A videogame novelization Played, written and produced by Ben Abraham

Permanent Death

http://drgamelove.blogspot.com

Foreword by Clint Hocking

The Undiscover Undiscoverd Country Almost every game in which you embody a singular avatar within a world shares one rule in common the destruction of your avatar represents a boundary condition to the simulation. In other words; death equals game over. In exploring the early landscape of video game design, designers began to question this notion. By the time players were pumping quarters into Space Invaders, the accepted design form was that three deaths equalled game over. This immediately raised crucial conceptual questions about the role of death in games. If the third death equals game over, what do the two previous deaths equal? What happens conceptually when the avatar is destroyed but the game is not over? Critically, the concept of multiple lives for the avatar underscores the fact that player and avatar are decoupled. When the avatar dies the player is pushed 'up' to a meta-level in the conceptual hierarchy of the game structure where the player is no longer playing the game, but is instead playing with the game. At this level one is able to make higher order decisions about the nature of the experience whether something that happened is acceptable or not and to undo those decisions if one so chooses. It is central to the notion of what a game is that whenever we engage with it, we are simultaneously playing the game and playing with it. Permadeath or the adoption of the Ironman rule is a case of the player playing with the game to self-impose a metarule that prohibits playing with the game. It effectively re-couples player and avatar, an interesting consequence of which is the porting over of the authentic desperation of lifes struggle. The permadeath restriction forces a player to adapt to overcome the biggest challenges one will ever confront in a game, or in reality: his or her own fickleness, foolishness, cowardice and frailty. At the same time, however, the serious nature of permadeath tends to make players choose a conservative path. It pushes them into the canyons of optimal strategy, rather than seducing them to climb the peaks of glorious idiocy where Roger Federer strides, swatting tennis balls between his legs, widening the eyes of all mankind. Far Cry 2 is a magnificently flawed game but I would suggest that the place where it truly shines is high on some improbable peak in the endless landscape of its dynamics where foolhardiness, malaria, desperation and a flamethrower converge into some never before seen, irreproducible moment of pure creative magic.

Bens permadeath play through thus presents a curious paradox: on the one hand the severe constraint entices him to choose conservative, optimal strategies in the canyons of Far Cry 2s baser dynamics. On the other hand the identity of player-and-avatar forces Ben, on occasion, to go all in and attempt the one-in-amillion between-the-legs-shot that can only be imagined beyond the threshold where an ordinary player playing under normal circumstances would simply give up and reload the game. I believe and I think the history of games bears out the proof that the true beauty of any game and much of the beauty of humanity is discovered by the rare individuals who reach these forbidding peaks. Muhammad Ali, Gary Kasparov, Doctor J, Wayne Gretzky, Billy Mitchell, Roger Federer; all these players have stood atop many of the most treacherous peaks of their preferred games. But the hardest step anyone will ever take in life is neither the first step up the hill, nor the last step taken to reach its peak. Rather it is the first step down, and back into the terrible unknown. What separates all of these great players from their peers was not their ability to stay on top, but their willingness to delve back into the canyons of play, and leave one beautiful peak behind in search of another. It was their awareness that the quest to achieve that perfect, fleeting instant of dynamic glory means they must forever embrace the paradox of playing the game and playing with the game at the same time.

-Clint Hocking December 1, 2009

Contents
Chapter 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .6 Interstitial . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .57 Chapter 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .61 interstitial . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .144 Chapter 3 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .147 interstitial . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .185 Chapter 4 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .190 interstitial . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .303 Chapter 5 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .304 postscript . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .373 special thanks . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .390

Death is permanent and, in all works of fiction, predetermined. Except in video games, where most of the time it is neither. Duncan Fyfe

Death in games is often verytemporary. I wanted to find out what happens to me as a player if I make my videogame death much more permanent. This is the story of one game of Far Cry 2 one single narrative that one way or the other will end in my death. Whether it is at the hands of my enemies, the harsh environment, or my own ineptitude, I am not going to survive the telling of this tale. This is the story of how far Qurbani Singh got. The rules: Normal difficulty, when I die, thats it. Game over.

Chapter 1:
I used the introductory car ride to adjust my visual settings; I figure that if Im going to be fighting for my life I probably want the best frame rate I can get. I take everything down a notch, and while I normally play with most settings on Very High I take them down to just High. I also change from 2x to 4x anti-aliasing if Charlies going to be crouching in the jungle waiting for me, I want as 'accurate' a picture of him as I can get. My life is depending on this now. The taxi ride ends and I come down with malaria. I black out and wake up in the room where the Jackal tells me about some Nietzsche he read and nearly chops my head off. I black out again. So far, its all scripted cut scene.

I get up out of the bed, picking up the sidearm and machete that the Jackal left. I scrabble out of the room and make my way to the central stairwell. From previous experience, I know I dont want to go out the front door as its obvious that would lead me right into where the fighting is worst. Instead I cross to another room, scooping up a dropped machine gun on the way. Anything is better than this pop-gun of a sidearm, Ive got to be able to defend myself now and a pistol just isnt going to cut it. I find the open window and leap out of it no one is in sight (it is normal difficulty, after all) but as I creep down the back alley I spy some soldiers down a side-street. I turn the other direction and sprint up the hill away from town. I get as far away as I can before I have to stop sprinting, my breathing becoming ragged and my vision blurring. The malaria virus clouds the edges of the screen as I stumble across a bridge out of town. In one of the last scripted sequences before I reach the main game, I collapse onto the wooden decking of the bridge. As my vision goes dim, I hear a jeep pulling up and men jumping out of it. I slip into unconsciousness.

Let me take a second here to mention that, up until now it has all been very scripted. Very safe. No matter what you choose to do in the town to try and get out you end up blacking out and being picked up. Even if you get shot, you black out and get picked up. Im fairly certain that where you are when you go down affects which faction you get rescued by, as every time I've gone down on that bridge Ive gotten stuck with the following guy

When I awake, Im greeted by this friendly looking soldier reclining casually in the doorway. The savage looking fellow goes by the name of Joakim Carbonell and he works for the UFLL. He tells me to fix my wounds, get some guns and go out and repair a car thats disgorging steam outside. Apparently Im indebted to him because he saved my life and got some of his soldiers killed back in town. Hes got some monkey work for me to do and I'm happy to oblige, since he also promises to introduce me to Gakumba, the regional boss of the UFLL if I do this work for him. Gotta start somewhere. Having fixed up the car, Carbonell cant be bothered coming outside of his hut despite the fact that Im standing right outside instead calling me on the phone. He tells me about an enemy safe-house that hed like to see get roughed up. I take my guns and my new car and head on up. They dont really pose much of a threat and Carbonell calls me back when Im finished.

With this fight I was faced for the first time with the possibility of dying, as I had no buddy to rescue me had I stuffed up and gotten myself killed. There was a little bit of tension, but it was still incredibly easy on the normal difficulty. After playing on 'Infamous' (the absolute hardest difficulty) for so long I feel the temptation might be to not take normal difficulty seriously enough, which is kind of good and dangerous. I imagine that it shares a kind of verisimilitude with real war, of which there is that old saying that it is long stretches of boredom punctuated by brief moments of sheer terror. It means that Ill have to work to maintain concentration and focus. Carbonell didnt want me to fall asleep on my feet, so he told me to go inside and rest. I decided to sleep till the early evening. It had been a long day, after all. I awoke at 8pm and stepped outside to answer a phone call. Carbonell wanted me to go up to some lumber camp just up the road. I got there and scout around a bit. Apparently there was someone being held captive in one of the buildings and I was to go and rescue them.

I snuck up nice and close and easily pulled off a headshot on the first of two soldiers in my sights. They were unsuspecting and went down fast. One of their number, however, managed to get a flare off before I dispatched him; no one came to help him though. When it was clear, I entered the building and freed a woman held captive named Michelle who was to become my best buddy. Knowing the kind of things I'm going to do in this game, and the kinds of tactics I'm going employ to make absolutely sure I stay alive, who would want to be my buddy? They must be pretty messed up themselves...

