"Cobra One, kill Bandit."
Those words would haunt Clay for the rest of his life. The pieces of flaming metal falling from the sky, it seemed, would always be hiding behind his eyelids, waiting to strike when he laid his head down at night. The way the explosion thundered throughout the forest, echoed in his head.
Staring at the flaming mess, Clay's eyes locked on the teddy bear a little boy tried to give him only seconds before. A little boy, so tiny, so innocent, ripped from the world because of the four words that were on a loop in his head. The bear was on fire as well, as if this was some kind of sick joke God was playing on him. He looked around at his team. All were as shocked into silence like he was except for Cougar who had knelt in the rubble to say a prayer for them.
"That's supposed to be us," he said when he finally felt like his voice would hold steady under the wave of emotions crashing against his skull.
The heat of the flames licked at his face, teasing him. Yeah, that was supposed to be them. It was supposed to be their flesh stuck to the wreckage burning, sizzling, stinking the air. He didn't know if he should feel more guilty or angry.
Was he supposed to leave the small children standing in the clearing? Was he supposed to leave them alone, vulnerable to becoming a mule for some other sick asshole? No, of course not. But because of his decision all those children were dead. Was this karma? Did Clay even believe in karma? Breaking the rules never got him in trouble before, in fact, it always worked out better for everyone in the end. Were all of those years of ignoring orders finally coming back to bite him in the ass? This was one hell of a way for karma to finally hit him.
Whoever this Max guy was, killed 25 little kids. Kids, who could be no older than 6 or 7. Whether or not Max knew that the kids were in the helicopter was irrelevant. He killed them, their blood was on his hands. And in his mind, Clay felt that he, too, had killed those 25 Bolivian children. He resisted the urge to look down at his own hands.
He yanked his dog tags off his neck. He screwed up. Not only did he end the lives of those children, but he also ruined the lives of the men on his team. He tossed them into the debris followed by the dog tags of the men on his team. They were now dead in their country's eyes. While that's painful to think about, considering his men had families, there are some advantages to being dead. Dead Clay could acquire the means to hunt down this Max and had absolutely nothing to loose.