Rorke's Ghost Hunter team assembled amid their prisoners.

Olivares, Blanco, Guzman and Munoz stood next to Trace; his face was bloody and bruised, but he was still alive.

Mendoza, Benitez, Alvarez and Torres stood next to the dead body of Hint; he had bled out, despite Alvarez's best efforts.

Vargas, Gil, and Rorke stood next to Logan, a bandage over his leg.

"So, looks like Elias has left one of his of his men to die to save his own ass," said Rorke. "No shock there."

"Fuck you, you miserable piece of shit," spat Logan.

"Now, as a matter of fact, kiddie, I do believe I know you. Logan. Logan Martin Walker, son of Elias." Rorke chuckled. "Bastard left his own son to die. Wow. Even I didn't think he'd do that."

"Rorke? Didn't think we'd meet again," said Trace, trying to sound calm. He failed.

"Remember me, do ya? You didn't remember me in Colombia."

"Rorke? You're that fucking traitor we see on the news all the time," said Logan.

"I was the one who was betrayed, kid. It's a long story..."

"We were hitting a base, kid, just next to the Caquetá River. We were gonna use that to our advantage, the seven of us. The Ghosts had been formed three months prior, and "officially" we weren't part of the US army. Trace, Ghost, Banshee, Apparition, Wraith, Revenant, Phantom... and me. Shade, that was my call sign. We managed to blow up the base fairly quickly. We did lose Banshee, though. Fucking waste; he stood too close to the blast and a piece of shrapnel took his head off. So, we got onto the escape boat; I was with Apparition, Ghost and Revenant in one, Phantom, Wraith, and this little bastard here in the other. Hey, Trace, why don't ya tell him what happened next?"

Trace remained silent, so Rorke nodded and Olivares smashed him on the back of the skull with his rifle.

"Okay, okay! A helicopter began chasing us, and then this prick wearing a suicide vest jumped on. Shade managed to put a bullet in his head, but it must've been on a timer or something... started beeping... Apparition got a stinger, shot down the chopper.

"Fucking stray piece of shrapnel went straight through his leg and it fucking pinned him. Revenant was trying to heave the explosives off the boat...Shade was freeing Apparition..."

"And what did Ghost do, Trace?"

"I'm sorry, Logan... he ran. He jumped onto our boat... and we left."

"Revenant was killed instantly," picked up Rorke, "And I managed to drag Apparition to the riverbank. He was crying, blood pouring out of his mouth, scars and cuts all over his face... He looked up at me, like he was about to say something, and went limp. Michael Garret was my friend. And your father killed him. They found me wondering aimlessly, traumatized... I described a force so powerful, so lacking in any empathy, they could only be described as... inhuman. Supernatural. Mere Ghosts of human beings...

"And your father wore than statement like a medal. He enjoyed killing us. And I realized it then; the US started this war. They had burnt and maimed their way through Central America. They were run by Dickens; a man who had mysteriously been elected for his 4th term in a row."

"Oh, and Ramos running South America as a puppet state? The fact his "Emergency powers" are still in place, preventing any votes at all?" shouted Trace. A punch from Mendoza shut him up.

"Alvarez, Benitez, load these shits into the chopper and take 'em to Caracas."

The AC-130 rumbled through the sky, Spirit having filled the jets already with bullets and rockets.

"Okay, what do we do now?" asked Wraith. "We leaving those three behind or going back for 'em?"

"We go back," said Elias. "Dash, Wraith, Phantom, get ready. Spirit, turn us around."

Alvarez lifted Logan up by the arm, and was about to shout at him to stand the fuck up, but Benitez screamed.

"What the fucking hell? It's the Ghosts!"

The nine SAMA troops, Rorke included, dived for cover as bullets riddled their position, creating an outline beside Logan and Trace.

The AC-130 skidded to a halt, and Wraith and Merrick jumped out, launching suppressive fire at Rorke's squad.

Wraith slid forward, and picked Logan up in a fireman's carry, swiftly loading him onto the plane. Merrick heaved Trace to his feet, and they both ran. Spirit continued to rank the surrounding area with bullets, but Rorke wasn't intimidated.

As Trace ran, his hands still secured, a bullet smashed into his back. He screamed, and fell limp onto the floor. Wraith returned his own suppressive fire, and Rorke ducked once more. Merrick dragged him along, shoved him into the plane, and shouted, "GO! GO! GO! Spirit, get us the hell out of here!"

Trace collapsed onto the floor. Blood spurted from his mouth.

"Ah...Merrick...they got Hint..."

"Shh. Alex, it's okay. You're going to be fine. Dash, get the fucking medkit!"

Alex Johnson closed his eyes and never opened them again.

"No! Don't you dare give up on me!" Merrick screamed, as he shook Trace's lifeless body.

The plane descended into silence.

Two more crosses were added to the Graveyard of Ghosts.

Alexander Vincent Johnson The Trace of Bravery, he was the fearless guardian of the Ghosts

Christopher Kenneth Greene The Hint of Valour, he was the unwavering sentinel of the Ghosts