Call of Duty Ghosts: The Young Soldier

Chapter 1

Trent Brenner walked along the ragged edge of the cliff carefully, gripping his SC-10 tightly. Looking around, he sighed.

Putting his hand to his ear, he flicked his com.

"Clark, do you have anything?" He asked, and the answer came a moment later

"Nada. There's nothing in my sector. I just checked with Ryan. Nothing over there, either." He informed, and Trent dropped his hand with a hard sigh, then nodded.

"Yeah. I'm gonna continue the sweep in my area. I'm almost done. Then I'll meet you all at the rendezvous."

The chatter came to him quickly. "Okay, Trent. We'll see you soon." Clark's com faded out, and Trent stopped walking, staring out at the barren wasteland.

No Man's Land. The dangerous part of the country now.

Thirteen and a half years ago the space weapons station ODIN fired on America, and the Federation forces aimed to take the country away from them.

But the Ghosts rose against the challenge.

After training the best soldiers, the Ghosts began the assault. And in two years, they defeated the leader of the Federation, Gabriel Rorke.

But they lost many, many Ghosts along the way.

Two being the brother and best friend of their new leader, Captain Logan Walker. His brother, David Walker, was killed at the hands of a traitor. Keegan was killed in an assault on the military base of Westpoint by the very Ghost who now swore his allegiance to Logan. Corporal Trent Brenner.

But the amends were made, although sharp and painful. Trent was now one of the best soldiers Logan had seen, and he held him in high respect.

Now, the Ghosts had a new mission: rid America of any remaining Federation soldiers and keep the people protected.

Granted, they had done so before, but with only a single target. Now the Ghosts were spread across the country, each small group assigned a quadrant. Keeping the country safe was their main goal, their second being keeping the country going. It had fallen to its knees at the firing of ODIN and was in shambles since. But the Ghosts planned to change that. They would bring America back from the depths and make it whole again.

So in the South Los Angeles sector stood Corporal Trent Brenner, looking over one of the hundreds of crevices and faults created from the blasts. His heart beat strongly as he swept his gaze around, searching for any signs of life in the godforsaken, broken down city.

Buildings crumbling, roads destroyed, lives taken.

Brenner shook his head. "There's nothing here. There's never anything here. No one is ever near-"

His voice stopped when he heard a slight sound to his right, and he spun around to see a shadow move quickly in the broken building behind him. His eyes narrowed, and he started towards the structure. The shadow moved again, and his eyes widened when he saw the shape was that of a man.

He shook his head, then started running after them, vaulting over the half-broken wall.

"Wait! What are you doing out here?!" He shouted, then the sound of running feet stopped, and as Trent came round the corner he stopped short as he stared into the huge, bright green eyes staring back at him.

The young boy, about fourteen, met his gaze, shaking in fear. He was tall for so young an age, and had dark shortly cut hair, a sharp, handsome face, and a scar above his right eye. He wore a grey tattered thin jacket over an army green shirt, grey cargo shorts and tan sneakers. A small necklace hung around his neck, and a leather bracelet wrapped his right wrist.