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I didn’t notice that I was shot until I had already fallen to the ground on my side. When I look down is when I see the blood starting to come out of my chest cavity.
I watch as the man who shot me smirks and walks away. And I wasn’t able save Joe. I’m going to die out here in the fucking desert and for what?
But then again this job only even invades the inedible. The most common death as a CIA officer is getting kidnapped or separated and I got separated from the others. By the time they find me I’ll probably already be bleed out onto the sand.
But what does it matter? Everyone dies in vain. At least that’s what I belive. You can belive what you want but I know the truth.
Nothing you do matters. Surly nothing I’ve ever done does.
Guess that’s why they say life is a gamble. Too bad I’ve always sucked at gambling. If I was good at it then maybe I would have won this round.
I roll over so I’m on my back staring up at the ruthless sun as it glares down on me.
I bet it’s sunny in DC. I swear the state around it is always getting rain but for whatever reason DC seems immune to it.
Funny what you think about when your dying isn’t it?
I feel blood begin to come out of the corners of my mouth and I’ve been around long enough to know that that’s never a good thing.
But my mind begins to drift again. To the letter in my desk drawer at home meant for my wife. She knows it’s there. She knows she can only read it after my death.
I’ve always hoped that if something happens to me that she would move on. She deserves that. She’s a good women. Better then what I deserve. That’s for sure.
I just really hope the others find Joe. They want me dead. Fine. Fair enough. But her? They don’t want her dead. They only want to know what she knows. Then once they finish with her they’ll kill her.
So really she’s the priority right now.
My mind once again drifts off to my wife as my eyes begin to grow heavy.
About how she looks in the dim bedroom light with the moon light coming in through the window shining off her hair. God, I miss her. I always miss her.
I wish she could be here to hold my hand right now, but she isn’t.
She’s safer back in DC. Safer there then here. Always safer.
I remember all the times she’s placed a hand on my cheek then smile before kissing me. And all those times we’d end up at a karaoke night when we were in our twenties and sing off key to songs neither of us really knew.
Just two dumb kids having fun. I wish we did that more as we got older.
I’ve killed people yes, but if it meant having her I’d do it all again. But i would also give it all up just to see her again.
That’s the thing about what I do. You don’t know when you’re going to die, but when you start dying it hits you like a train.
My breath and my heart are both stuttering now and I know there is no one coming.
So i might as well close my eyes and go to sleep.
