Ghosts of the Past (A Call Of Duty: Ghosts Fanfiction)

Chapter Seven

A plan was made two daunting days later.

    It was complicated and long, but everything would fall into line with ease so long as I stayed on track and kept my fake identity stable. The basic goals were to bring Rorke down and get Logan back in the process. Merrick estimated a couple of weeks at most. One duty was to catch up with the Ghosts in private meetings, no matter what I had to do to deliver the intel.

    I'd be going in as a college reporter—my features were able to let that one pass—in a research group about the war four years ago. My assignment was to interview Rorke and get a story rolling for the university newspaper. In that time, finding a way into the Federation was the main goal.

    I stood in front of the mirror of my quarters, examining my general look. I'd gotten the supplies needed to completely turn myself from soldier to civilian; I didn't like it very much at all. Now my darker strawberry blonde hair was curled neatly, make up increased my look into more of the "college student" vibe, and my clothes were professional—a black knee-length skirt, navy heels, a white tunic with a navy blue blazer, and a purse full of things necessary for interviewing someone.

    "Okay," I exited my quarters in slight disgust. "Be honest...how do I look?"

    "Like a college student," Kick smirked and eyed my bare legs. "A hot college student." I shoved him and he laughed away from me, missing my deep blush. "You look like the part, Ash."

    We headed for the exit; my ride was to be an average, yet older car. There, Merrick was waiting patiently with the other two Ghosts. All three held their sights on me as I arrived with Kick.

    "Remember," Merrick was the first to snap out of it, "you won't have any contact with us unless you use that phone. If something goes haywire, you know where to meet Keegan."

    "He'll be there for three days," I nodded in recognition.

    Merrick looked a little uncomfortable as he kneaded my shoulder. "We'll be waiting."

    I moved past him to Hesh, who was watching me with hope in his eyes. He held out a small trinket as I closed the distance. Dropping the small figurine into my palm, he closed my fingers.

    "When the time is right, give this to Logan."

    I nodded. "Of course Hesh."

    Hesh turned to walk back to Kick, watching me head toward the car. Keegan was standing at the driver's door, holding it open. I paused to look at him in slight admiration; out in the sun he was actually rather good-looking.

    "You might need these," he handed a pair of black-rimmed glasses toward me.

    I slipped them on, giving him a smile. "Do I look the part now?"

    I didn't miss the twitch of his lips. "We'll let Rorke decide that."

    Getting into the car, I threw my purse onto the passenger seat. Keegan shut the creaky door of the car and then patted the roof. I buckled up and then started the old beast.

    Without a second glance back, I pulled away from the Ghost's hideout.

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I drove for an entire day, filling up with gas a couple of times. With the emails I'd used to connect to Rorke, he was "fine" with a low key college student from Duke University like myself coming around for a couple of days. The thought was intimidating, but I felt triumphant knowing he'd let anyone in on his games.

    We were meeting on the border of Mexico and Arizona, the latter a long stretch of desert and dead things. I reached the address of the café before nightfall, a perfect time for dinner, and decided to go in before Rorke got there.