Who Cares?

And now for something completely different - a very brief piece about the kind of Delta Green agent who is either perfect for the job or a long term problem, depending on how screwy your moral compass is.

Who Cares?

That’s what I told my parents when we argued about me joining the Army. You’re just going to get killed for some rich arseholes in a country no one cares about, they said. Didn’t stop me from signing up. Figured serving an arsehole with a gun would be better than serving some arsehole with a corner office. God I was young and stupid.

Who’s going to care?

That’s what the Colonel said when we told him there were civilians in the strike zone. The target was worth a few dead civilians, and besides, in this war who would notice? We told ourselves that repeatedly for the rest of that deployment.

No one cares.

That’s what the trainers at Fort Bragg told anyone who griped about the strain repeated deployments put on their lives. We exist to deal with problems, not make them. Men who couldn’t accept that didn’t last long.

I don’t care.

That’s what I told a problem in Libya who was begging for his life. If you don’t want to die, don’t take up a fight. Don’t become a problem. Don’t care.

Nobody fucking cares.

That’s what I told myself for 6 months after the disaster in Miller Peak. 4 Delta Force operatives dead because some Cartel fucker knew the words to turn the air to blood. Not ashamed to say that bastard ate a hundred rounds after he seemingly stopped moving.

We care.

That’s what the old dude in the suit said after I got discharged. Said that just because most government staff don’t know how weird the world gets, it doesn’t mean they all don’t know. Got me moving again, got me focused. Stopped me from becoming a problem.  

We have to care.

That’s what Agent Thomas told me when I chewed him out for saving a couple of kids instead of going after the sorcerer who kidnapped them. Said there was no point fighting for humanity if we couldn’t save any of it. Optimistic young bastard, but he grows on you.

I care.

It’s the lie I told Thomas while he was bleeding out after a ghoul tore his stomach open. He believed it though. Died with a half-smile on his face, thinking I was actually going to tell his parents what happened. Hope there’s no afterlife – he probably wouldn’t be happy with me dumping his body in coyote country and calling it a wildlife accident.

When Adam told me that there wasn’t any support nearby, and that going after that ghoul family alone was suicide, I only had two words for him:

Who cares?