Phoenix in the Light

Night War

Writers Note: Jamie's arc is so fucking fun to write. Molding her into a little soulless character just ready to release all that female rage. I'm so excited for the next few chapters before I start filtering in MW3's story.

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I did exactly as Ghost had asked of me, and I did it because I didn't have a doubt that he meant his threat to me. What I saw in the moments after he left that room, was a broken man with only vendetta on his mind. The Simon I had fallen for, the Simon that I dared myself to say that I loved... he was no longer there. His mask had become him, Ghost had taken complete possession.

    For the next sixteen days, I only saw him one time and that was in passing at the range on my way to another sniper lesson with Soap. He hadn't even the common decency to look at me, treating me like I didn't even exist. Trying not to picture him with another woman became a near constant battle and between that, field medical training, sniper lessons, demolitions studying, and still trying to heal the broken parts of my body, I had very little time to be worrying about whether or not Ghost was looking at me still. But I still did.

    I wanted to see him tell the truth, I wanted to know where that man who had kissed me under the spruce trees of Kootenai and told me that he had essentially released Ghost all together and could only be Simon when he was with me. The night in the barracks, I had seen it flash in his eyes... just the memories of what happened that day, the sadness he felt when he had to leave me. It was there, that dejected look hidden behind rage and lust and drunkenness. I knew it was in there somewhere, deeply stowed away under the cells of his skin and under the layers of scar tissue. His hatred for me was a simple protection strategy. My pushing on that protective wall had made him lethal towards me. I guess that's what I get for coming back at all.

    It had been early on a Saturday morning when Laswell and another blond-haired woman invited themselves into my barracks room. She brought a whole tool chest of drawing utensils and paper, and I curiously watched her set up her kit on my desk.

    The sketch artist and I sat in that room for hours, going over every single detail of the scarf man's face. From the way that his eyes were set too far apart, the way his cheeks puffed out into light jowls but he still looked young. Dark blond hair with bushy eyebrows that covered his eyes in a shadow, and a bottom lip that completely engulfed his upper lip. I described how his chin was set wide, and square and his nose was large but lay flat against his face.

    It took her a few tries to get it right, but in the end she was able to pull together the features and sew his face together. Scarf man came to life in her drawing, and he came to life in my nightmares as well. For the next sixteen nights, all I dreamed of when I could sleep was that tile on the roof of my hospital bed. I would early into the morning, screaming to get the restraints off of me, crying when his face would linger over my dying body. I would go to the common area, wondering if Ghost was also within the walls of the women's barracks, if we would find each other wafting through the smell of freshly made coffee.

    But he was never there, and some part of me was thankful for that fact and another part of me was completely disappointed. First, he had condemned me to death by way of wishing I still was, but now he condemned me to death by threatening my life. I believed him, but I was not scared of him. If I showed him that I was scared he would get exactly what he wanted out of me, for me to run away from him and from this team. For me to be out of his sight and mind. But I had a mission to finish and a bullet with a name on. What Ghost wanted out of me was irrelevant.

    The sky had just begun to turn blue from the sun rising when there was a soft knock on my room door. I instinctively reached for the knife in my pack, I could never be too cautious with people around me threatening to kill me. But upon opening the door, I found Kate Laswell waiting for me. I shoved the knife into the back of my night pants.