Author's Note: I'm so happy with the feedback that I've been getting from this story! You guys are the best! That said, I have a big chapter planned for my next update, so keep in mind that it may take me a longer time to update. That is all. I won't keep you guys waiting any longer.

Disclaimer: I don't own Call of Duty, only my lone OC is mine. Yippee.

CALL OF DUTY: ForeFront

Chapter 3: False Trail

Gabriel Rorke was not a man to be trifled with. He hated it when he didn't get things his way, when he felt as though he was just a pawn on a chess board. It aggravated the former Ghost to no end to not be in control of a situation.

As soon as he felt that the balance of control had shifted, he'd bolt. Stay in a situation that you can't handle, you'd only end up dead. It was a given, by and by. No matter how well trained you were, how talented with a knife you could be, it all ended on the subject of control.

No control, no second chance.

You'd wind up dead with a bullet in your brain. Or worse. The reason Rorke almost drowned at the hands of Elias Walker all those years ago was because he didn't have control of the situation. It wasn't Elias's fault, Rorke knew that, but the man left him to die in Caracas.

The Federation had saved him, and he'd been given a second chance at making things right. Creed had given him a purpose once again, and Rorke knew he owed the inquisitor big time for it.

Loki was just a stepping stone in what would have been the turning point the Federation was looking for. A way to defeat the Ghosts once and for all.

Events didn't play out that way in the end, however.

Instead, Loki was destroyed and now the Federation was weaker than ever. All thanks to two brothers with a vendetta against the man who killed their father. Well, one brother now. The other was theirs, the other had been set free.

Just like he'd been.

Except now Rorke saw things differently.

There had been a change in the natural flow of things. The natural order had been shifted. Creed, who Rorke once saw as a beacon of admiration and respect, was now a withering flame in a world too big for him. The man was washed up, old. He'd served his purpose, he'd given the Federation all he had to offer.

Now there was no use for him. Creed had become obsolete. Yet, the Director refused to appoint him into a position in charge, claiming that Creed was still vital to the operation.

Rorke failed to see how that man was of any importance anymore. He still admired his ability to get the job done, no matter the cost. His loyalty to the Federation was unquestioned, Rorke knew that.

The man had his own parents assassinated for treason.

That took guts, and a hell of a lotta courage. Most men wouldn't have been able to go through with it, but Creed just stood by and watched as his bloodline bled out into the pavement.

It was the only time Rorke had seen the man cry. It was a single tear going down his right cheek, but it still qualified as crying.

Though for the moment, Creed was still trying to prove his worth. Well, that wasn't true. The man knew his worth, he knew he was important, but Rorke could tell it scared him when that importance would fade.

And then Howard Creed would cease to exist, just like his parents did.

Rorke dreamt of that day, when he would fill in Creed's shoes, when he'd take charge. He was the commander of the hunt for the Ghosts, but it felt like he had no real power. No lasting power. Creed held all that, as Creed was the one giving Rorke orders.

Rorke hated taking orders. Another reason Creed had to go.

It wasn't that the man had done anything personally degenerating to him, in fact he'd given him a second chance at life. Even if Rorke would never truly admit it to Creed's face, he was better than that man could any be. The Inquisitor hadn't been in combat for twenty years.

It was ludicrous that the man even deserved to be in charge of field ops anymore, but that was the job of the Inquisitor. And since Creed still held the title, Rorke was powerless to do anything to obtain the power he so rightfully deserved.

So imagine his surprise when he found out that Logan Walker, the freshly turned Federation operative, was going to be his co-commander. He'd received the bulletin earlier in the morning, his outrage apparent to all in voice range.

Gabriel Rorke hated being cheated, and he could just tell that Creed was inwardly laughing at him as he found another way to screw with his head.

For right now Rorke was in a video conference, watching as Logan and Creed poured over blueprints and strategy defense lines. With Logan's recent turning, the man had all the American defense outposts and detection equipment in his memory.

It was an invaluable piece of intelligence, and of course the Director was giving Creed all the praise.

Even when it was MY idea to turn the kid over to our side...Backstabbing son of a bitch.

