This is a story that's floated around my head since I was in Okinawa about a month ago now. It's probably the most at fault for making After Endgame so slow in updates...
I apologize for those reading that story, I'm starting to work the wrinkles in that story, but I should have the next chapter to my beta in a few days.

Also, I would like to point out that this story, if you didn't really read the comic Modern Warfare 2: Ghost you won't be completely lost, however you will miss a few details in later chapters...

Thanks to my Beta panpanpeppermint for, well, Beta-ing this story~

Onward~!

A cool breeze whipped through the 141 base, a fine mist lifting as the sun rose. The base was settled in a small clearing surrounded by towering evergreens in an undisclosed mountain range, safe from hikers and the prying eyes of satellites.

Despite the early hour of 0530, most of the men were in various points of their morning workout, newer recruits watching the veterans as they cleaned equipment or they themselves jogged past, learning new exercises they could incorporate into their own routine.

Two men were separated, standing opposite each other, each in a fighting stance. One wore a skull balaclava and red tinted sunglasses to hide his features, the other's dark hair haphazardly brushed and slightly covering his green eyes.

"Ready?"

"Please Ghost; I could kick your ass."

"Is that a challenge I hear Roach?"

"Well if you took off your damn Kevlar vest it would be an even match."

"Is that what you think?"

"I'll wait."

Ghost's smirk was hidden by his balaclava as he dropped his stance. He removed his Kevlar, placing it neatly on a table before returning to his position opposite Roach, who wore a pair of goggles around his neck instead of their usual perch on his eyes.

"Ready?" Ghost asked once more, retaking his stance.

"Go."

Both men flew at each other, Roach swinging with his left aiming at Ghost's torso. Ghost blocked it, his right fist flying towards Roach's face. Roach ducked, twisting his fist free and jumping back. Ghost frowned, dropping his stance. Roach jumped forward, right fist leading. Ghost froze before sidestepping, catching Roach by the arm and flipping him over his shoulder. Roach grunted as his back hit the ground, gasping and rolling to the left quickly to avoid a punch to the face. Roach scrambled up as Ghost shook his wrist, taking a few steps forward before swinging up his right leg up, aiming for the face. Roach ducked, sweeping his leg out and hitting the back of Ghost's knee, making him lose his balance and fall back. As Roach started to kick his side, Ghost rolled backwards, getting back on his feet and delivering a swift kick to the center of Roach's chest, toppling him.

"Give up?"

"Ok, put the damn Kevlar back on. You're better without it on." Roach huffed, lifting his head to look at the Lieutenant.

"You said you could take me without it. Well?" Ghost teased, a smirk playing into his voice.

"I lied. Shut up Ghost." Roach dropped his head, sighing in defeat.

"You're getting better, jus-" Roach swung his legs out, knocking Ghost back down again. He landed flat on his back, knocking the wind out of him as Roach stood up and smirked.

"I'm getting better? Thanks Ghost." Roach reached down, offering to help Ghost up. Ghost coughed as he grabbed Roach's hand, moving to get up. A sudden yank had Roach flat on his stomach on the ground and his arm twisted up in the air by Ghost.

"But you could still use the practice." Ghost finished, releasing his hold.

"How did I end up on the ground…?" Roach asked, confused. He looked up and saw a ring of people surrounding him and Ghost, passing money between each other. "…pricks."

"Hey, Ghost, Roach. We have a mission-MacTavish wants us in the briefing room in five minutes." Archer interrupted the circle with Toad, passing a bill to Chemo.

"Who betted on me?" Roach asked as he stood up.

"Actually, a few more than last time." Chemo replied.

"See Roach? They have the same fantasy as you." Ghost said as he started to head in.

"What fantasy?" Roach asked.

"That you could beat me."

"Wh-GHOST!"

"New mission? We haven't had one in a while sir." Ghost said as he sat down next to MacTavish in a darkened room. The others followed, sitting in the other chairs surrounding a projector.

"Shepherd's been sending a few missions towards the Rangers so we could get a few days of rest. Today's mission is all about stealth." MacTavish started.

"What's the target?" Archer asked, leaning forward as the projector turned on. A map of Central America and Mexico focused in, a red X over a city bordering Mexico.

"Shepherd's networks think they discovered that Makarov has been getting weapons, money and a few other things from a drug cartel." MacTavish explained. Ghost fidgeted nervously in his seat, a motion caught by Roach and MacTavish.

"Are we going in for intel?" Flicks asked. He was a Canadian, with a small build fit for stealth and speed.

"And if we can manage to sabotage the drug cartel in any way, we do it." MacTavish nodded. "We leave in three hours. Prep for any scenario-we don't know what it's like. Dismissed."

"Sir!" The men chorused, standing up and exiting, stratigising talks going between them. Ghost didn't move, staring at the map.

"Yeah right Jayhawk! You hear this loser Gho-Ghost?" Roach asked, looking back as he reached the doorway. Ghost nodded once slowly, standing up.

"…Roach I want to talk to Ghost privately. Go ahead." MacTavish sighed. Roach nodded, closing the door behind him. MacTavish placed a hand on Ghost's shoulder, looking at him in the eye.

"It wasn't my choice to put you on this mission."

"I know…"

"If you want, we could say you have a sprained wri-"

"No." Ghost shook his head. "I'm not going to back out of a mission just because of that. The guys know I've been out on a mission with a broken right hand before. A sprained wrist is a stupid way of saying-"

"It's not stupid." MacTavish interrupted. "If you want to go, that's fine. But I'll be watching your back, alright?" Ghost nodded once before leaving, his posture withdrawn. MacTavish sighed, running a hand through his Mohawk.

"Aye…this isn't going to be easy…"

So this story is a little rough around the edges...I can totally see it when I looked through it...however, the material in the story (I wrote up to 30...something higher than 30...) is a little different than what I've ever done...which will be bad-or good, if you talk about expanding my horizons as a writer...who knows, I might be good at this...*shrug*

Hope you guys liked it, and if you could give me any form of feedback (obviously outright flames will be used to...actually, I don't want to tell you because then you'd steal it from me...) to help me write this story better, it would be greatly appreciated...give me some ideas too if you'd like. I probably won't be able to fit all of them in, but I can certainly try.