I can imagine how it is to live in constant fear, I really can. So can Audrey. So can these people here, who are living in a constant war, but who don't want to give up their homes and chose to stay and fight. They've made the little campfires among the ruins and were sitting all together. The men on one side, some of them drinking alcohol, some were playing cards, the women on the other side, busily preparing something to eat, improvising with the things they still had.

I sit a few yards away, in the back, together with Audrey. We're the only couple sitting together, but nobody cares. They know that we don't really have anyone else to talk to. Sabir and the two other guys who speak English good enough already talked to me. When I told them that I had been on a rescue mission throughout the past months and hadn't had contact with anyone in the area here nor in Serbia, they already lost their interest – no news they could get out of me. Everything is already settled for our transport tomorrow. They'll smuggle us in a truck full of oranges tomorrow morning, then we can finally leave this awful place behind.

I glance sidelong at Audrey, she's eating Turkish pita bread and she seems to enjoy it. The women around here are really treating her nicely, probably because they have gagged her and cuffed her up earlier and want to apologize somehow.

There's a second flat loaf of bread still on the plate, for me. I should really eat something, even though I'm not hungry. I haven't really eaten much in days, probably the stress of constantly going through enemy terrain. Kazakhstan, Azerbaijan, Armenia. The Russian border is still less than 100 kilometers away. The Russian mercenaries who we fought earlier are maybe just on the other side of the valley, sitting together like we are.

Eat. Try to relax. Try to get a few bites down.

Damn it.

I can't get them out of my mind, even though I try. I've thrown my bloody jacket away, washed my face, hands, hair but that blood of this Russian mercenary who I slaughtered just an hour ago doesn't seem to go away. They are over there. They could come back any minute. Within seconds, a rocket could hit us all.

Jack?

Audrey's voice makes me stir. She's staring at me, she looks worried, too.

Not good?, she asks, pointing at the pita bread that is still in my hands.

I'm not hungry … Do you want it?
She slightly shakes her head and her eyes ask me, louder than her mouth could ever ask, what's wrong. Damn it. I can't put that into words, what's going through my head over and over again.

What's wrong…, she silently asks, not louder than a whisper.

I already want to tell her that 'nothing is wrong', but it would be a big lie. We're in the middle of a war, in a hostile region, and wherever we go, they'll either want to kill us or sell us out to someone who will. We're dammed to fight, but there's no backup, not even a backup plan. I'm out of money, I have to rely on my mafia contacts and that always bears a risk. With Audrey at my side, the risk even doubles.

Jack?, she asks again.

These eyes. Damn, I love these eyes. It feels like she's looking directly into my soul, deeper than anyone else could have ever looked. Do you want me to tell you that everything is okay?, I ask her, sliding a little bit closer to her so we can talk without anyone listening. I don't wanna be here. Not one second longer.

You said you were here before, she adds and leans against my shoulder.

That was without you. I put my arm around her and pull her closer. In the past years, I've really been here sometimes, bringing weapons, even fighting side by side with these men. These mercenaries were welcome targets to let some rage out. No matter if we were less equipped and less people – we all had a strong reason to fight them, even though the reason of these men was quite different from mine. The first Russian mercenary, who I've killed here… that was about two years ago. I had thought that I'd be over the things which happened in New York, but I obviously wasn't.

I let my rage out on some guy… earlier.

They guy who's blood was all over you?

Yes. I gutted him. He's not the first one. His warm blood gushed over my hands… didn't even stop when it was already obvious he had to be dead.

Do you feel better now?

Do I? No.

We sit in silence for a while. Finally, I tell her about it and about the times I've been here before, letting my rage out on the battlefield. Going there, you believe it might make things better. But once you're standing there, blood on your hands, adrenaline in your veins, you feel nothing at all. Maybe it's a body reaction, switching off your mind when you fight for life and death, because otherwise you'll not be able to do things like these.
Then it's over… you go home, and nothing has changed. It hasn't made it better. Letting the rage out hasn't done anything good. The previous problems you already had are still there, and now you can just try to keep that state of empty mindedness, because otherwise you'll need to face your previous problems and the new disgusting memories that you just created.

Audrey just sits there and listens. I envy these guys, I add. They're sitting over there, some of them drinking, some others playing cards. It's all just superficial distraction, aimed at the prolonging of the state of blissful emptiness in one's mind. They'll just keep it up until the next battle comes and then they go again.

They can do that forever, she remarks.

Yes.

At one point, it has to end.

I know.

She nudges me slightly, making me look into her eyes. When does it end?, she asks.

Her eyes are so beautiful, damn. The part of the niqab covering her face has become loose during the rough last hours. It's dangling loosely at her chin, revealing more of her face than I wanted anyone around here to see. A few of her blonde strands have come out, too, revealing that she's definitely not one of the usual wearers of such a piece of clothing. Thank god it's so dark here. They couldn't care less about her and that's good. We're sitting somewhere in the back, where it's even darker, only the camp fire lights up our features a little.
When does it end? When did it ever end, the spiral of brutality and blood, that I've been caught up in, for the past thirty years? She's expecting an answer.

It hurts, when you look into the eyes of a loved one.

Why? Her voice is shaky.

Because it breaks the emptiness that you so much tried to protect. There were times when I came home to Teri… and after arriving I just wanted to leave again, because when this wall breaks, and you let all the memories of things that you did into your life… if you run away fast enough, if there are enough distractions, you might go back before you realize what you've actually done.

I've brought so much pain into this world. I've killed so many people, no matter if they deserved it or not – just too many.

This doesn't sound like it ended, Audrey says.

It didn't.

So, when does it end?, she silently asks.

I look over to the men around the campfire. I know when their endless spiral of war, blood and aggression will end. It ends when you get defeated. Rehab. China. Russian prison. These were the points when I had to pay for everything that I had done.

Audrey forces me to look at her again, Can't you just stop it?, she asks.

How? I have a look at my wrist watch and grab the machine gun which is lying next to me, to check it. In twenty minutes my shift starts, we take turns watching the main road. The magazine is half empty, but I grabbed a pack of ammunition earlier. Time to fill up.
I don't think it is my hands to stop what I have to do.

Audrey slightly nods. I hope she understands what I'm trying to tell her: that I don't want to be a part of this war, but we're in the middle of it. We're not asked if we want to be here, we just have to do what we can to survive and to get away from here. It won't be so much better on the rest of our run. I'll keep doing illegal stuff in return for transport. This won't end.
In silence, we're sitting next to each other, while I refill the rest of one of my magazines. Hopefully she understands that I'll never be able to break this everlasting circle.

Later, as my shift starts, she tags along as I head over to the outpost at the road. She doesn't want to be alone and even though I don't want her to be here, in this bombed out building, among walls of sandbags, I just don't have the heart to send her back over to that group of strangers, where she can't talk to anyone and will sit in the cold, alone.

Most of the time, we're silent.
I'm in position, the gun ready to fire any second. There is only darkness out there. I'm not sure if I'd even see them coming before it was already too late.

Audrey is just over there, curled up in a ball in the safest corner I could find for her.

I don't wanna be here, I say, looking down the black barrel, not louder than a whisper. No matter if she's heard it or not, she knows. I can't get the things out of my mind, that we've been talking about.
This is what kills people. Having a heart and questioning what you're about to do, when you lie there with a gun at the ready. If anyone comes, I'll pull the trigger. I won't think twice. I won't regret it, no matter who I hit.

Damn it, no. I will regret.

I'll do it anyway.