I drove back up to Fresh Fish where Carbonell gave me my reward in diamonds, if I could find them stashed somewhere in the camp. And find them I did, since Id already done this about 4 or 5 times when I'd played the game before. At least the later missions will be a bit more interesting as I can start to explore the freedom the geography of the world affords. I headed on down to Mikes bar and the gun shop next door to buy myself a new gun, or more accurately an unlimited supply of one particular gun. I also bought an accuracy upgrade for it which I hope will help me save ammo and stay alive better. By being able to bring down enemies quicker Ill stop them from being able to bring me down. Its this kind of strategic thinking that Im going to need to do to make sure I never, ever lose the upper hand in this game of Far Cry 2.

Inside Mikes bar I met up with Michelle as well as Warren Clyde who will one day provide me with a second chance if I get almost-dead. Hopefully I wont ever need him, but honestly I don't want to risk it. You never know what dumb things might happen. I could fall off a cliff its happened before and Id be mighty glad to have my get out of death free card handy. I also met Reuben who will be of next to no use to me in this game, as Im just trying to stay alive and, frankly, hes got nothing to offer me.

Michelle kind of creeps me out by mentioning something about knowing what the "price of a child" is in the country. Was she encouraging me to paedophilia?! Creepy lady is creepy. If I didn't really, really not want to lose my backup rescue buddy I'd totally find a way to kill off Michelle. I seem to recall CLINT HOCKING mentioning that she annoyed him enough to provoke him to murder.

On my way back up to Pala (the town where the fighting broke out and a place that I can get malaria medicine and missions from) I break into a shack and recover some diamonds. In town I visit the church and the priest gives me some medicine in exchange for delivering a tape that Reuben gave me. Malaria can pop up at any time, so Ill need to stay stocked up on pills. The last thing I want is to be on my last legs and then have a malaria attack render me defenceless. Something like that could get me killed very quickly.

As I stepped outside the church, a dialogue told me that Id finished the tutorial. The gloves are off. I felt very much on my own, but at least I now have my rescue buddy ready. I walked on over to the headquarters of the UFLL, the guard patting me down for concealed weapons before admitting me in to see Gakumba. I stepped inside the dimly lit building, ready for danger.

Inside the UFLL headquarters in Pala, the warlords mission was to eliminate some commandos who were parachuting into the desert somewhere. Mission accepted, I went back outside to check my map and stand with my back to the setting sun.

My new buddy Michelle rang and asked to meet somewhere north-east of Mokuba - I drove east. Coming to the first of many manned checkpoints I overestimate the distance from myself to the soldiers ahead. I was still stepping out of the car when the first bullets pinged off the bonnet. I remember thinking this is it my first firefight and the feeling of danger threatened to overwhelm me. The mixture of exhilaration and jitters proved to pose more of a threat to my survival than did the enemy soldiers. I spent most of the fight crouched here

It was almost a let-down how easy it was. Dispatching them all safely, I scouted the camp, picking up some grenades from the stockpile to replace the ones Id frantically lobbed into the scrub. I hopped into a nearby UNIMOG (a vehicle that looks like the love child of a tank and a dune buggy) and continued on my journey east through the dense jungle, spying and capturing a safehouse just off the main road. The fight was short and dangerous and I got flanked from behind by a patrolling jeep. This was normal difficulty however so I only lost half my health.

While I slept in the safe-house, I was shown a view outside and spied two soldiers approaching under the cover of darkness. They didnt stand much of a chance since it appeared the soldiers default to crouching and waiting in the dark once night falls. Back again in my trusty UNIMOG I approached a second checkpoint further down the road and, still in complete darkness, dismounted a safe distance away. I crept up to well within earshot of the checkpoint and took out enemies while squatting in this lovely fern.

All clear, I commandeered a jeep from the camp and made the last leg of the journey to my meeting place with Michelle. On the way I couldnt resist snapping this picture of a beautiful waterfall. One of the things I like about Far Cry 2 is the stark contrast between the natural beauty and the purposefully ugly humanity. I hung out with Michelle inside the safe house for a few minutes while she told me that the soldiers I was tasked with killing were actually here to get back at her for stealing some supplies. Another great thing about Far Cry 2 is that it doesnt beat you over the head with morality like many other videogames its up to you to determine the morality of your actions. If you think about it, is it really okay that Michelle wants you to kill these soldiers? Its very easy to slip into videogame thinking and just go ahead with everything you are presented with the option of doing.

Working with Michelle would however upgrade my safe house, effectively keeping me safer and better stocked with health and ammunition. So I accept Michelles secondary mission and after a quick nap head to The Gun Shop. A bolt-action sniper rifle is within my budget thanks to the UFLLs generous upfront payment scheme and with shiny new rifle in hand I head back west and north, quickly reaching the border of what is marked as private property on my map. I prowled on up the path towards the villa where my target lay and peered through my rifle scope. It appeared that the checkpoint some ways up the road was deserted, however I knew better from experience. I skirted around the side and crouch-walked through a building, looking for hostiles. Peering out the open front door I spied a guard, crouched cannily behind the front wall. If Id have walked up the main driveway I would have been ambushed! As it was, he was unaware that I was now about to ambush him.

Ive heard concentration described as a flashlight illuminating certain things while keeping others in the dark. You may have heard of the experiment where a person is told to count how many times an object is passed around a circle. The person concentrating routinely fails to notice that a conspicuously dressed person (sometimes a gorilla suit even) walks through the centre of the group they were simply concentrating too hard on one thing to notice anything else. In this case, I was concentrating so hard on the soldier on the right that I neglected to see the fellow on the left, sitting motionless in the bushes across the drive. As Robert Muldoon would say clever girl.

If this were anything harder than normal I could be dead, machete in hand. As it was, I only lost a single bar of health before I took out the other soldier and continued unimpeded along the path to the villa. On the way spotting a briefcase of diamonds.

Creping up to the villa, I scouted the area from a slightly raised position in the south-west corner spotting a prowling sniper and dispatching him easily, I was thankful for the telescopic lens of my rifle. The shot drew attention to me, however, and I had to scoot back from my position as bullets ricocheted around me. Enemies swarmed around like ants, and I used my rifle and pistol like an ant-squashing boot, putting them down easily. I ducked inside a small hut to reload and tend to some superficial wounds. Peering out through the only window, I was sprayed with fragments of wood as the boards covering the window were shot to pieces. In the middle of dispatching this fresh wave of attackers, one of them launches a flare high into the sky over my head.

I had plenty of warning before the reinforcements showed up the jeep had its lights on and in the darkness stood out like a sore thumb. I took out the gunner in one, ducking behind a slanting piece of wall and sliding back the bolt to ready a second, popping up to take out the driver. I was now free to take on the house. I grabbed another briefcase full of diamonds and headed upstairs.

Inside the single lit room, hunched over some papers and a wireless was The Belgian. Looking straight out of the 1950s with his thick-rimmed, jet black glasses he raised himself from his chair as I approached and jammed my machete against his throat. He spoke good English and understood my intentions, giving the commandos the new coordinates that Michelle specified. Upon leaving, I paused to deliberate upon whether he needed eliminating to prevent him from calling them back and warning of the ambush. Michelle hadnt specified, but I didnt see the need to shed any more blood than necessary, so I shot up his radio instead. A futile, symbolic gesture, as the radio was indestructible. I pretend otherwise.

