Hudson, once again, never gave us a moment of rest. It was always one mission right after the other. The only time we were ever really given rest was when we were kidnapped, shot, or in the middle of a mission itself. Being away from the States was just the norm for me now.
Despite this, I think I am drawing to the end of this chapter of my life. I want to be out. I got a kid now. Little bastard just turned 10 a couple months ago and the time is only flying away from me. I can't keep relying on my sisters to watch over him while I am out here doing God knows what every other week. I just need some time away, some time to really spend with him back home.
Still, the mission must go on. We had just split up to follow Hudson's directive as we were handling Noriega since he has intel on a Nexus target. At the time, I was just following orders like I had always done. Nothing was new and it was a simple split from Woods as he would handle Noriega and I would go to confirm that the Nexus target was still present. I had never figured that Hudson was compromised and that Noriega would have taken control of the men that Hudson had sent. Really it was all Hudson's fault at the end of the day. Dumbass couldn't keep a squad together to save his life, not like he cared about saving mine anyway.
As I was joining up on them, I took a rifle butt to the back of the head. While I would normally be able to shrug this off, this was after fighting through an entire city with frags flying overhead the entire time. Really does a number on the head with the amount of concussive blasts that I had to endure during that shitshow of an extraction mission turned hostage deal.
This brings me to now. A bag over my head as I struggle against the two guys that have my hands tied behind my back, rope digging into my wrists as I struggle against the rope and them.
"Let me go motherfukers! I swear I will kick the living shit out of you when I get this rope off my hands!" I said into the hood over my face. My voice, dimmed by the bag itself, and the sound of my heart beating in my ears.
"Silly American thinks he can get away free. Wait till you see what Mr. Menendez has in store for you and your child."
Not enough time is given to me to really process through what this dickwad just said as a bullet slams squarely into my shoulder, knocking me off my feet despite them attempting to hold me still. While I am grateful that the bullet missed, a second bullet hit my stomach. Sadly, this does not lead to many promising futures. Asshole must have wanted to finish the job and is just a piss poor shot, or it is all about the immense suffering that I am having to feel right now as I slowly bleed out on the gravel.
Still, the suffering does not end as I am dragged across the gravel, what I can only guess is a couple dozen feet, until I am propped up against some sort of wall. Heat licks my face as I hear the quiet sobbing of a voice all too familiar to me.
"David…? Is… is that you?"
"Dad? DAD!"
Immediately, I know things could not get worse than this. My son, someone that should have been safe back home with my sister, is now here in front of me, in the middle of Panama, where there are enemies all around us.
"Mason! They got you too? Fucking hell!"
"Hudson? You're the one who put me here you asshole! The whole reason I am bleeding out is because of you!"
Suddenly, the bag is ripped off my head and the world spins back into focus as my eyes attempt to adjust to the light. Tied to a chair, hands bound along the arm rests and feet tied to the legs, Hudson sits. His uniform from the mission ripped in multiple places and his face is caked with the black camo paint that has seen better days. Cuts appear along his face as he sports a black eye swelling around the right half of his face. Across from me, tied to a pole similar to the apparent pole that I rest against is my son, David. Tears are streaming down his face as he looks at me. He tugs against his restraints in an attempt to draw closer to me.
"It's okay David. It will all be okay. Just look at me." His eyes level with mine as I talk to him. Fear is all that I can in his eyes as then glisten with tears that fall out and stream down his dirtied face. Sadly, reassurement is not something that can be given at this moment as Menendez walks in dragging a bloodied and broken Woods with him. Armed with a shotgun, he tosses him into the middle of us all, his own little display of brutality that shuts up the room from the few words that were attempting to be spoken.Alive, but heavily injured, Woods groggily looks around the room to find us all staring back at him.
"You all must learn. Even now, you talk and act like everything will be well. Like you are not supposed to suffer. YOU MUST! You will learn to suffer as I have!" Menendez shouts at us. Racking the shotgun in his hands, he slowly points it at each one of us. "Choose. Two of you will die and two of you will live, even if you live as a waste of space for the rest of your life." He spits at us before spitting on Woods, making sure that we understand who the waste of space will end up being.
"Finish the job you fucker!" Woods shouts at him. The venom in his voice is biting and full of pain since his knees are practically gone. The lower half of his legs hang on as blood soaked messes.
"No. You need to suffer. You Americans took it all from me and you shall be the one to suffer from now on. You and the boy will live." He aims the gun at Hudson and pulls the trigger, planting his head upon the wall and floor behind him. Brain matter splatters through the air and blood lands on me from the force of the shot. He racks another round as the gun is aimed in my direction. "As I had my father, my mother, my sister taken from me, so too, shall you have those around you taken. Live with the pain, and know the suffering you have inflicted on me!"
I look at David and mouth, "I love you."
Then, there is the darkness.