Rorke glanced up from his stupor to see that Logan was whispering something into Creed's ear, which granted another snarl from the Ghost Killer as he knew the two were most likely talking about him.

Another thing to drive him wild, and Creed knew it.

His thoughts were confirmed as Creed cleared his throat, no doubt about to ask him a question he wouldn't be comfortable in answering.

"Rorke. Our dear Logan here had a question regarding how you were going to handle the Ghost situation. He wishes to know if you plan on capturing his brother or killing him along with the rest of the squad."

Rorke smirked, letting out a bemused chuckle as he looked at Logan. The young man's head was looking down at a schematic of the Federation invasion plan.

"What? The kid can't ask me himself? Still upset about me killing his ol' man, huh?" Rorke let out another chuckle, shaking his head and rubbing his chin.

It seemed apparent that neither Creed nor Logan were going to answer his questions, and Rorke was absolutely fine with that. He wasn't expecting them to.

"The hotshot isn't getting any special privileges, if that's what you want me to get at." Rorke finally answered, crossing his arms. "By the end of the day, he'll be a charcoal briquette just like his buddies."

Logan didn't seem to react to this at all, instead his gaze into the schematics hardened. Rorke could tell the kid wasn't pleased with his plan, but Rorke wasn't ready to budge on it just because the newly-turned Fed started to get sentimental.

Maybe Creed's job of indoctrination wasn't as good as it was earlier in his youth. But that was a lie, Rorke knew it. He was starting to get desperate for any excuse to see Creed's removal from the plan.

The man didn't deserve any more glory.

"Logan would prefer if you could spare his brother's life instead of killing him. He understand that the Ghosts need to be stopped, he does. But he's made it abundantly clear to me that he will not bring harm to his brother in any way, shape, or form."

Rorke felt his irises flare as he let out a dignified breath, his chest rising in anger.

Now you're gonna dictate me how to run my own ops?!

"I ain't here to debate how to find the solution to this. You n' I both agreed that the Ghosts needed to be completely eliminated in order for our plans to work. That includes the ones back home in the States!"

Creed looked deeply into Rorke's eyes, and Rorke returned the hardened gaze with one of his own. He wasn't going to let this man intimidate him, no matter how much power or support he had from the Director. That bitch was probably fucking Creed on the sidelines, Rorke could smell it.

"Well it's a good thing that you don't get a say in this." Logan's voice abruptly interrupted their stare-off. "He's my brother, my family, and I say you don't kill him." Logan was now looking Rorke dead in eyes, his face stoic and reserved.

Rorke could feel his anger bubbling up inside, and he had to look away before he let out an outburst that would cause him to be severely reprimanded. "If you think that I'm intimidated by you kid, think again. This ain't a democracy here! The Ghosts pose too big of a threat to let even one of 'em live!"

If they didn't understand that, Rorke didn't know would make them. He felt like he was preaching to the converted.

Logan seemed to snort, or at least laugh at his argument. Rorke was had it up to here with that kid's ignorant youth on how to run things in the world. This wasn't a fucking playground where you got to have five minutes of freedom, this was the cold-dead world.

True happiness didn't exist in this place.

There was no room for error, and Logan's stubbornness of wishing for his brother to remain safe was a complete liability. If the fresh agent decided to get cold feet because of this, then Rorke knew he'd have to kill him.

All the hard work of the past three weeks would be undermined, and thoroughly wasted on a project that was Rorke's suggestion. It would be the end of his career, and quite possibly life, if he let this kid single-handedly screw this trap up.

Still, Logan seemed determined to have it his way. He just shook his head, scoffing while walking out of sight as Creed gave Rorke another hard look. "I'm not going to repeat myself Rorke, you are to make sure David Walker does not perish in the trap we've got planned out. Is that clear? Or do I have to bring the Director into this, I'm sure she'd be happy to give you an answer?"

Rorke knew he was beat now. The Director would only side with Creed, the two were playing favorites with the other. He swore that that whore was going to get what was coming to her, it was only a matter of time.