Next thing I know, my phone is ringing and its Michelle on the other end. She tells me that the soldiers are moving into place and that I should go and destroy the evidence of the theft. It was in the back of a truck at a location one map south of the villa. Instead of going there directly, I went north until I hit the small river and grabbed a boat from the dock. There were some guards but they were no threat to my ongoing survival. I rounded a bend and picked off three soldiers guarding a safe house and, picking up another briefcase of diamonds on the way, moved inside and to have a nice safe nap. Upon awakening, I re-entered my boat and headed east until I reached land, with another safe house in the distance. On the way, however, I discovered a deserted jeep sitting in the middle of the road. As I approached, I noticed a fellow walking away from the jeep, through the long grass towards a group of soldiers guarding the safe-house. It looked like he had gotten out of his jeep to stretch his legs before deciding to go and chat with the nearby soldiers. I stood dumbstruck for a moment at the quirky normality of the situation before shooting him in the back of the head.

I engaged the guards at close range and took them out easily, interrupted briefly by a bout of malaria. Seeing his opening, one soldier decided to forgoe his cover for a better shot at me, rushing out from behind a rusty car. Back to full health I proceeded to shoot him to death with my pistol and in his death throes, he knocked over a barrel of burning pieces of wood, starting a lovely fire that spreads quickly to where the other soldier lies in wait. I use some bullets to help him along into the next world and head inside and to have another nap. Its nearly dawn.

I pack my bags and leave the Hotel de Safehouse, stepping outside into THIS! The glorious rays of the rising sun.

Taking the bus from the nearby far-east station meant that I could travel directly to the bus stop in the south-east corner of the map, bypassing a number of checkpoints. Someone had left another briefcase of diamonds at this bus station and after dealing with another jeep patrol I travelled on up to the gun shop to pick up a fresh new rifle. From that same store that I had visited twice now, I proceeded west to come around at my target from the north and passed the same waterfall from earlier, this time in the daylight. While trying to take yet another beautiful screenshot I failed to watch where I was going and had a bit of a car accident. I wasn't even going that fast officer, I swear!

No sooner had I given up on righting my now useless UNIMOG than I was assaulted by soldiers. Id picked up a new machine gun for my special weapon slot back at the gun shop, which I put to good use. Here is a man who met the business end of the weapon and ended up in the river.

Finally, I neared the location of my primary target Mokuba, a shanty town with a mass of hazardously placed explosives just waiting to devastate living flesh.

My phone rings again its Michelle telling asking for some help. Not willing to lose my buddy so early, I wander on down the road to the checkpoint where she is holed up. I spot some soldiers crossing the road (to get to the other side) and take aim with my rifle.

They return fire, their AK47s pinging ineffectually off the rocks around me. This is why I advocate long distance engagements. I take out the last stragglers and head in closer. On the way, a solitary burst of AK fire and the words mission accomplished inform me that Michelle can take care of herself. She tells me that shes okay for now that I can go on my merry way. Stopping only to pick up another briefcase of diamonds, I head to back to the bus-stop and take a bus back to Pala, completing a giant, lopsided circle and the first of many missions in Far Cry 2.

If the path of my trip so far has seemed oddly circuitous, its because I know that in Far Cry 2 the most direct route is often also the most dangerous. Its also usually quicker to avoid checkpoints and guard posts when you can, and if you spend a few minutes planning its often possible to plot a reasonably safe and unimpeded course to your destination. Such are the lengths to which I will go just to stay alive. Heres a rough map of my current journey so far:

I went a little stir crazy after the first mission and decided to speed things up. So I did a couple of missions in quick succession and consequently blew a lot of stuff up. The first such explosion was a convoy of arms that was conveniently circling a bus station down south. I ran out of grenades and so I discovered that enough bullets will eventually stop a convoy in its tracks. Who woulda though it? When the engine died and started spewing thick black smoke I knew it was time to back off and it wasn't long before it blew sky high.

My second mission, to ambush another weapons convoy, went much smoother thanks in no small part to the liberal application of explosives. I camped in the bushes, with my jeep parked in the middle of the road, rigged and ready to blow.

The jeep exploded but rather than take the convoy with it, just destroyed my only means of transportation, and left the target in tact.

Some grenades soon relieved the driver and his payload of their atomic cohesion, providing a much more acceptable level of destruction.

After that happy incident, I quickly made my way over to a cell phone tower and answered a call where the person on the other end was apparently the killer from the movie Scream. He wanted me to off some merc who just so happened to be standing in the middle of Palas cease fire zone. I chopped him a new face-hole and scampered for the border, soaking up my fair share of lead in the process. It was worth it though 15 easy diamonds were all mine.

Later, after the heat had cooled I went in to see the APR boss. Apparently, thanks to me APR is the shit now. Alright mate, whatever you say.

His mission for me was to go and blow up a train carrying liquid petroleum or natural gas. I never found out which. Suffice to say, it went off with another acceptably large bang.

I went off on another mission, this time playing the field - the UFLL wanted me to blow up some compressor in a junkyard owned by the APR. On the way, I was harassed by this jeep a perfect opportunity to try out my new RPG.

When I got to the junk yard I initially tried a stealth approach, using my silenced Makarov to take down lone guards. Once I left the cover of the long grass however, I was quickly spotted and chased by multiple soldiers from multiple directions. Having only my pistol, my trusty rifle and the aforementioned RPG, I alternated between emptying clips of my pistol into enemies and running to a safe distance to utilise my rifles scope. Beating a path to the middle of the junkyard, I finally put my RPG to a last final good use.

Back in Pala, a guard told me that the bosses were busy but that someone was being held captive at the old place used for cockfighting. I went there and rescued Flora Guillen.

Theoretically I could now take Michelle out of the picture, if I desired, but I hardly ever saw her anymore anyway since I was breezing through and ignoring her phone calls. I took another convoy ambush mission and this was the result.

Having unlocked a number of cool new weapons, I was still strapped for diamonds to actually buy them with, so I took another assassinate mission and, surprise, surprise; this guy was also hiding out in the middle of Pala. This time I would remember to pack my silenced Makarov.

Entering Pala it seemed quiet, there was one solitary guard on the whole street as I approached. It smelt like an ambush. It was also the dead of the night, so I brushed it off as merely being a naturally quiet night. I approached my target from behind, took aim and square missed the mans head. He ran off screaming into the night and a horde of soldiers poured into the streets. Cocky, I chased him down and unloaded a clip into his retreating form, only to expose myself to halfa-dozen soldiers. I retreated, finding my escape rapidly being cut off by yet more soldiers. It was going bad and fast. I was getting overwhelmed and I started to become distracted by the though that this was it'. I could be about to die. My faculties failed me and I collapsed, blood pooling the dirt.

Warren Clyde, was my saviour. He charged in, desert eagle and AK-47 blazing. He must have known I was going to pull something stupid, as he was obviously hanging around nearby. Ill bet he came running as soon as the shooting started. How else can I explain away the almost divine timing that saw him turn up right at that very moment? A second later and it would have been lights out for Qurbani Singh. Talking to him later in the safe house, I barely remembered the rest of the journey. Apparently he picked me up, dragged me out from the middle of Pala by himself and put me back on my feet at the jetty on the north-western side of town. He even covered my retreat as I got in a boat and puttered downstream to collapse on the camp bed of the nearest safe-house. When I asked him about it, he simply gave me a thumbs up and said Dont mention it, man.

But then I told him the bad news my malaria condition was getting worse and I was all out of pills. I needed to see the priest back in town and get him to fix me up. I wont soon forget the look Warren gave me as I walked out the door. He wanted to say something, but he held his tongue. Perhaps that itself took more bravery.

The Priest was actually out of pills (again!) but he knew of a family that had some and sent me to courier them some fake passports so they could skip the country. That was fine by me as far as Im concerned, the less civilians around the better. I started a fire outside the house the civvies were hiding in to flush out the nearby troops. Looked like I arrived just in time too.

After handing over the passports, I stumped off to a nearby cell phone tower to try and get some reception. Another call, another target. I decided to play it smart and try and take the guy out from a distance. He was hiding in the shanty town of Mokuba (you will remember it from Episode 2) so how hard could it be to hit him in there? Turns out; rather hard, and I had to abandon my vantage point to get close enough to score a kill. In a surreal turn of events, I scored the killing blow with my newest favourite toy the flare pistol. The man catches fire as the burning flare thuds into his chest and he falls to the ground, expired.

