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In hindsight, he should have seen this coming. 

As a young man, Isam had thrown himself into his work. When he joined the Afghan Armed Forces, he was nothing but a farm boy, stricken with poverty and misfortune. Some things didn't change. He was a hard worker, and that's what gained him attention from his officers. He didn't have a social life to distract him: no family, no lady at home, no kids. When the other men went into town to drink and screw around with escorts, Isam was busy at work. It was a coping mechanism. 

He never really noticed his lack of desire towards the women that often threw themselves at his unit, knowing that they would have money to pay for their services. Others did, but they probably figured it went along with his reclusive personality. A few years in, Isam sported the title Second Lieutenant. Shortly after his promotion, he met Amid. 

Amid was a Captain, and possibly just as broken as him. They bonded over their shared past: a home town that was destroyed by evil, greedy men; a childhood stolen. If Isam was smart, he would have ignored the feeling of hope Amid instilled in him. But each time they spoke, the man tugged at his heart more and more. At least the feeling was mutual. 

They kept their growing relationship under wraps for three years. They were both well liked, valued members of the unit. Their men didn't [i]want[/i] to believe the rumors. However, that ended when Amid punished one particularly disruptive private. The new recruit was defiant, and sought to discredit the Captain. He was looking for dirt on Amid when he stumbled upon them, and quickly went to report their crime. 

The men were outraged. How could they do this? How could they defy their beliefs? It was startling how quickly the unit turned on them. Amid tried to regain control, but he was no longer their Captain in their eyes. They were beaten on the spot, then bound, dragged out into the blazing desert, and beaten some more. Isam couldn't remember most of it. He remembered pain, the scorching dirt on his skin, and the pleas of Amid as the life was torn from him. If Isam hadn't have lost consciousness, they probably would have shot [i]him[/i] too. 

The next thing he knew, he awoke in a tent. A white man he didn't recognize stood over him, speaking to another. Isam spoke good English, as he had served as a translator for his unit. They were discussing what to do with him. Should they take him back to his own people? Should they take him to the nearest town? They assumed that he and his partner had been ambushed by insurgents. When Isam was able to speak, he protested being taken back, but refused to say why. He offered a deal: he would be their translator if they would let him live. His loyalty to his own people was broken when they killed the one person he loved. 

The mercenaries had agreed to this deal, and over time, Isam proved his worth. They were amazed by his uncanny ability to pick up any weapon and use it like it was an extension of his own arm. After a few months, it was suggested that he go to Camp Sunshine to be properly initiated into the Sundown Company, whom they worked for. It didn't sound like a bad idea; maybe even a second chance. 

That was how Isam found himself on a rusted out bus in the middle of the jungle. He remained silent throughout the trip, and when they unloaded, he quietly listened to the man named Joe speak. Once the crowd around the bulletin had dispersed, he approached, found his tent, and headed that way. 

Isam didn't have much. His duffel bag contained a couple changes of clothes, a comb, toothbrush, and a few other essentials. All of his worldly belongings. He approached tent A and shoved the canvas flap aside to step in. There was another man there, whom he silently nodded to, and then tossed his bag down on the nearest cot.