Field Log: 0004
Sergeant 1st Class Riley Caine
The medical officer took me outside today. She gave me my things and said I could leave. I know now that I misjudged her, though not in the way I thought I had. What I took for sympathy to a cause was simply empathy for my own poor state. I wish she’d just killed me when I’d asked her to, but there’s no point in bringing that up now.
I won’t lie, I did consider walking away – returning to the Coalition, a war hero again, surviving to return and fight another day, but I didn’t.
Korso, the man I’d admired and respected my entire life, threw me away like garbage, and all for what? So he could advance his agenda? I was getting to smart, he said, asking too many questions. “Just be glad you can die a hero son. You will be remembered.”
Sure, maybe I could have gone back, but knowing Korso he would never risk me talking about what he did and I’d be dead in a flash anyways. The more I think about it, the more I see that dying just lets him win. I won’t let him get away with using me, but I’ll be patient. I will design his demise the way he did mine and when it comes I want him to know that I was responsible for it – just like he made sure I knew before he pushed the detonator.
For now, here is a good place to keep my head down. A body missing out here in the swamps is nothing unusual, and the medical officer, Sierra, seems to have a soft spot for me. Maybe I can use that to my advantage.