The flare goes off, sending my target into the next life with a fitting bang.

Speaking of bangs I heard recently that my good friend from another life, Andre Hyppolite, was recently killed in the bush out here. I set out to track him down, taking the bus to the South Eastern bus depot. His last known whereabouts were near a guard post and under the cover of darkness I approached. I drew my grenade launcher and took out the first two guards in one explosion. Another jeep roared up and I switched to my rifle to dispatch both the gunner and driver in quick succession. One last guard was done away with and my revenge for Andre was all but complete.

Climbing atop a rocky outcropping behind the guardpost, I surveyed the scene. To my delight, I spotted it. The very same jeep that reports say claimed Andres life. I took aim and blew that bastard away. It was a small and perhaps petty memorial a strange choice of method to mark the passing of a life. Maybe it is a little perverse to declare one persons death meaningful in the face of so many nameless, faceless others, but it meant something to me, however little.

Interstitial: Evolution of an explosion

CHAPTER 2:
Last we saw our intrepid hero, Qurbani Singh was somewhere in the deep, deep south where he had just avenged the death of his good friend Andre Hipolite.

Since then, on his way to an assassinate mission Qurbani unlocked a safe house at dawn

ran over his first zebra

and picked up a briefcase full of diamonds on the side of a cliff next to a burnt out car.

I will admit that the fear of dying had more or less completely disappeared by this point. The worry and hesitancy with which I approached the earlier missions had atrophied enough that I was confident in taking out an assassination target head on, using explosives. Im regularly flirting with danger now, and it remains to be seen whether I will get burnt.

I was in a bit of an exploratory mood, so after swimming around and under a submerged house in the middle of the lake I wandered off down river and, passing through a checkpoint, spied a bridge overhead. I realised that in all the times Id played the game, in quite possibly every game I had played, Id seen the bridge but never actually visited it.

I went up and explored the bridge as well as three other checkpoints along the ridge, all of which I had never even seen before. At one of these checkpoints a jeep charged through the jungle at me and ended up having a car accident. You just cant scrip for the surreal.

Under the bridge I spotted some diamonds and in the process of their retrieval got myself stuck half-way up a cliff with no immediately visible, safe route down. Escaping any serious ill effects by sliding down the space between two walls, I pretended that Qurbani Singh had lost the seat of his pants in his daring escapade and therefore had to put up with the shame until he reached the next safe house and was able to change his pants. The safe house was conveniently located near another scenic water fall and it amazed me that Id been able to spend so much time with this game and still not ever have traversed this particular, quite large, patch of jungle. I thought Id been everywhere.

On my way back to Pala I spotted a hang-glider and wondered whether I could get all the way to Pala in one flight. It didnt look that far on the map

but my short lived trip was ended by a tree branch and I ditched into the river.

After slogging back to Pala, I stumbled into the hotel, largely out of curiosity. Nothing much had changed and no one had yet bothered to clean up any of the mess. Admittedly, they all probably have better things to do than rebuilt a hotel while theres a war raging. On the upside, my one time room has a lovely new skylight now.

I got patted down by a guard with a huge scar on his lip and headed upstairs to a meeting with the UFLL and Carbonell. This time Im sent off to locate some buried treasure and send an SMS with its location. I take my diamond filled dossier and go.

Barely out the door, I stop for a second having noticed the green flashing light indicating a nearby briefcase of diamonds. On second thoughts, notice is not entirely accurate; perhaps comprehend the possibility of its acquisition is a better description. Ive known that particular briefcase has been there since my first play-through of the game as it shows up clearly on the diamond detector any time you are near the UFLL building, however given my new found brazen attitude I was suddenly very aware of how much more obtainable they now seemed.

Thinking back over it later, it made me consider the difficult time developers have in employing traditional narrative tricks and techniques to game narratives. Specifically, in all of my previous games I had for various reasons never once picked up this particular briefcase before. Why is that important? Well, in drama there is an axiom known as Chekhovs Gun which says that "One must not put a loaded rifle on the stage if no one is thinking of firing it." (A suitably violent axiom for a game like Far Cry 2) In all of my previous games, all on varying difficulties, I had never even considered taking the diamonds because I didnt want to break the peace treaty. 1-3 diamonds just never seemed worth the risk of getting shot to pieces before.

Why then, in all those earlier games, did the Diamonds exist? Chekhovs Gun says that if no one is ever going to fire it, dont put it on stage since it is superfluous for the narrative. Its clear, however, that a game designer has absolutely no way of knowing if a certain player is going to take the diamonds or not and so has no choice but to place them in the world and let whatever happens happen. If they were to remove the diamonds, then the player would be denied the possibility of taking them, but leaving them in any game where the player doesnt take them compromises Chekhovs rule.

Were Chekhov still around today I think that he would either be an obsessive, completionist player or he would stop believing his own rule. I can imagine him talking about all 200+ briefcases and saying that, If they put it in the game, it needs to be collected! But when the player is forced into acting in a specific way like this (with the alternative being a compromise in narrative integrity) then we are dominated by the story and must obey it even if it that story makes for a really boring one. (Who after all really wants to read about a guy collecting 200-odd briefcases of diamonds? Wheres the interest in that story?)

Qurbani went to go meet Michelle at a place called lakeside which didnt seem upon arrival to be in close proximity to any real lakes. Taking a boat up the river, I reached my stop. The soldier, having taken a shot from my dart rifle, is sleeping peacefully when I pull up.

In the safehouse, Michelle tells me to go and kill the king whos gold the UFLL are after and to collect his signet ring so that the Kings son can skip the country and get access to the Swiss bank accounts. I decide to take a slightly subtle approach to the fort where the king is hiding and slink up under the cover of darkness.

I scout some snipers on the ramparts and take them out first, continuing my journey up to the fort along a track that brings my up to a back entrance to the fort.

On my way, I alert the guards and its on for young and old. Crouching at the corner of a wall, I wait for a soldier to appear, hearing his footsteps approaching. Even though I knew he was coming my reaction time was not quick enough to prevent him getting off a shotgun blast, the brunt of which slammed into the wall beside my head.

Inside the walls of the fort I made a dash for the tower in which the King was residing. Upon reaching him, I finished him off with a shot from my flare gun leaving a trail of burnt corpses is becoming a bit of a trademark of mine.

The King was very fair skinned compared to his son, a fact that I noticed when I passed along the ring. Maybe his mother had a darker complexion? Or maybe he wasnt really the kings son. We may never know. I handed the ring over anyway.

Then it was time to go save Michelle and find the buried treasure. I took the sturdier of the two Jeeps the son-formerly-known-as-Prince left as a gift for me. I ended up parking it next to the hole into which I had to climb to reach the treasure. It came quite in handy for cover later, as the fighting afterward was tense, and I had to revive Michelle afterward.

Tempting, so very, very tempting

Back to Pala I went to start the second last mission for the UFLL, continuing my inexorable march to the scary part of the game where I would be without a buddy the inter chapter section. For this next mission, Greeves sent me into the jungle to blow up some pumps on a farm the APR were protecting so some multinational corporation could mess with the ecosystem as he put it.

When I caught up with Michelle, she sent me into a chemical plant and retrieve some super-defoliant. I started a lot of fires to get to it.

I dropped the big canister off with Michelle at the airport she had some harebrained scheme where she was going to spray the stuff all over the farm to deny the soldiers their cover. I couldnt see how this could possibly work. I took a circuitous route from the airport in the south up to the farm in the central-east section of the map, stopping off to see this crashed Cesna 150.

I also had another minor car accident

Followed by another

I picked up some silenced weaponry at the armoury on the way and crept into the farm with a silenced MP5, Flare Gun and RPG. In hindsight, not exactly a super sensible load out but I wanted to try and destroy the pump from far, far away with an RPG. Unfortunately I had to get rather close to the pump before I landed a direct hit and disabled it, just in time to hear Michelles light aircraft go flying overhead, defoliant streaming out the back.