The man only let out a slow growl of frustration as he nodded his head in defeat. Creed still seemed suspicious though, as the man kept looking at him with an undeterred face. "I want you to say it."

Oh, so now I have to be your puppy?

Rorke rolled his head, forcing himself to look Creed in the eyes. "Alright. The kid lives, happy?" He didn't try and keep the irritation out of his voice, and it made him feel better to make things as difficult as possible for Creed.

"Say. It."

Creed articulated every word through gritted teeth, his eyes narrowing. Rorke smiled as he realized he was getting under the man's skin.

"Alright, Sir."

Creed didn't seem happy with the answer, as he knew Rorke was still faking it, but he looked pleased that he managed to make the Fed actually address him as 'sir'.

"Good. Logan will be pleased. You can proceed whenever you are ready, we'll be waiting for results by the end of the day. And for both our sakes, I pray you aren't lying to me." Creed paused, adjusting his collar. "Good luck, Rorke. Dismissed."

And with that, the video call ended. Rorke was once again left alone to his thoughts, his mind wandering as he grumbled under his breath. As he was leaving the teleconference, Rorke made the slightest grin possible at the moment.

He had no intention of honoring his agreement. Sparing any Ghost, even Logan's brother, was a disastrous lapse of judgement. You gave the Americans a quarter of power, and the Ghosts would just find a way to rise back up.

Rorke himself was just one Ghost. One. And he'd managed to overthrow the Ghosts leader and send them into turmoil. Creed failed to realize just how strong the power of revenge really was.

Revenge had almost killed him when Logan and Hesh had attacked him on that train. They had Loki hit them directly, sending the whole damn thing off the rails. Only someone as driven with revenge as they had been would do something that reckless.

No, Hesh was going to die with the rest of his men, like an honorable soldier should. There were no exceptions just because he was some agent's brother. He was an enemy combatant, and he was going to fall with the rest of America. Rorke thought Logan would understand that.

Where has his brother been? Has he rescued him? No, Hesh left Logan to rot in the Amazon because he was too weak to go after him. Just like how Elias had left him.

Face it kid, you sold your soul to a devil without askin' about the consequences.

Rorke smirked at his own jib, knowing Logan was about to become very upset upon hearing the aftermath of the mission.

Oh well, Creed'll just hafta pick up the pieces. He's good at that. Maybe the only thing he's good at.

Without another thought, Rorke briskly opened the doors to the courtyard and walked inside.

It was time to have some fun.

The more Hesh thought about it, the more crazy it seemed. The plan was simply ridiculous. Stupidity in its simplest form. It was like he was about to send his men into the frying pan.

Hesh was never one to think too far ahead when it came to strategies. It usually involved going in guns blazing and just hoping for the best. Merrick always was the go-to-guy when it came to battle plans. The man practically lived for giving others order, Hesh could just tell.

Merrick had also saved his ass on more than one occasion. First, it was from the wolves that had cornered him and Logan after they got stuck out in No Man's Land. Then it was back at the Atlas platform, when they were about to explode into a billion little pieces.

All in all, Hesh owed Merrick a lot.

It was safe to say that he could entrust the man on running point for the first half of the op. This was practically the last chance they had of getting Logan alive. The trail ended here, in Peru. There was no other snippet of information to go on, no other end to follow.

It was now or never. The stakes had never been higher.

This mission was the single most important undertaking that Hesh was about to complete. He could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins. It felt like his skin was on fire, his breathing constricting in his throat as he considered what would happen if they failed.

They couldn't fail. Hesh wouldn't allow it. He'd lost too much already to just turn back now. To just let himself fail when his brother needed him the most.

The Ghosts were about to kick off the greatest feat they'd ever imagined to accomplish. If this went exactly according to plan, by rescuing Logan they'd dismantle the Federation's recuperation. Therefore, the Federation wouldn't be given the upper hand in the counter-attack, and the giant nation would topple under its own weight.

The aftermath of such a collapse would leave them wide open for attack. The Federation of Americas would cease to exist in a couple of months, and then America could rebuild without fear of invasion.

