Friend from the PastMature


Yuri's busted and bullet riddled truck tailed the train through the Canadian wilderness and through small towns. Reaper glanced over at Ghost who seemed preoccupied with his thoughts. Picking up my rifle from the trucks dirt covered floor, I switched the safety off, Kingston was going to be a hot spot with all the gunfire and explosions earlier. Ghost gave me a quick glance then turned back to the road. A sign passed letting us know we were twenty miles out. 

"What ever happen to her?" I asked remembering Mogadishu. Ghost scrunched his face, obviously confused. 

"Who?" he asked. 

"That American  girl, the reporter. She was with you at the jail, whatever happened to her?" Ghost's expression immediately hardened, his jaw going tight. A still and tense silence permeated the vehicle. After about 5 minutes Ghost spoke up. 

"She's safe." My gaze stayed on my rifle. 

"That's not what I asked. I asked what happened to her not how she is." The trucks engine revved as Ghost sped, keeping pace with the train beside us, another road sign passed. Ten miles. 

"Why do you care?!" he half snarled at me. I put both my hands up, obviously I had hit a raw nerve. 

"Curiosity, chill out. No need to get all wired on me. When we get to Kingston you can take your anger out on Black Light." I let out a sigh as both the tuck and train slowed. The station was a well sized building, fairly modern with automatic sliding glass doors. "Let's go," I grunted tucking the rifle against my shoulder and placing my finger above the trigger. Ghost followed weapon also in hand. 

"Why the weapons?" Ghost asked as the door flew open. 

"Chaos," was all I said before pointing my rifle at the ceiling and unloading an entire clip. People began to panic; screaming and running out of the train and building. Some cowered behind their luggage or seats. Two men in black BDU's, toting carbines stepped out of indents in the wall, like apparitions. Time slowed as bullets began to zing through the air. Ceramic plant pots burst, sending shrapnel into the air. Ghost ducked behind the ticket counter while I crouched behind an ATM machine. 

"You americans can't aim worth shit!" I taunted drawing more fire while I waited for the distinct CLICK of an empty clip. Ghost shot me a look like we had just made the dumbest decision since Mogadishu. Finally their weapons clicked empty, I could hear them fumbling with new clips, trying to load their weapons. I nodded to Ghost and we both broke from cover, unloading down range. Glass shattered, bullets whistled, and blood painted the marble floors red. The two agents were on the ground one dead, the other on the verge of death. Walking beside the man I pressed the barrel to his forehead. He said nothing, accepting his fate. One last shot signaled the end to the fire fight. 

"Strip the body, take his uniform, ammo, anything you can find useful." Ghost grinned, sneaking in as agents may not have been an original idea but hey, if it ain't  broke then don't fix it. Ghost and I quickly pulled on the agents black BDU's, find nothing other than a radio and keys to a vehicle. They had been sent on a suicide mission, I thought noting their equipment. 

"Lucas? Franks? You two there? We got word that you two had fight on your hands over at the train station. Pick up if you're there!" A man shouted into the radio. I haded the radio to Ghost, my accent would be instantly noticeable, Ghost would be harder to discern.

"Yea, we're fine. We tagged Ghost and Reaper, their dead." A moment of static crackled on the radio before anyone responded. 

"Did you two say you got Ghost and Reaper?!" The man sounded excited and shocked.

"Yep, meet us at the Kingston Trains station, from there we can head to H.Q."

"Affirmative, Great work guys! Bald Eagle will be excited about this." The radio went dead as Ghost and I looked at each other. So this Bald Eagle was the director of operation Black Light? 


The two agents walked into the disaster that was the train station. They were both joking with each other when they saw us. We both had on hats to cover most of our faces.

"You lucky bastards!" One shouted. "First we capture that reporter, and now we have two terminated loose ends! Can today get any better?! Bald Eagle is gonna have a field day torturing her!" I looked to Ghost, his fist was clenched and his other hand resting on his rifle's trigger. 

"What reporter?" Ghost asked, controlling his tone. The Black Light agents just kept on laughing. 

"The stupid bitch that helped Ghost in Mogadishu and New York. What was her name...Suzie, Samantha..."

"Sarah," Ghost whispered angrily under his breath, right there I knew all hell was about to break loose. 

The End

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