I could practically taste the carcinogens and I wanted to hold my breath. The stuff must have been super-strong because it worked fast. As Michelles plane disappeared into the distance I heard the sound of far off anti-aircraft fire and hoped she was okay.

I quickly ran out of ammunition, my weapon load out coming back to bite me in the butt. I couldnt find any loose on the ground even as the guards kept coming, so I swapped my MP5 for a rusty old Homeland shotgun. Thankfully, the thing was practically unstoppable.

Michelle called to let me know she had been shot down and that soldiers were closing in. I hurried to her and came upon her crashed plane first, with the sound of machine gun fire coming from a small depression to the south-west.

There looked to be just one soldier nearby and he had her in his sights. I fired a flare gun hoping to either distract him or perhaps score a lucky direct hit. I misjudged my aim and it bounced off the trunk of a large fallen tree and landed in the grass, starting a fire perilously close to Michelle. I swapped to my grimy, mud-encrusted shotgun and prayed the slugs would fire. They did, and he went down.

Tired of being the Knight in Shining armour for the N-th time, I headed off to a safehouse for a nap.

I woke up in a safe house and went outside, heading west to Pala. I passed a guard post along the way and got into to bit of a scrap, losing my vehicle to enough stray weapons fire to put it out of action. I picked up a new one at a safehouse, also picking up some more diamonds and a tape recording of Reubens interview with the Jackal before making my way back to Pala.

In town, I go to pick up the only mission available to me. Its for the UFLL, as apparently the APR has given up on me. Gakumba meets with me alone which is strange considering hes always had some other mercenary there as a witness before. Its unsettling, but his diamonds are good and Ive still got no other leads on The Jackal.

His mission is a dangerous one as the UFLL leader wants me to assassinate his counterpart in the APR and further destabilize the conflict. It would appear that he is feeling the strain from my work for the UFLL and is retreating to a house above the Goka falls. If I take him out then the other side can consolidate power here in the north and maybe I can finally make a start on tracking down the Jackal once and for all. As it is now I can hardly drive 100 metres up the road without some mob of triggerhappy yahoos deciding to shoot first and ask questions later. Maybe if the UFLL actually gains control I will be able to more around a bit more freely. The guard on the way out looks at me with shifty eyes. I know something is up.

Before I head out of town, however, I visit Father Maliya for a third time. Im running a little bit low on pills, but Im not quite dry yet. I accept the fake passports he gives me, figuring if I get a chance Ill drop them off in exchange for some malaria meds. But Im not going to go out of my way not unless I get desperate.

I check my map on the way out. Unfortunately for these civilians, it doesnt look like theyre on the way. Ill probably wait till Im out in the desert somewhere and toss the papers.

Arriving at the north-eastern most bus-station, I get in a car and, eschewing the roads for fear of running into a patrol, drive through the fringes of the desert until I reach the fort, where I rejoin the road. Passing through a checkpoint with a minimum of fuss, I reach the small foot-track leading to Goka falls. There is a sign in the middle of the scrub. An odd spot for it, to say the least.

I started up the track, crouching low and staying underneath the waist-high palm fronds to remain out of view. I had no idea how well many guards would be protecting Tambossa so I kept my silenced MP5 at the ready. Reaching the point where the track doubled back, I could hear a guard whistling as he stood overlooking the path Id just come up. I cut short his whistling and the body rolled away, becoming hidden in the long grass. I continued on and, pausing at the crest of the hill, noticed just how bright an evening it was. The full moon was bright enough to be casting shadows from the trees overhead and in this light I wouldnt be able to stay hidden for long.

I had gone all of 10 metres when I had to make a mad dive for cover off to one side - a guard was walking up the path towards me and had I been a second slower he would have spotted me instantly. Thankfully, he wasnt paying much attention and his body dropped to the ground with a dull thud, laying smack-bang in the middle of the path with no cover between it and my position. I ground my teeth and skirted off the right, taking up position behind a large moss covered rock.

I could now see both the dead guard on the path and what I presumed to be the building that contained Tambossa. The chatter of the guards increased, betraying a note of tension and I surmised that the body on the path had been discovered. Ignoring it for the moment, I whipped out my monocle and peered towards the hut.

To my great surprise, I spotted Tambossa staring back out at me from an open window! It was too great an opportunity to pass up and, with his guards rushing about in a panic now, I took aim and fired.

Suddenly, soldiers were all around me shouting and firing in my direction. Shards of the rock I was crouched behind sprayed my face and chest. With a sinking feeling like a punch in the gut and the sound of weapons fire behind me, the penny dropped. My attack was just meant to be a feint the spearhead of the major UFLL push and I was now caught in the middle between the APR in front and the UFLL behind. I turned and ran, desperate to punch a hole through the advancing UFLL troops.

I took out three of four soldiers in quick succession, abandoning my stealthy MP5 for my PKM machine gun with its reassuring heft. Somewhat miraculously, I managed to take out most of the UFLL soldiers with my desperate attack. Behind their lines now, I spied a lone soldier guarding the track from behind and eliminated him.

I made it back to the Goka falls signpost, still reeling from the betrayal. It took me a second to realise that it was my phone ringing that was causing my pockets to vibrate and I answered to hear Reuben the reporters voice on the other end. He said he needed to meet with me right away. Lacking a better plan, I agreed.

When I got to the lumber mill, Reuben told me the UFLL was making their push and consolidating power in the north, just as Id suspected. They were also, however, rounding up all the civilians and foreign nationals for goodness knows what reason. Reuben seemed to think that it wasnt anything good, and I was inclined to agree. He gave me a choice to meet with Michelle and Warren at Mikes Bar and try to hold out there, or to hot-foot it to the church in Pala and help the civilians (including Father Maliya) escape. Pala sounded like a death-trap to me.

In hindsight, the choice was an easy one to make. When Id tossed out the civilian papers Id already written them off in my mind as a lost cause, but I pretended to consider the other option. When I got to Mikes and heard the gunfire I wasted no time in attacking them from behind. As the last one went down from a long range shot he pulled out a flare gun and launched a flare high into the air above the bar.

Inside the bar, Michelle was visibly distressed and Warren and Nasreen had already taken up positions at boarded up windows around the bar.

I helped Michelle push a heavy, 1950s style icebox in front of the door. No sooner had we done so than all the windows in the bar blew open and the soldiers now surrounding the bar opened fire.

The withering force of the opening volley took down Michelle and Warren, but dust obscured Nasreen. I couldnt tell how much longer she survived for but it couldnt have been long. I crouched in a corner next to the bar. I tried valiantly to take some of them with us, throwing grenade after grenade and emptying a plethora of slugs and then shells out the open windows.

I dont remember what it was that eventually brought me down, but the next thing I knew I was on the back of a truck, having been mistaken for dead. The next thing I remember was the pavement rushing up at me as I fell off the back of the truck, reopening fresh wounds.

The sand and wind was howling and the best I could do was turn my back to the brunt of it and try to get off the road and die in peace. I blacked out again.

When I woke up it was because the pain was so intense, manifesting as a crimson sheen over my vision. I heard a voice say something like stop squirming and with a wrench the pain flared once more before subsiding. To my intense surprise it was the Jackal to whom I now owed my continued survival. He sat next to me for a few minutes and gave me an update on the situation with the UFLL but at the sound of some jeeps pulling up outside he took off out a window.

Greeves came inside and told me the same stuff as the Jackal, the UFLL was consolidating its hold and everyone was getting out and heading south. He said hed leave me a jeep if I promised to go back up north and murder the bastard that turned on me and my merc friends. He said Tambossa would be easy to find as he was giving a speech somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Weird place to hold a speech. I wonder if Greeves had anything to do with it.

