Trautman stood silently looking at his man – Carl 'Grizzly' Jorgenson – one last time.
The doctors didn’t even think He’d have made it through surgery for his brain haematoma actually. Yet, several hours later, private Jorgenson was still, and would be for some time, on the verge of dying.
That night however, if God was willing, his pointless and long felt agony would have finally ended.
Jorgenson, Carl: twenty-four years of age, a wife and daughter.
Trautman had gotten to know him very well during his last two years of training in Fort Bragg.
In fact he may know him a little too well for his own liking.
Jorgenson enlisted in the Special Forces and Secret Services explicitly to support his wife and daughter. Seeing that he wasn’t well off and his wife's father was a general, her family had cut all ties after they got married. In the end, maintaining his family was the real reason why Jorgenson joined the SOG.
Money alone however wasn’t usually a good enough reason to do that kind of job.
Jorgenson had not only successfully made it through the selection process but had even turned out to be a very good soldier.
It was a shame that it all had to end like this.
A real stroke of bad luck.
Trautman swallowed.
The soldier was lying on the hospital bed, still unconscious and the colonel was sure he could see the pain he was in by the expression on his face.
Trautman had never personally met his wife or daughter, but He’d seen their photo, and after spending all those months in Fort Bragg with Jorgenson, it was as though they’d met.
They’ll be all right just the same – Trautman said to Jorgenson in his head as though the soldier could hear him. No matter where his soul happened to be right now while his body was there, dying slowly, he was sure he received his thoughts.
In any case, he really did believe that the soldier’s wife and daughter would have got on all right after his death.
Once Jorgenson passed away, general Williams would have certainly reconnected with his daughter and start providing for them both.
You made it anyway Carl – Trautman concluded.
He rubbed his face like someone does when they’re tired and need to wake up.
You made it all the same soldier.
Jorgenson mumbled and merely being there next to him was painful for the colonel.
You’re a weakling and a sentimentalist – Trautman thought to himself.
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other,
If I ever get this feeling in the wrong place or at the wrong time, it could affect my judgement.
I could end up making a mistake because of it, and my mistakes could get someone killed.
Trautman sighed.
I’ve got to learn to not feel anything.
I’ve got to learn to be stronger.
It was odd that he wasn’t able to be as strong as he needed to.
Jorgenson wasn’t the first man He’d lost like this (to agonizing pain), nor would it be the last for sure, and the colonel was fully aware of that.
Not many are lucky enough to die a quick painless death when at war.
One more – Trautman thought.
That’s another one Samuel. You’re the one responsible for the pain that poor guy is in right now.
Trautman knew he had to calm down, but he really couldn’t. He never should have gone there to see Jorgenson that last time.
Trautman lifted his top lip over his teeth almost as though he was about to growl.
He knew that feeling growing inside of him and summoned it up from a few years back.
It was the same one he’d felt the first time he killed someone.
Ryan.
That’s right, agent Ryan the CIA traitor.
Don't do it – he said to himself, while his hand moved towards his waist checking for the 1911 he always carried on his belt.
Just hang on a minute and think this through carefully before you do something you’ll regret.
He just couldn’t though.
Therefore, Trautman looked him in the face for the very last time, turned on his heels and left.