Could it be called ‘friendship’ whatever the two shared?
They had an unhortodoxbond between one another and though they
did things that ‘normal friends’ did, Jason and Pagan both shared those
moments where they could be seen as psychos getting along,though
the dictator wasn’t complaining because he the company that came
with being considered a friend and then the advantage of having a
trained killer on his side, taking care of the terrorists on his behalf.
Things were different from the jungle but Brody seemed to have
adapted to his new environment quite nicely, perhaps the only real
change had been the temperature because he was still surrounded
by the vicious wildlife and the same bloodshed as he could have
found in the thick nature of the island. Min knew what he had in his
hand and would never turn that against him, he provided Jason with
shelter, food, security and entertainment and to him, that was the best
way to show the warrior that he considered him (at least) his ally.
“I’ve seen an elephant take care of an entire outpost by himself.
Those things are dangerous, if we find one then we won’t even
need to do anything. Still, we could take a sniper rifle or two.”
In all honesty, Jason didn’t consider himself a psychopath.
If anything, he preferred to be called a sociopath — though, any
word ending with ‘path’ generally left a bad taste on his tongue.
Besides, the killing was therapeutic to the American; he’d gotten
so used to it that when he had his violent energy all pent up, he
got snappy and unpredictable, and it was just better to utilize his
craving for blood; especially in situations where it actually helped
— like now. It was easier to live normally yet incorporate the entire
murder thing into his daily life when he had a friend like Pagan, with
mutual interests. That’s what makes friends, isn’t it? At least, that’s
how Jason saw it. He didn’t mind what it was called. It was fun, and
beneficial, so that’s all that really mattered.
Indeed, there was barely a change in the new atmosphere, here.
It was still all the same; all the violence, the war, factions against
factions with lies and deceit laced deep through it all. He didn’t care
for the entire manipulation thing, after what he’d went through on the
islands, so he steered clear of it and stuck to what he knew — murder.
The warrior stayed to the one side that he knew wasn’t using him (even
though he never was very good at being able to tell), and he hadn’t yet
been coerced into donating to the local 'impregnate the leader’ fund, so,
he deemed this fine, absolutely fucking dandy.
‘ Shit. I mean, I know elephants are capable of
damage, but damn. We should take some C4
or mines or something, too. Blowing shit up is
probably the best part. ’