Either way, it was all too easy to spot his coterie as I reached a hill to the west of the convoy. It looked like theyd stopped on the road because of a broken down car or truck. It gave me an opportunity I was only too happy to take advantage of.

After spotting his prominent head with my monocle I only needed one shot.

And that was that I was done with this whole mess and it was time to move on. The Jackal was obviously also heading south and I felt a strange pull towards him - it wasnt the same as before where I just wanted to find him and kill him. Now when I next met him it wouldnt be enough to just end his life I wanted something more. I wanted to get understand to get inside his head and see the world through his eyes. On the way south I passed the hut he had dragged me into and saved my life.

I had to fight my way south, as Greeves had told me to meet him in the small town of Sefapane once Id sorted out Tambossa. As I drove into the town I couldnt shake a slight feeling of dj vu. Another crummy town and another shaky attempt at peace.

As I walked into the room to meet Greaves he was on the phone. I overhear him say something like problem solved as he sees me and hangs up. He then proceeds to explain what he wants me to do help someone sail a ship of guns into Port Soleo under a UFLL flag and basically drop the match into the gas tank that is this conflict. Well be back fighting this idiotic war in no time, he tells me.

I believe him.

Later

Qurbani Singh slouched onto the camp bed with a groan. Turning his face toward his companion, he paused before sighing. How in the hell did I end up here, friend? he asked. The friend was Hakim Echebbi, a thirty-something Algerian man who looked like he could more than handle himself in a scrap just so long as he doesnt have to do too much running. A stint in the Navy as a naval counter-terrorist expert gave Echebbi a hardness of spirit that it seemed his body was fighting not to betray, the first signs being a slight paunchiness around the middle.

I have no idea how you came to this place, Sikh, he says drily, before continuing in a more light-hearted tone, But here I am minding my own business running a nice little operation in fact when all of a sudden I hear everything has blow up in the north. He turns to face Sigh and says with a wry smile. And now its all ballsed up. I guess I really do have nothing better to do than save your sorry behind. Standing up and crossing the room he leans on a weapons crate. So why dont you tell me how you got from wherever you were before here, I suppose.

Singh sat up in the canvas stretcher bed and tried to recall how he came to be in this house, on the side of a cliff in the middle of a jungle.

It was sunny and hot when I left Sefapane Greaves paid me to go meet some guy and help him get a boat-load of the Jackals guns into town. The idea was that we didnt want the APR and UFLL boys to stop killing each other long enough to turn on the rest of us. Smart plan, Hakim added dryly.

I know, right? What kind of stupid idea is that? he laughed. Anyway, I got to the boat and youll never guess who the captain is Andre Hipolite! No fuckin way! Hakim interjects, I thought that guy was dead!

Me too, Qurbani replies. So there we are, just the two of us and enough guns for, well, more than enough to ensure this war keeps on for years. And weve barely gone 100 metres when soldiers appear from out of nowhere I didnt even figure out whose side they were on. Then all of a sudden Im seeing mortar smoke on the roof of the barge and all around there this whistling, rushing noise.

I look up and Im staring at a rocket heading right for me so Im pretty certain Im dead, right? I mean, theres no way the barge can survive more than a couple of rounds from a mortar and this rocket. But it does, yet each time we're hit the engine blows and Ive got to stop shooting at these bastards swarming around us in attack boats to grab a wrench and some tape and patch the bloody thing up.

Ive eaten enough lead to make a paperweight by now, but at least the engines running so I try and get to the front of the ship to see if I cant take out the rocketeer. I didnt even see the next rocket until the last second so I barely had time to duck out of the way. I hurt myself pretty bad in the process.

I scrambled up to the top of the deck and crouched around behind the bridge I was barely hanging on by a thread. I think something must have landed on my left hand in the explosion because the little finger was at this weird angle and I had to snap it back into place.

I managed to pop a syrette with my good hand and that made me feel a little better. Somehow we managed to fight the rest off and got the barge into the port. My left hand is never going to be the same again, mind. In town I talked to Doctor Obua and you were there, remember? Eccebi thought for a moment before speaking. Yeah, I remember. whatd he tell you? I was too busy watching the street oh man, you should have seen the soldiers move when they heard they were all getting new AKs and PKMs! It was like those civilians when the aid workers were handing out travel passes. Hakim chuckled to himself at the irony of the reversal.

Singh continued, Well, ostensibly I was there to warn him about the weapons, but when he sees that Ive got malaria the Doc says to me something like

Singh imitates the doctors deep voice and thick accent saying, You know that medicine is in short supply, but there are other altruists like yourself. If you return here when it is calm I would be happy to introduce you.

He pauses, before speaking normally again. I nearly laughed me, an altruist?! Hahaha, thats pretty crazy, Hakim added, was he serious, do you think? Didnt he hear about what you did to that priest up north, bailing on him like that?

I dont know shit all news came out of the north after all. Qurbani shrugged. Anyway, I didnt have time to ask because that was just as the fight was breaking out and you were pushing me out the back door.

Yeah, again, sorry about that mate. Couldnt be helped if they found you in there with us we were all dead. For a moment no one spoke and the silence stretched awkwardly. Its okay. Qurbani offered. I would have done the same. Good thing I knew about that shortcut over the north wall though if I had to run through the middle of town I dont think I would have made it. Yeah I stacked those crates up against that low roof just for this kind of situation. Glad you made use of them. Hakim relaxed.

Me too. I made it out to the river just north of Soleo, so who do you think just then decides to ring me up and tell me he's in trouble? I think I can guess. Hakim suggests. Qurbani nods and continues, So Andre says hes now being chased in the barge. The idiot probably planned to keep it and re-sell it rather than scuttle it in the lake like he damn well knows he should have. So he gets chased all the way down to the Marina and decides that Im the person to go to for help. Well, I figured I might as well try even though he might be dead by the time I get there.

But when I get there the tough guy is still alive and putting up a bit of a fight! There were about 15 guys trying to get onto the bridge of that barge, but Andre kept firing out through the front window. He couldnt have had many rounds left though he was chewing through them like candy.

So I took some of them out from afar and cleaned up his mess. He was grateful and told me he was just going to scuttle the barge after all so it was all a bit of a waste, in the end. Still, the man was grateful and he owes me now. That could be useful supposedly hes got a lot of contacts, Andre. Hakim suggested. Maybe hell be able to give you a lead on the Jackal?

Maybe. Anyway, I left the Marina pretty much straight away after that and headed up here. I needed somewhere safe to rest and recover. Which reminds me how did you even find me out here? Qurbani asked.

It was pretty easy, man I went to Mikes at the Marina and they said youd just left. From there, I only needed to follow the sounds of gunfire and the trail of bodies. Hell - youre not that hard to find yknow. Hakim answered.

Qurbani laughed. Right you are, friend. I shall be more careful in future. Dont worry about it. I got your back for now you rest up. Hakim paced over to the door. Ill be around if you get into any trouble, ok? Thank you, Echebbi. Heres to never having to see each other - ever again. Qurbani took a swig from a nearby water bottle as Hakim departed the safe house, whistling as he went.

Interstitial: music on mute

While chatting to some of my blogger friends the other day, some happened to mention that they liked to play Far Cry 2 without the music either for added realism or some other reason. Since Im experimenting already with permanent death, I thought Id give it a shot and see how it changes the experience. I can now confirm that it is different. I had always enjoyed the music for Far Cry 2, but even I must admit that after hundreds of hours of exposure to it my ear had grown weary and stopped noticing it. However, as soon as I turned it off the lack was entirely apparent and I realised just how much I had relied on the music to provide much of the games pacing. When you get close to enemies, even if you dont know they are there, the music often adds a layer of tension to the mix and if youre experienced at playing the game you will probably pick up on this subtle change and prepare yourself. With the music gone, being ambushed can become truly a surprise

The first time this happened to me, it was indeed a surprise - but it was also less tense than it would have been with the addition of music. I was unconsciously waiting for it to ramp up and provide me with an emotional guide as to how I should be acting and responding. Lacking this musical signpost, I spent a lot of the early time in an emotional plateau never feeling particularly bothered by the enemy soldiers.

