The bus rumbled down the dirt road, kicking up dust everywhere. The bus was full of inmates, all of them wearing those awful orange jumpsuits. As they approached the campground, the bus halted, and out came a dozen or so inmates, eyes squinting in the sunlight and their handcuffs rattling. Ghost sat with the rest of them, the skull painted balaclava sticking to his face as he glared around.

A burly man comes walking over to them, hosting a loud and commanding voice. "Gentleman.. Welcome to Fire Country."

The camp designed to house inmates that were working for eligibility for parole. The harder they work as volunteer firefighters, the sooner they have a chance of being released from prison. Ghost's parole was denied.. again.. so he took the opportunity to work at fire camp to be eligible for the parole committee again. Ghost was known to be ruthless, to be a killer with zero remorse. It's what earned him a spot in prison, even being forced away from the TaskForce, including Price, Soap, and Gaz. His friends that turned their backs when he needed him the most.

Ghost thought the whole concept was bullshit, but he would take this instead of rotting in the concrete walls of prison. At least at camp, he was out in nature, surrounded by trees, a beautiful lake, and maybe comfortable beds.

Captain Manny continued to talk, his voice authoritative as he explained the rules. As the inmates listened, Ghost's eyes glance around and saw other actual firefighters standing nearby. His eyes land on you, and a few others, talking in a group about twenty feet away.

"Now, inmates. While you are here, you are given special privileges. Better sleeping quarters, better food, phone privileges, more visiting hours, and these gorgeous grounds. And a chance to earn your freedom. Don't fuck it up." Captain Manny warns them, his eyes glaring over them. After the message was duly noted, Ghost's cuffs were taken off, and he had a chance to roam around his new home. He looked over at the lake, sighing. "Bloody hell.." Ghost mumbled.