Boca--intro???
I woke up yelling her name and completely covered in sweat; it was the same damn nightmare again, the one I've had ever night since her death. I looked around to get my bearings and realized I was at home, in our bedroom. Well not our bedroom, my bedroom. She’s dead…gone. It’s my fault, I didn’t double check everything to make sure we weren’t going into a trap; she was dead because of me.
I had to deal with a grief counselor every other day for two months; it was mid February by the time I had finally convinced the stupid shrink to let me go back to work. It wasn’t helping at all at first, but I slowly realized that maybe the entire thing wasn’t my fault and that it was meant to happen. Things happen for a reason. That’s what the shrink kept telling me. When I asked him for the reason he said he wasn’t the one holding all the cards, he didn’t know. Lot of help he was. In the end though, it was a good thing. I still miss her, not a day goes by where it doesn’t hurt, but at least now the pain is manageable.
I’m not quite up to strength yet, because whatever the hell it was that attacked me did a number on my body, I’ve got scars all over my body, but it makes for a good war story right? I spent a week in a coma at the hospital while the doctors stitched me up and checked on my wounds before I woke up and then spent the rest of December in the hospital under the strict supervision of Doctor.
However, now it’s time for me to go back to work and figure out what the hell happened and what killed my wife.
I got out of bed and started the hot water and shaved and began my normal routine. I finished my shower and got dressed and headed towards the base, I didn't need to come in, but I wasn't resting until the hostile that had taken away my wife was dead. And I was the one to kill it. I had Graham running down some leads for me, and it was time to check to see what he’s gotten so far.
Everyone was staying clear for me for the most part, not that I blame them entirely; I wouldn’t know what to say to me either. However, Graham, good ole-Graham is straight to business as he hands me the folder with all the information he could find. I thank him and then look over the information, there’s nothing here that’s any good. I’m going to have to start all over and build my own case.
A year goes by and I’m finally almost there to figuring out what happened to Sam.