The thought was almost euphoric.

The world would morph into a utopia of sorts. One of freedom from oppression. Back to the way things were. The very thought was enough to drive any true-blooded patriot into full combat mode. Basically, the entire future of the world depended on their actions.

That was a lot to put on the shoulders of only four people who were outgunned, outmatched, and completely outnumbered. Just the odds the Ghosts liked. Hesh always welcomed a challenge. And this was by every definition of the word the greatest challenge he'd ever faced.

But he wasn't alone. A soldier never went into battle without his brothers. Hesh felt blessed to be given the best damn team he'd ever had the pleasure of working with. This was to be their last mission; the coup de grace.

It would be the final time Hesh let himself lose something to this powerful nation, who might not be all that powerful when this was done and dusted.

Drawing himself back to the present, Hesh examined the courtyard through the binocular lenses.

This is where they're keeping Logan?

It was actually genius, Hesh had to admit. If it wasn't for the Neptune's technological skills back at home base in Nevada, they would never have found this safe-house. All they had to go on was a fragmented naval latitude, but Neptune found a way to make sense of it. And his brains had brought them to this exact building. Well, it looked more like a palace built for kings than a safe-house, but that was part of the guise.

No one would suspect the Federation would keep such a valuable prisoner of war out in the open, just hidden in plain sight.

The building was a rather large villa, surrounded by two adjoining houses with snipers posted on the roofs. A lookout was standing on the center overlooking the courtyard, which was in the middle of the villa.

The plan was simple.

But in, grab Logan, and kill all who got in the way. It sounded great, just like any other Ghost plan. Except, like always, there was a catch.

They didn't know what building Logan was in.

There were three possibilities. Each house they cleared added more resistance that they had to deal with, meaning more time that was wasted. They couldn't let Rorke, who the Ghosts knew was in the complex, escape with Logan.

And that was another thing.

Rorke.

The man was a Ghost killer, he'd already killed four of their own and was on his way to making it five. If he was in there with Logan right now, the man would welcome the chance to come out and fight his former team.

It was going to be rough, and that was putting it lightly.

This was about to get real nasty, really fast.

"Everybody strapped on, right?" Hesh breathed out as he glanced over to Kick, Keegan, and Merrick. They all nodded, Kick even giving two thumbs up.

At the current moment, the Ghosts were strapped onto a zip-line that Keegan was going to fire on Hesh's command. And until the squad leader summed up enough courage to begin the assault, they were just awkwardly waiting around the ledge of the hotel room that they were standing on.

"Any day now, Hesh." Kick jumped in, flicking his fingers in anticipation. Hesh could tell all of them were feeling a tad anxious, even if no one admitted it. This was a crucial mission in what could possibly the complete downfall of the country that had ruined half of America.

From what Hesh could see, there had to be more than sixty men down in the villa. He hoped they'd brought enough spare clips to fight that many. His mind flashed back to the story of how the Ghosts came to be, his father's voice cutting into his thoughts.

"When the men ran dry of ammunition, they used their blades, and when the blades ran dull, they used their hands."

Well, he had a feeling that they were about to do just that.

"Keegan, kick it off." Hesh found himself wondering how he got the words out, but they'd been spoken.

Too late to have second thoughts.

Keegan didn't need to be told twice. In fact, it looked as if the man had been dying to hear those words for ages, as he grinned before launching out the zip-line, startling a Fed soldier below.

"Go! Go!" Hesh shouted as Kick jumped from the hotel roof, swinging down to the second villa house window. Merrick and Keegan quickly followed, firing off their lines and leaving Hesh the last one to go.

With a puff of breath, Hesh launched his line and took a running jump off the roof. He maneuvered himself with his core as he felt his body hurtling towards the stained glass with impeccable speed.

CRASH!

With an audibly loud slam, his body smashed through the glass of the second story window. His body did a barrel roll as he brought himself up, already firing off a steam of bullets as his mouth opened to let out a war cry.

This is for Logan, this is for dad!