I became more brazen I found myself charging through the middle of a series of checkpoints in pursuit of a weapons convoy and was hit by a sudden fear. I was apprehended by a feeling that I had dangerously over-stretched myself and that I could be only seconds from death.

I came away from the encounter unscathed, but the tempo of the Far Cry 2 experience had changed. I started ramping my concentration levels up and down much faster snapping from the baseline pseudo-boredom of driving through beautiful scenery, to fullon attention which would then be paid to the effort of staying alive. Or perhaps that was what I was already doing when I had the music on and it just became more transparent without the music. I suspect not for without music to tell me that the fight wasnt over, I had to judge for myself. and it subsequently felt like I entered a great many more discreet conflicts. In one instance I had just finished clearing a camp of soldiers and was searching around for some diamonds, when more turned up and I had to break off the search, bare seconds passing between the first and second encounter. If the music was there, it might well have stayed at that same level across the whole period because it often takes a reasonable period of time to 'calm down'.

Whatever the case may be, Im still convinced that the people responsible for the music of Far Cry 2 have done a singularly excellent job in creating a score, and implementing a system, that has held up for a hundred hours or more, in my case. If I keep it off for a little bit longer I hope Jeff Wesevich wont take it personally.

Chapter 3:

CIA Special Analyst Perry Gerling was part of the African Attach, and as such regularly received reports from a number of field operatives. One particular operative was late in reporting and he grew anxious waiting.

After several days of silence, he was about to consider reporting the field agent as missing when a package arrived on his desk in a yellowed envelope. It looked like it had travelled half-way round the world in someones back pocket. Inside was a long telegram (2 pages) from his field agent and a series of surveillance photographs.

Gerling pulled out the surveillance photographs and leafed through them

It was clear that Singh was regularly getting his hands dirty, but as to whether he was still on the job was another matter. He grabbed a pen and a pad from his top drawer and scribbled a note for a return message.

"Maintain distance and surveillance. END OF TELEGRAM." He wondered whether Washington would notice the expenses being racked up by his special surveillance project but he thought it was worth the risk. Washington still didn't know that Singh had - potentially, he was quick to add to no one in particular gone rogue. He looked over a few more of the photos.

Yes it was going to be worth the extra hassle of justifying the diverted resources if it meant he could give a definitive answer to Washington. Singh would show his hand sooner or later, he knew that much from experience.

"This just won't do." He said, tossing aside the photographs and rocking back in his chair. At this rate, he considered, he was likely to get a posting back Stateside some time around the turn of the next decade.

At least one agent was still taking orders.

Meanwhile

Im sick of this waiting. Im tired of getting nowhere in my search for The Jackal, so I decide to bust straight into the UFLL and demand to see Mbantuwe for some answers. As I approach, however, I notice that the familiar guard on the door is talking on the phone and not all that keen on letting me in. His hand hovers uneasily near the holster of his sidearm and I wait for him to finish his call. After putting away his phone, the nameless guard tells me that the UFLL bosses are too busy for me right now and I consider just shooting my way in.

But I resist temptation, knowing that in town and surrounded by several dozen soldiers I would probably not escape with my life. I really do want to finish this, however, so I temper my annoyance and listen to him tell me about some foreigner, some expat mercenary who the APR has captive at the small hut-village of Sediko.

It turns out that the foreigner is one Frank Bilders and it would seem reports of his demise have been exaggerated. I knew him by reputation and I fought hard the urge to address him with a Frank Bilders, I presume but he beat me to it, telling me to get out separately and to meet up later at what passes for a bar in this country.

Checking my map back on the road, I hurry back to Pala, hoping my little detour had given the UFLL bosses time to un-busy themselves. The guard the same one as before lets me in to see them. Voorhees slides a manila folder across the table at me and menaces like a gorilla. Ill be honest; I wasnt really paying attention and I only remember that I was to go kill a guy at the Polytechnic research station.

Andre, however, had other plans. He wanted that guy to instruct a pilot via radio to drop some cargo in an easy to collect location, and I was going to force him to do that at gunpoint. Or machete point, as it may have been. Before he could do that, I had to go get some map to specify where to drop the cargo.

So I took a drive up to the border-town of Sepoko, and on the way I crossed the notorious unnamed bridge north-east of the airfield, losing my transportation to a vigilant rocketeer with a clear shot.

I stopped at a safe-house on the way to my destination and then blew through a couple of checkpoints. Upon reaching the outskirts of Sepoko I started taking some long distance fire from the east but I didnt figure they would be close enough to actually hit me and I thought even less that theyd be crazy enough to follow me.

It was a dangerous assumption because a short while later I had to bail out of my vehicle under the withering onslaught of close-to-medium range AK47 fire and sporadic but deadly-accurate sniper rounds from the town. I then was also being fired upon from behind and add to that a crazy jeep driver roaring up beside me and jamming his truck between a tree and the cliff-face and Im juggling quite a few plates.

I start a few fires, put down some soldiers and thank my lucky stars the soldier firing an RPG at me from inside the complex cant aim to save his own life and instead managed to keep firing into the junk and detritus between us. The scope on my Assault Rifle made it easy to take him out from a safe distance and I approach the complex using what little cover the fire has left.

Inside I swap to my SAW and do quite a bit of spraying and praying, making my way to the building containing the map Andre wanted.

It doesnt really seem all that different from the map I use to get around couldnt I have just lent him my copy? I resign myself for the time being to the task at hand and take my frustrations out on the nameless soldiers that seem intent on announcing their position and movements to me while I creep around behind them.

Andre calls to check up on my progress, and I inform him that I have his precious map. He sounds pleased on the phone and tells me to head to Polytechnic and persuade the radio operator to pass on to the pilot co-ordinates to drop his cargo.

I hot-foot it to the Polytechnic compound, parking my jeep under a shady tree.

I spy with my little eye, some soldiers lounging out the front. I decide to light a fire under them. When it burns down I move in closer, picking them off one at a time using gaps between buildings and the open windows until there doesnt appear to be anybody left. I hear the radio operator calling out to anyone still alive.

Inside the building is incredibly gloomy for such a bright day and as he spots me I rush him with my machete, thrusting it against his neck before he has a chance to draw his fat, gleaming side arm. I hand him the instructions to give the pilot and he taps out the message.

Now Im stuck with a living, breathing dude who I have no use for, and who has a large and deadly pistol on his belt. A large and deadly pistol that he is probably itching to turn on me the second I give him a chance. Then I remember that the original mandate was essentially the assassination of this bloke and that his services were just for Andrs, and hopefully by inference, my benefit also.

However Im mentally unprepared for this kill and it throws my game, I forget to use my flare pistol what has been my calling card for a while now and I instead put a SAW round into his skull at extreme velocity. I track his limp body as it flops to the ground, mesmerised. Andre calls and tells me the plane is on its way.

I go outside and watch its lumbering progress across the sky and only later remember the detail that it already had its landing gear out.

The quickest way to the airport is a swim across the river, up the other side and past the safe-house. A small gap between the otherwise impassable mountains exists on the north-eastern face but its time saving nature is offset by having to run a notoriously dangerous roadblock. I get lucky, however, and skirt round behind some buildings and, oh joy of joys, I get far enough away that they dont give a proper chase.

Well, except for a patrol jeep, but he was coming from the opposite direction.

I end up in a position with a view looking west across the runway to where I can see the fight between Andre and some assorted soldiers.

I dont know where he stashed the cargo from the plane, but I assume its nearby and after beating off the soldiers Andre tells me to go.

Back to Pala I go and the same UFLL doorman is there to greet me. I head inside, still no closer to The Jackal.

Interstitial: Suicide

I have a confession to make. Im considering suicide.

