“They’re not the ones fighting here, we should make the profits.”
Nasreen Davar really isn’t a nice woman. I can’t judge, I’ve done some terrible things myself, I’ve killed people, a lot of people. For money. Because I had to. Because I could. She’s saved my life more than once, and I’ve returned the favour; and yeah, maybe I’m a little attracted to her. I’ve been here for fifteen days, already gained quite a reputation, and she’s the only women I’ve met so cut me some slack, yeah?
This place changes you, Africa. It’s beautiful, it’s deadly. It doesn’t want me here and takes pains to let me know that every chance it gets. I’ve barely met a dozen people who didn’t want to kill me for one reason or another. I’m fine with that, survival of the fittest, law of the jungle. I’m better than most of them, I must be I’m still breathing.
The same can’t be said for Frank Bilders, lying in the gutter somewhere with half his head missing. My doing. Desert Eagle at point blank range. He’s asked for it, literally. I’d fucked up and got him shot, I could have saved him but I’d taken that last dose of morphine for myself. I hadn’t needed it, I could have kept going, I’d put my needs above his and he suffered for it. Sure neither of us are saints but he was a funny guy, and he had my back when I needed it. In the end all I could do for him was make it quick, he’d earn that much.
I went it bit mad after that, carved up some guy with a machete because he’d been foolish enough to be looking the wrong way. Was that revenge for Frank or just something to sate my own growing blood lust? I need to get out of this country, back to Israel, back to some semblance of civilisation. Do I even know what such a thing is any more? He’s right, The Jackal, war isn’t noble, life isn’t noble. It’s solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short. That guy Hobbes knew what he was talking about, this place is bellum omnium contra omnes writ large.
So maybe The Jackal is onto something, doesn’t mean I’m not going to put a bullet in his head, doesn’t mean I’m not going to enjoy it. I might have screwed up the first time, and second chances generally aren’t forthcoming, but somebody clearly wants him dead; they hired me for a reason, and I don’t come cheap. So yeah I’ll find him and I’ll kill him. I’m getting out of here, if it means I become a vicious bastard then I’ll do it. I don’t intend to end up like Frank.
I’m going home, whatever the cost, and fuck anybody who gets in my way. I mean what do I owe them?
3 replies on “Mercenary Behaviour.”
Great piece written from the perspective of your character. Captures the feel really well. I had a really long anecdote about one of my own experiences, but I’ll write it up proper and blog it.
Loving this game!
Interesting the way this parallels Heart of Darkness (and thus Apocalypse Now, of course). If I had time to play it, I’d like to write up something talking about how Far Cry 2 fits in with Conrad, Nietzsche, Spencer, Kropotkin, and the rest of the gang. Alas, I’m swamped with demands on my time, so I’ll just have to passive-aggressively pine for such an article or blog post to be written!
Thank you for returning my tapes, Paul. I would never have been able to finish my article without them. I am sorry for Frank, he was a good man, and, I know, a close friend you to. It is difficult here, but please – don’t lose yourself in this madness. Don’t become what you hunt.