Hesh found himself advancing, Keegan covering his back with fire as he ran down the open hallway, spraying bullets into the rooms. Winds of metal zipped by his face, smashing potted plants and flicking textile specks into his eyes.

Running to the corner, Hesh slid around as he loaded some lead into a guard's chest. The man's body slumped to the ground, an immovable sack of flesh.

With force he didn't know he had, Hesh kicked open the door in front of him, scaring the shit out of a Fed sitting next to a bunch of computer consoles. He was promptly blasted away before being able to reach his sidearm.

Kick entered the room next, covering the left flank as Hesh covered the right. The two advanced down to the a small corner door, Kick nodding as Hesh threw in a flash-bang.

Kick slammed in the door, Hesh following suit as the two filed in.

The two guards lay dead from their weapons fire, but the room was an empty storage area of Federation supply rations.

"Crap, wrong building." Kick muttered, Hesh already backtracking as he ran out back to the balcony overlooking the courtyard.

Keegan and Merrick were down below, laying down suppressive fire on the men near the fountain. It was shame, really, to see all the flower beds and beautiful plants be trampled by boots and grenades.

By now the whole complex was on high alert, alarms blaring as men ran out of the remaining two houses. Not wanting to linger for too long, Hesh patted his chest while pointing on the middle building. Keegan and Merrick understood as they maneuvered their way across the courtyard to meet up with Hesh and Kick.

"Look out, grenade!" Hesh shouted as he heard a familiar cling next to his position. He shouted it out just in time too, as Kick barely made it to the landing before the supporting pillar was desolated by a loud explosion.

Hesh felt a rumble as he watched the whole second floor hallway begin collapsing in on itself, causing him to stick a hand out to support himself. Things were getting wild now, as Federation elites started to open fire on their position.

Luckily, they had furniture to use as cover.

Ducking under a grand piano, Hesh watched as Kick dived behind a couch. Feathers and fluff sprayed everywhere as bullets pierced the fabric.

Crawling underneath his cover, Hesh brought out his gun as he provided blind-fire. Hopefully, Keegan and Merrick hadn't been slowed down by the landing falling in on itself. He really hoped they weren't trapped under the debris. He really, really hoped that wasn't the case.

As if his prayers had been answered, the delicate sound of a knife cutting through someone's throat signaled that his backup had arrived.

Not keeping his glee from showing, Hesh lurched out and bounded over the couch. With a forceful swing of the arm, he connected his fist with another man's jaw. The Fed stumbled backwards, trying desperately to regain his composure. With a yell, Hesh's foot slammed into the man's stomach.

His court grunt was enough to signal that the air had been knocked out of him, and his backward stumble sent him flying down the stairs. He landed with an ungraceful pose, and an audible snap could be heard.

Most likely the man's neck.

Well, that's one way to go.

Cracking his own neck, Hesh nodded to Keegan and Merrick, both looking dirty and scraped up from whatever they were doing downstairs. "Just in the knick of time, guys." Hesh let out a breathless laugh, patting Merrick's shoulder playfully.

"Yeah well, we got hanged up around the living room. Saw a hidden tapestry room and decided to go check it out."

"Well?" Hesh tried to keep the excitement from his voice. Seeing Merrick's disappointed face, Hesh felt his hope dimming.

"Nothing. Just some schematics on railway labor work methods. This building's clear." Merrick sighed, shouldering his assault rifle.

They all knew what that meant, Logan had to be in the widest house. It was the least preferable, due to the wide open space it provided for snipers. Hesh should've known that was the most logical area for a prisoner to be locked away in.

Any attempt to escape could be easily thwarted, and any attempt at a rescue was just the same.

Another thought occurred to him.

Rorke was probably there, waiting for them with that shit-eating grin of his. Hesh swore that that guy was inhuman, the way he enjoyed torture and killing. It was beyond disturbing.

"Alright guys, we're close. Let's not make Logan wait for us any longer, huh?" That got a few invigorated smiles from the team as they pushed themselves down the stairs. Running forward into the entrance way, all four had to take immediate cover when an LMG started to shred the concrete with firepower.

