Listening to the man Warner felt a pang of regret for the way he snapped at him. Examination of his body and the rifle along with the victuals were all signs of friendliness. The rifle was impractical though even causing the Marine  to wonder how the man got the ammo. This wasn't standard issue nor was it that common before the Fall. Catching the massive round as it popped out the ejection port Warner rolled it in his fingers feeling the brass. Why the Fall? He didn't know why he nicknamed the event in such a way. Maybe it was because he did consider it the Fall of civilization, the end of everything that he cared for.<br/><br/>Setting the rifle down in his lap the Marine stared at the large point fifty Beowulf cartridge in his hand. Under the lights the brass glinted as it moved. Furrowing his brow he closed his eyes as images came flashing past his minds screen. A device called Hot Eagle, a mission to retake a US Embassy shortly after the merging of NASA and the Air Force.  Smell of scrabble pie that wafted in the room made him long for home. Wife's laughter faintly rang in his ear making his face contort in painful recollection.<br/><br/>Setting the bullet down in the table on top of his uniform Warner poured some sweet tea into the nearby glass. Looking over at the boots he smirked and glanced up at the man. Disturbed by the mask he tried to put that out of his mind but it bothered him so he avoided looking at it. Finding the whole mask wearing thing something more suited for a BDSM dungeon then a business. Sipping the sweet tea Warner let out a soft groan, fighting tears as those painful memories came back.<br/><br/>"I apologize, I've been under a lot of stress lately sir." Warner wiped his slightly watered eyes catching the man's eye. "You're the first decent person I've run into in this harsh wasteland. In fact as I speak I bet they are pawning off Betty and jerking off to pictures of my wife. Not to mention the things that weird screw head must of done to her. I shudder at what they did to her..."  Pulling the pie off he began to take bites of it, fighting the pain that it brought. "Betty is my M-ATV er my vehicle. Thank for the hospitality sir, I am surprised you bothered to stick me up. Most would just loot me and leave me baking. However everything comes at a cost sir, I must ask what is my price Mr...what is your name?"<br/><br/>Even though he accepted the food Warner was exactly at ease. This man had a agenda and he was afraid he would be dragged into some kind of Hold squabble.  Which is something Warner wanted to avoid as it wasn't in the mission parameters. At least not until his superiors were awake. Till then it was all on his shoulders, the fate of the operation. Below him the bed beckoned him to just give up and sleep forever. He fought it though because he was a Marine, he wouldn't give up until he was six feet under.<br/><br/>"By the way sir, your rifle is very interesting. I must question the practicality of the caliber but nevertheless a fine rifle. Well kept and maintained. Nothing like my Lucille but she's something."  A pained expression appeared on his face, there was a lot of that in the past few minutes. "Lucille...Mary..." Fork clattered on the plate as he remembered tears began streaming down his face. A immense feeling of uselessness washed over him. Nothing he could do to fight the emotions roiling over his body. Holding his hands up Warner tried to conceal the weakness but it couldn't be clearer. This was a man who was at his end, a man who was running out steam, a man plagued by nightmares and many sleepless nights. All in a attempt to try to save hundreds of people who counted on him alone. Lips began to mutter something that sounded like a religious text.<br/><br/>"Before God, I swear this creed..." It trailed off as the crying stopped, it seemed the dam was plugged for the time being. Warner looked embarrassed at the breakdown as he used the sheet to clean his face. "Sorry sir."