" Lugar, it's time." - The Saleka soldier.
Lugar was being held in a house as a friend to a Saleka soldier in Central Africa Republic. The country was in a state of pre-genocide and on the brink of civil war. Everyday their was retaliation or revenge between the Saleka and the anti-Balaka group.
" Are you sure?" - Lugar asked while poking his head out from his position in the home.
" Yes , you can not stay here anymore. I have been in contact with the French army and we have dedicated a route for you to go home. " - Said the soldier.
A sedan was waiting for them both on the corner of a street, about two blocks away. The soldier placed his hand as a covering on the head of Lugar as they quickly made their way down the road. There were many wounded civilians all over the streets. Doors were being flung open and shut up and down the housed area as people were coming and fleeing from the oncoming group of aggressors.
A missile tore apart an abandoned pharmacy building right above their heads. Looking down the alley Lugar could see a group of maybe fifteen hundred men marching into the city. Him and the Saleka soldier quickened their pace to the car.
"est-ce l'homme?" - One of the French army men was identifying Lugar as the American Navy Seal that he was informed of and there to save.
"oui c'est lui. maintenant tu dois partir" - The Saleka soldier was telling him to move on quickly to the airport, confirming his request for information.
It was the only airport in the Central Africa Republic and it was guarded by the French army. An American Admiral was waiting to escort Lugar onto the plane. Immediately asking for a debriefing as to what happened on the failed operation.
" Six months, we were surprised to hear that you made it out, everyone has been mourning, what happened?" - The admiral asked while leaning into Lugar's vision.
" Did anyone else survive?" - Lugar spoke through his fingers.
"Unfortunately, you were the only survivor. What happened on the helicopter? Did it malfunction, was it struck down?" - Asked the admiral.
"Everyone is dead?"- Lugar was engulfed by guilt and mentally had become ill and depressed by hearing that he killed his team on the helicopter.
He was generally discharged and for the next few years he found himself drinking and working physically demanding jobs to keep distracted. He still was unsure on what was the major catalyst for turning him into a werewolf. Experiencing many terrifying nights on his own in his cabin that he built in upstate Illinois. Rarely stepping out into the public besides for work and a local bar called Renekies; where he would drink himself under a melting rock. Often buying a bottle of Jameson and taking it on the walk home.
Lugar developed a routine. When at home he would: wake up , wash his face and beard , take a run in the morning and often write in his journal of memories. There he stored all of his recollections of becoming this unwanted beast. You could sense the animosity in his choice of wordings in his journal. Indeed , he was disappointed and was starting to gain a taste for vengeance but he could not shake his drunken state and the years of depression were not motivating at all. After all, locating the two who had cursed and harmed him when he was a boy would be close to impossible.
Illinois was becoming more and more like home. Renekies was a small place with not many regulars, just comers and goers , so no one was too familiar with him at first. There was almost a designated spot for him in the hole in the wall type bar. A Jack on the rocks and a bottle of Jameson to take home was how he would regularly indulge.
"One more, one more!" - Words skipped out by a disgruntled man at the bar top.
"Nah, I think that is it buddy." - His good friend was laughing off his needs.
" I need one more, look at her, she could feed me all night! " - He urged the bartender while speaking to his partner.
" How about you call it a night sweetheart." - The young bartender said, causing him to laugh.
"Yeah, come on buddy." - His good friend was being as convincing as he could, grabbing him by his waist and pulling him to the door.
" I said I want another drink! " - He responded to the neglect by tugging on the young woman's apron.
She did not take kindly to this and slapped the man. His friends then gave her trouble for smacking him. Trying to intimidate and surely oppressing her rights. Though she stood her ground , she was clearly outnumbered by the belligerent drunks.
" For her sake and for the sake of you three, I would say let us leave the lady alone. " - Lugar had no tolerance for inconsideration towards any one who was being abused.
" Do I know you ?" - One of the friends was checking Lugar and looking at him with one eye.
" Let's get him!" - Said the man who was initiating all the trouble that night.
" No, no we are going to sit back down and continue to drink. We do not know this guy and I do not care. I think I would like to stay a little while longer now. One more drink, sweetie." - The good friend was speaking with truth but still he was not prepared for the overall strength of Lugar.
Lugar knocked out both of his friends, the extremely ugly, the bad and leaving just him , the good remaining. One punch was all it took to apply that three pounds of pressure needed behind his elephant knuckles to K'O a man. The good friend still was not afraid and stood up slowly from his seat in an attempt to spear Lugar but he ran into a set of abs and a pre-set professional foot placement that landed him on his face. The bartender had walked around with a shotgun with intent to assist Lugar.
" I got him."- Lugar was composed but his face was grimey.
The good friend sprung back up and threw a strong left hook that was blocked by Lugar's crossed elbow. He followed with a lead uppercut that did not land because Lugar smothered it at his own waist with his burly hands. At the same time Lugar had side stepped and was now on the outside of the man's feet. He placed his foot on the knee of the man causing him to collapse right into the arms of Lugar. That is where he began to choke the good friend , placing his forearm around his chin and squeezing his ear into his own belt buckle until the man tapped out. He was left lying on the floor with his associates.
For his heroics Lugar was offered a cigarette and after a conversation about what just took place with the bartender, he was invited to a nightclub in town. Hesitating to accept the offer at first but at the end of the day he could use a break in all the calamity.