Hesh grit his teeth as a shot barely missed his right shoulder, his body convulsing even further together in an attempt to become as skinny as possible while leaned up against the pillar.

Damn it, out of arm range. If I could just get close enough to throw a frag...

"Kick, Merrick, you guys lay down cover fire! Keegan, with me!" Hesh shouted out as the two opened fire on the LMG position. Using the small lapse of fire from the opposing side to their advantage, Keegan and Hesh bolted across the hallway foray.

Just in time too, as the machine gunner returned fire not a moment after they got into a closer cover. Taking out a grenade, and seeing Keegan doing the same, Hesh pulled the pin with his teeth as he hurled the grenade over his shoulder.

"Ahh!" The Federation gunner screamed out as he flew forward, his body missing a leg.

"Tango down!" Keegan shouted as all four moved up into the building. It was the same fire and maneuver from the doorway frames, Merrick and Kick taking up the flank as Keegan and Hesh provided return fire on the remaining five Fed soldiers.

Feeling an adrenaline rush from being so close to his brother, Hesh pulled out his pistol as he fired away two of the Feds with head-shots. Another was taken out by a knife throw courtesy of Keegan, and Kick finished off another with his last clip.

That left one.

Hesh could tell the man was petrified, as he dropped his weapon in fright before running into a safe-room, slamming the door behind him.

Typical Fed cowards.

It wasn't unlike the last of the group to go down honorably, so much for dignity and courage. Another sign that the Federation was full of hypocrites.

"This is it, guys. Keep it tight."

Reaching the door, Hesh and Merrick filed to one side while Keegan and Kick filed to the other. Without a word, Kick moved forward and planted a kicker charge on the door.

"3...

2...

1..."

BOOM!

The door caved inward as splinters of wood spewed everywhere, Merrick going in first with a wave of fire. The Fed soldier raised his pistol, only to have his body convulse as six rounds pierced his chest. His corpse fell back against the wall, eyes glazed over.

"I don't get it, where is he?" Merrick muttered out as he examined the room, finding it vacant except the dead soldier. "Where the fuck is he?!"

Keegan seemed confused too, glancing around as if he'd missed a clue. Hesh's eyes searched desperately for any sign that Logan was there, but found nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

What?! How?! How is this possible?! We were so sure, how could we have missed something?!

Hesh's anger boiled over as he sent his fist into the wall. "DAMN IT!"

He'd failed his family again, this time for good. Logan was gone, taken away to some other country by now, getting the crap kicked out of him for his captors own amusement. It made him sick to the stomach to think he'd let that happen to his baby brother.

They were too late.

Logan was gone.

"Hold on, what's this?"

Kick spoke up, picking up what seemed like a small tape-recorder from the ground. Without thinking, he pressed the 'play' button.

"Hey, Ghosts! I got something for ya!"

The voice sent a fury through Hesh's veins, but also established a newfound vigor in his gut.

It was Rorke.

Rorke was speaking to them, but why?

What's going on?

"I bet you're all bummed about not finding your dear old pal, but don't worry. He's just dandy with us. In fact, he's more than dandy. Ya hear that, Hesh? Your brother actually listens to reason, somethin' I think you desperately need to work on."

Hesh felt his blood boil as he turned to snarl at that recording. This was beginning to sound incredibly suspicious and bad. Rorke knew that they were coming? How? And why leave some stupid recording behind?

No doubt this was another attempt to taunt them for their failure, which only irked Hesh further. What more did this man want to take from him?

It was agonizing enough to know that Logan was still in Federation custody, but to hear Rorke's jabs at his family was enough to send any man over the edge.

"I bet it's occurred to you by now that Logan ain't there. That's cause he's all the way back with us. Ya see, we knew you were comin'. In fact, we lured you to this very spot for a specific reason. It wasn't to rescue Logan, oh no. Ya see, the foundation of this villa used to be built over a sinkhole. Of course the ground underneath has stabilized itself, but if you cause a strong enough vibration through the earth, the whole thing becomes...unstable."

Hesh could hear Rorke's laughter, and he immediately did not like where this was going.

