Kуlе Gaz Garrick

With each new year, with each new mission, darkness enveloped Kyle's thoughts.

Moral dilemmas. Follow orders or follow the dictates of the heart? Or maybe the mind? Save a man's life or kill an enemy? Who is right, who is guilty? Is he guilty? Is he sinful? ...

Utility problems. They didn't promote him. They cut his salary for disciplinary action. It's barely enough even for an apartment. And he still needs to eat something, pay off his friends' debts ...

Family matters. "Stop messing around, Kyle." "It's time for you to have your own family, Kyle." "Do you have a daughter-in-law?" "I hope you're not one of those guys who's after boys?" "Give up this army of yours and find a normal job." "You didn't even finish your studies properly, you good-for-nothing. You're just bringing shame on your family!"

Kyle staggered and braced his hands on the sink, lowering his head down. It was hard to breathe, his lungs were literally constricting. His whole body was covered in sweat. His brain seemed to be pulsating, beating from inside his skull. He raised his glassy eyes and looked into the mirror. The corners of his lips curled slightly downwards in self-disgust and he lowered his gaze again. His vision was starting to blur and double, and nausea was rising in his throat.

A shudder ran through his entire body. Gaz's entire body arched for a second. Spew splashed the white sink, droplets of saliva continued to follow it from his lips. His legs felt like cotton wool, every muscle in his body was rapidly contracting in spasms. If it weren't for the sink, he would have already been lying on the damn tiles of the small rented one-room apartment. An empty bottle of cheap champagne was lying on the kitchen table, a half-smoked joint was smoking nearby.

Kyle swallowed hard once again and literally fell out into the hallway, leaning on the walls, collecting every corner, all the furniture. But still remaining conscious, he heard the sound of a key turning in the door.