Cod Ghosts Logan Walker Novels & Stories

Logan said. The gangsters removed their guns from their pockets and the threesome sauntered towards the entryway. “You have to be calm, Charlotte,” Logan said when the threesome got to the first room. They walked towards the entryway and Charles opened the door gently. As soon as Charles opened the door, they could see Lucas standing in front of them. Logan pointed the gun at Lucas and shot him. Lucas screamed, he staggered forwards and fell on the ground.

It took me a moment to process the sight. “Logan,” I muttered under my breath, barely able to believe it. Logan Grey, a rogue and former pack member who had been banished for betraying Silverwood years ago. And here he was, walking back in like he owned the place. “I heard there was a meeting of the alphas,” he said, his voice carrying a confident, almost mocking edge. His gaze fell on me, and he smirked. “And I thought I’d drop in to see my old… family.”

She is the perfect amound of chaos and peace. -r.h. Sin. | Z Y R A | "Your lips look lonely would they like to meet mine?" The fuck. I turned around to look at the owner of the voice only to come face to face with the manwhore of the team. Logan Walker. "Ex-fucking-cuse me?" I was already pissed after dealing with two assholes today and god just keeps adding in it. "Are you a light switch cause you turn me on." He winked at me, still keeping his stupid pick up lines. I take he is not good in reading obvious facial expressions.

His face in the car window, battered and bruised and carrying the expression of a man who wants to say something enormous and knows he’s lost the right. “Thirty minutes, Nathaniel.” I close the door and cross the lot. My boots crunch on frozen gravel, and the sound is the only thing in the world besides my own breathing. The warehouse entrance is a rusted side door that groans when I push it open, and the interior smells like old concrete and diesel. Logan is already there. He’s sitting on an overturned crate in the centre of the empty floor, surrounded by nothing. Just like me, he has no weapon or backup.

Right as he was speaking, the doors to another armored vehicle suddenly swung open, immediately catching our attention. As we gazed at the car, my heart pounding faster with expectations, a man with grey beard, black boots, and a black tailored suit stepped out. Unlike Edgar, his face seemed relaxed, almost like he was excited to be here. As soon as I saw him, I immediately recognized him. This was George Logan, the man responsible for pulling the trigger on Lydia’s death. Finally, I could taste revenge, and without wasting any time, I quickly retrieved my phone and sent the message. In a few moments from now, he’d be begging for the same mercy he never showed us. “Do not waste your time exp

The two men looked more like giants to the rest of the men because of their muscular features, but their prey seemed to be more natural, and real, he was taller, larger and looked younger. "I have chased you for years, Logan, you have given the CIA a tough time, and me too…" the man said as cold smoke poured out with his words. "I'm not a bad guy, Twain! And you know that!" Logan muttered through clenched teeth. His words were evenly stressed, musical you could say; a typical irish accent. His words seemed to have stricken a nerve, "But you're the damn God-father! you are at the top but leave your cartels and all the mafian clans under you to carry out the dirty works…" he retorted.

As a thriller writer, I was perceptive to these kinds of things. He switched the trash bag to his left. The guy extended his right hand. “I’m Logan McCoy.” His hand was long, fair, and well-defined at the joints. All my mind could picture was the possibly blood in that hand. I didn’t return the handshake. The very thought terrified me. “I-I’m Eden Cargill.” Snapping my head down in a fluster, I shied away from his gaze. “Um… I have lots to unpack. Excuse me.”

The manager stammered, "I... I thought it was an antique. I had seen a similar relic in the archives. But once I measured it, I realized it was a mere common piece. I am no longer interested." She took a sharp breath, trying to reclaim her ground. "Now, begone. We have trades to settle. Guards, escort her out." But her scent was reeking of guilt now. The guards closed in on me, ready to throw me into the street. "How dare you show such arrogance after stealing my mate’s legacy?" A voice like a winter storm rumbled from the doorway. I whirled around, stunned. Logan was standing there, a mountain of dark energy in a gray shirt and black trousers, his jacket gripped in one hand.

” Here he goes again; Logan is a hot-tempered werewolf who doesn’t know the limit of his anger. “We apologize, but the raided criminals from yesterday have escaped from the dungeon,” they dropped the threatening news. “What do you mean by escape?!” I punched the table aggressively, breaking it into tiny pieces. Those guards started trembling as if I’ll smash them. They must not have gone so far; if I head now, I’ll be able to track down their scents. “Leave it to me, Alpha,” Logan reported and rushed outside with the guards.

Harrison said. “No. I came here to do the job, and that is what I am going to do. This won't be the first time I have to fight my emotions to complete a mission,” Hayden said. “Besides, I’m a rogue. Chances are she will reject me, so it won’t matter.” “I can swear you back into the pack. I’ll do it right here and now if you have a knife on you,” Harrison offered.