"We've been set up? We've been set up!" Hesh shouted out, all the other Ghosts putting the pieces together as well. How could he not have seen this coming sooner?

God, how could I have been so stupid?! It was so obvious!

Hesh figured he could berate himself in the future, and without further ado he began scramble.

Kick followed suit, dropping the recording in a hurry.

"Bye-bye, Ghosts!"

Rorke's voice haunted after them, and suddenly a loud thoom could be heard from far off. Soon after, Hesh felt a vibration pass underneath his feet.

No sooner had it been heard, Hesh was already up and moving towards the source.

Suddenly, the entire courtyard began to sink into itself, all the nice marble and concrete giving way as the ground started to crumble.

"Fuck, we gotta get the fuck outta here!" Merrick shouted out, and Kick didn't need to be told that. Everything started to collapse, the walkway beginning to slant as the supporting beams gave way underneath.

Hesh jumped and slid over falling debris, trying desperately to keep himself upright. It was so damn difficult with everything tilting. An abrupt lurch caused him to slide off his feet, his body sliding down the walkway like a ramp as he saw himself hurtling towards the ground.

"Hesh!"

Kick's hand shot out, gripping his wrist with an iron grasp. Hesh was surprised by how strong Kick was, though he quickly shook that off as he felt himself getting hoisted back up.

The moment was short-lived however as Hesh saw the roof break off, the entire textile platform sliding down at them. "Watch out!" He cried, only it was too late.

The force of the impact caused both men to fall off the second floor and down into the sinking earth below.

Hesh let out a painful grunt as he hit the ground, his back aching from the fall. His eyes bolted open, albeit quite blurry as he looked around for Kick. There was nobody in sight, only sinking debris and collapsing concrete. Hesh noticed that the ground he was sitting on was beginning to break apart.

With a surge of strength, possibly from the sheer will to live, Hesh bolted himself under the falling rocks, through the flying dirt, and jumped over chasms as they began to appear in his wake.

He didn't have time to look back to see if anyone was following him, he just ran. He ran until he bursted himself free of the danger zone with a massive jump to solid ground, his body rolling until he came to a halt.

Raising himself up, Hesh ignored the blood and dirt that caked his body. He ignored the pain that he was feeling. All he did was gaze up as he watched the once massive villa disappear into the earth, taking everything and everyone with it.

Hesh felt himself go limp, his legs giving out beneath him as he collapsed to his knees.

I've failed. I've failed Logan and I failed my team. I probably just led them to their death, and I didn't even realize it.

Oh Hesh, what the fuck have you done?

Creed's order had been simple. Find the base, find the defense codes, and wipe the area clean.

He'd already given Logan the rundown of how many men were guarding the facility, and what to expect resistance wise. It seemed easy enough, as it was the first time Logan had been out in the field since his capture.

What Creed had failed to mention was that he'd be working alongside Rorke.

Rorke.

The man who killed his father right in front of his eyes.

That guy, yeah.

This was the main reason Logan was unhappy at the current moment. He knew he'd be working with the man when he decided to join up with the Federation, but he thought it would be nothing more than just talking and coming up with strategies together.

Nope.

Apparently, he was to work with this agent ninety percent of the time he was going out on ops. Ninety percent. Logan knew he'd just have to get used to fighting with the Ghost Killer, and that he himself wasn't actually a Ghost anymore.

Though he didn't betray them, not at all. They betrayed themselves when they went along with Americas plans. Hesh too, despite Logan's uneasiness about fighting his own brother.

That was another thing he'd have to get over.

The other reason that Logan was currently unhappy was that he was dangling from a very high cliff. It was the only way to get inside the base without being detected, but that didn't make Logan feel like this was necessary.

Creed was just testing him, making sure he was field ready for the invasion plan they had going on. That was something Logan was actually looking forward to, but in order to commence the invasion, they had to have the exact American defense patterns.

Sure, his memory was good, but trying to come up with the exact frequencies and relays after being subjugated to torture for nine months was hard.

