that they didn't know who the Ghost actually was."

"Who did know that Sam was the Ghost?" Troy asked, frowning.

"The only people who knew Sam was the Ghost were the top staff in JTF2 and the men in Sam's unit. The other units knew the Ghost was in Sam's unit, but they didn't know exactly who it was," Rob replied.

"So how does that connect to what's happening now?" Ed asked slowly. He was trying to put all the pieces together, but he didn't think they had all of them yet.

"Sam?" Rob prompted, after the silence stretched out for a few moments too long.

Sam sighed silently, and made sure he was composed before turning to face the room. He knew he'd need that composure. "First, let's get everyone up-to-date," he suggested softly. His face twitched when Jules silently patted the back of his chair, her stern gaze leaving no doubt as to what she expected him to do. Sam rolled his eyes even as he smiled slightly in surrender, moving swiftly to the chair and seating himself. He tilted his head backwards and raised his eyebrows at his fiancée, silently asking if she was satisfied. When she nodded, he turned back and surveyed the room again.

Ignoring the amused smiles and smirks, Sam began again. "So, what's happening now began last Thursday. I was headed in to work and stopped to get gas in my truck. While I was inside the station, a man came in with a gun. After the clerk refused to give the subject the money in the drawer, I offered to get it for him. I went behind the counter and was moving towards the register when the clerk shoved me forward. I fell into the gun and it went off into my right shoulder."

Sam ignored Bryan's muttered, "Incident at work, my ass," comment, though he winced internally.

"The subject shot the clerk in the head and was turning the gun towards me when the sirens outside stopped him. Troy Walker and Team Two responded to the call. There were four other hostages, three women and a man. The subject then demanded an unmarked car with a radio and told Troy if he didn't get it in an hour, he'd kill me in front of him. During that hour, the subject restrained my hands behind my back and restrained the other hostages' hands in front of them. Troy asked for the subject's name when he contacted him after an hour, and the subject lost control. He blindfolded me with duct tape and gagged me with a kitchen towel and duct tape." Sam paused for a moment to suppress the shudder of remembered fear.

Sam continued before anyone could ask if he was alright. "The subject positioned me on my knees in the doorway with his gun at my left temple. Fortunately for me, Pete was able to kick the back of his knee, knocking him off balance, and Isaac took the shot that neutralized him."

Sam stopped when the four military officers exclaimed in surprise, staring at Pete Mills in shock.

"You never told us you were inside that station," Justin accused, glaring fiercely at Pete.

Pete shrugged uncomfortably. "I didn't figure it was relevant," he said slowly. He glared at Sam's smirk. They both knew that he'd deliberately left out his part in the story.

Sam shrugged. "You saved my life, man." He watched Pete squirm uncomfortably for a few moments before taking pity on him and continuing. "Everything pointed to me just being in the wrong place at the wrong time, until we weren't able to identify the subject. His fingerprints had been removed and his face didn't come up on facial recognition. And the medical examiner found evidence that he'd had surgery to change his facial features." Sam watched the interest sharpen on everyone's faces. Most hadn't heard that last fact.

A/N: So, a little more about Afghanistan, and a little more about the man who tried to kill Sam in the gas station. What's next? I hope no one minds the history that I gave Sam. Let me know what you think.