So acquiring the codes from this Mexico sub-station was key. It was a well hidden station, but with Logan's know-how of American bunker locations, they'd easily found it.

Logan knew how close he was to the Texan border, how close he was to home. But then again, it wasn't really his home anymore. Not entirely. He now belonged to the Federation of Americas, as he was one of their top agents.

America was now a foreign place to him, the enemy. It was a strange, yet somewhat welcomed, feeling to be fighting against your former comrades. Your former brothers in arms. Logan just couldn't explain it.

"Hey, kid! Get your head outta your ass and focus!" Rorke snapped to him, the man working his way along the cliffside above him.

Logan scoffed, using his returning strength to force himself to climb upwards. It felt good being back in the field, it really did. This was what Logan had trained for since he was seven years old. His father really was proud of his boys, and that brought a smile to Logan's face.

Good old dad. I miss you.

Dwelling in the past though wouldn't bring him back, and blaming Rorke or himself wouldn't help move things along. They had a mission to complete, and they were going to finish it.

Rorke had just gotten back from Peru, and news of what happened to the Ghosts was still traveling. From what Logan had caught up on, it was successful. But those were just bits and snippets, not the whole story.

He'd asked Rorke about it before they parachuted down to the cliffside, and the man had seemed reluctant to talk about it. Logan would find out in the morning anyway, so he decided not to press it.

He got the feeling that Rorke still didn't trust him, and he could say the same about the man.

It was probably another reason Creed put them together, so they could build up a partnership.

Finally reaching the top, Logan took out his silenced sniper rifle as he cocked the bolt back, placing a bullet in.

"Take out the guard in the tower on my mark. Three, two, one, mark." Rorke said, Logan following the orders as the American soldier fell with a solid shot to the head.

"First American kill, how'd that feel?" Rorke asked with a grin, to which Logan shrugged.

"No different."

That got a chuckle from the man as they moved in on the station. It wasn't all that big, in fact it was only one building with three rooms inside. Still, the top overlook was the room they were interested, everything else was irrelevant.

"I'll take the East side, you cover from the North." Logan quipped up, Rorke grunting as the two split off.

Bracing himself against the hard concrete, Logan pulled out his two silenced beretta pistols as he waited for Rorke to get into position.

"I'm ready. On you, kid."

Logan kicked in the door with a solid slam as he greeted the two Americans inside with throat shots, both of them gurgling as they fell down before they knew what happened. A loud scream and gunshots could be heard from the room next door, signifying that Rorke had entered the building.

"Room clear." Logan remarked in his radio as he moved up the metal staircase, on his way to the second floor overwatch. He felt breathing behind him, knowing Rorke had caught up.

"There's one tango inside, he's all yours." Rorke grunted, stepping back a little to give Logan space.

The boy nodded, flexing his muscles as he rounded the corner and offed the radio operator with a swift shot through the forehead. The man's brain matter covered the window overlooking the Gulf.

"Nice." Rorke chuckled, patting Logan in the back as he got to work downloading the schematics from the nearby consoles.

Logan didn't bother to look over anything else as he holstered his weapons, waiting patiently for Rorke to finish.

"Done. Let's bolt before the Americans check-in." Rorke got up quickly, already brushing past Logan with a little force as he headed down the stairs. Not having the energy to retort, Logan followed after him until they were clear of the station.

As soon as they were out of the perimeter range, Rorke patted Logan's shoulder while he brought out a case.

"Ready to rain hellfire. You wanna call it in, kid?" Rorke smiled, sliding the Predator feed over to him.

Logan just gave Rorke a look, raising an eyebrow as he hesitantly stuck out a hand and grasped the handle. His answer was clear.

Opening it up, Logan gave one last look before he pressed the button.

The Predator missile slammed down on the station, engulfing the entire thing in an inferno and erasing any trace that they were ever there.

Author's Note: Alright, alright! So we got Logan, Creed, and Rorke doing their bad guy's stuff. Invasion plans are getting closer to reality. Meanwhile, things don't look so good for the Ghosts. What happened to Merrick, Keegan, and Kick?

Are they alive?

Stay tuned!