No, not in real life, dont be ridiculous, I have everything to live for. But I must admit that after however many times through Far Cry 2 that its been Im struggling to come up with the will to keep playing, much less to feverishly muster the kind of creative energy necessary to whip an oddly paced and often narratively boring experience into something worthy of your attention. (Because you are worth it, invisible reader) Its weird, though, to think about killing oneself. How does one go about doing so? Ill admit that my mind on occasion wanders, somewhat morbidly, to considering what would happen if I jumped in front of that rapidly approaching train. Or if I climbed over that railing and began the lengthy plunge to the ground from a great height. Or if I just let my car drift across the lane and into the path of that oncoming truck.

Its a kind of morbid fascination that I think we all share and one that sees its most common outworking in the rubbernecking we do when we drive past that fatal accident on the highway. We drive slow and stare because we are imagining that it is out body lying twisted and crushed in the metal, bleeding to death. We wonder what that would feel like. What it will look like when its all over does it really go dark and quiet like Hollywood would have us believe? In Far Cry 2, I know exactly how it will look The Face of Death is a menu screen. In the game I have the distinct benefit of knowing what it looks like in advance, and that it is a real let down. I sincerely hope with all my might that the real thing is much more eventful.

One way in which Far Cry 2 actually is like real life is that I have no idea how it will happen. In contemplating my virtual suicide, however, it has made me realise that it is at least within my power to avoid the ignoble fate of my flattened friend Nels. He was hit by a car in his own version of permanent death and it was a real bummer. By deliberately choosing to make it an awesomely spectacular moment of singular glory and brio I could avoid the unflattering end of death-via-automobile. Im not sure I could bear that ending after investing as much of my time and energy as I have in this strange exercise. But unless I want to off myself I guess Ill remain open to the possibility of being run over. Im not going to kill off Qurbani Singh without reason, however. Even if that might suit the story better.

CHAPTER 4:

Im back with the UFLL. Voorhees and his boss want me to kill an arms dealer called Yabek. Voorhees tells me, I hear thats a speciality of yours. Andre calls me up and asks to meet near Sepoko.

On the way out of town, I stop in to see the doctor and pick up some passports to deliver in exchange for some malaria pills.

After catching the bus up north, I get in a car and am promptly attacked by a bunch of soldiers in jeeps.

I swap my jalopy for a Jeep with a grenade launcher on the turret. It is a silly move and I come close to blowing myself up with it.

Further up the road, I get attacked by an RPG from a nearby hill and swerve off the road to avoid it. I look back over my shoulder in time to see the explosion.

I reach the safe-house and go inside to meet Andre, who wants me to go get a fuse for a thousand-pound bomb he plans to use to drop a bridge on Yabek the arms dealer. As one does.

I picked up a clean new rifle from the weapons crate inside the house, trading it for my dirty and soon to become jamprone AR16. A couple of soldiers had followed me to the safe-house and had set up an ambush at the front door. As in literally at the front door. To get to the crash site and the detonator for Andres bomb I had to pass through the checkpoint that had previously fired an RPG at me and after sniping the rocketeer and checkpoint guards, I took down some more soldiers at another safehouse.

Creeping up to the crash-site, I took out one sniper from distance and used my flare gun to start a pair of fires on both sides of a group of soldiers.

Swapping to my SAW for closer combat, I lobbed two grenades into the group. Two distinct explosions followed by two distinct cries of pain were heard, but I remembered seeing three in the initial group. Peering over the lip of the rocky-outcropping, I spot the last of the trio standing surrounded by flame and destruction.

I put him down with a quick burst, but hes not done yet and, getting up he limps away, the flames lapping at his heels.

I stand transfixed in horror as I watch the poor injured mans fate unfold, believing the fire would soon claim him. However he makes it to a burnt patch where the fire was dying down and I resort to finish him off with anther quick burst from the SAW.

The thought of the unknown soldier dying from the flames really shook me up and I wondered why. Really, why should it, and why now? Ive killed men by fire before. Yet it remained a strange and affecting moment, perhaps a result of some combination of visual verisimilitude and emergent situation. It is exciting to be affected like this by a game.

I picked up the warhead from the middle of the crash site and got a call from Andre it was time to meet him on the bridge. On the way I picked up a number of Reubens recordings with The Jackal.

The quickest way to the bridge was to pass back through the RPG checkpoint from before. I blew up a whole bunch of cars and the enemies using them as cover by putting a grenade under one of them.

I took a bus back to Pala and arrived in the dead of the night. I then drove to the arms dealer and picked up some stealth weaponry to make the most of working in the dark. Taking a boat up the eastern tributary, I made good progress.

On the way, I passed close enough to reach out and touch another patrol boat heading in the opposite direction. It couldnt identify me as either friend or foe in the gloom and I was past it before they could call out. They followed me a ways down river but by the time they caught up to where Id beached my swamp boat I was safely hidden in long grass up the bank.

They did a few lazy circles scanning the bushes for me, but eventually gave up and went back to patrolling. It was another moment of intoxicating, unexpected verisimilitude to real-world behaviour.

After watching the boat retreat up the river, I walked up the road to a safe-house on the track to the bridge pausing to stare at two water buffalo by the side of the road.

Spotting two soldiers up ahead I crept up to the edge of the clearing around the safe-house and opened fire with my silenced MP5.

One soldier on the opposing side of the campfire from me wasnt killed by my initial burst and, in the time it took to take down his friends, had pulled himself up onto his knees and drawn his side-arm. I shot him again and he went down, falling half-into the fire.

Theres no predicting which kills are in Far Cry 2 are going to leave a mark in your memory, but this was another one. Perhaps it was the way he collapsed into the fire looked unsettlingly real. Its certainly been one for affecting moments.

I reached the bridge at the end of the road and spotted Andre down the far end, a truck with the bomb in the back parked over barge below.

I delicately hand over the warheads fuse. No sudden moves he adds, quite unnecessarily I feel.

He then tells me to run for it and I realise that hes armed it just like that and no warning. Im too busy sprinting for my life to get a good look at the best of the fireworks and it kind of annoys me it was a lot of hard work getting that fuse and I expect to be able to enjoy the show.

APR goons swarm towards us like weve just stepped on an ants nest. We had just put their favourite arms dealer out of action. Theyre easily put down however. It is kind of suspicious how quickly they arrived did they let us blow up Yabeks barge on purpose? Was he becoming too greedy even for the APR?

I take a hang-glide and a boat ride to end up back in Pala, searching for more clues.

Tambossa is the only one who will even see me now. Ive used up all my usefulness to the UFLL with the last job apparently. The APR commanders formal army attitude puts me on edge and he tells me he knows Ive been working with the enemy. Of course he knows, however he must still have some use for me or hed have had me shot as soon as I stepped into Pala.

This time he and Greaves want me to stop a DJ from speaking anti-APR propaganda on the radio. The problem until now has been that his transmitter was portable and as soon as they could pin him down hed pack up and leave again. Theyve just spotted him again, however, and now its my job to shut him up.

Andre calls me about the job and asks to meet near Sepoko and since its near the drop-off for the passports Doctor Obua gave me the day before (and which have since been in the water with me and possibly ruined; I havent checked) I decide to detour to meet him. Taking a boat down the western river, I didnt get far before I felt a wave of illness pass over me. As I tossed back a pill I noticed it was the last in the container. Good thing Im on my way to get some more.

Im met with little to no resistance on the way and arrive to find Andre in the safe house. I dont quite know how he got there so fast he must have gone direct from where Id left him near the bridge. But as for how he knew where Id be doing next, Ill never know. I guess theres a reason hes the near-mythical Andre Hypollite. Andre tells me that better than just kicking the DJ off the air, I should get him to read something that will incite the local militia into attacking some official thats in the country. Before I can get the DJs altered message on-air, however, I need to get some UFLL censors finger off the killswitch for the signal.

So off to the ranger station it is, and still in the early hours of the morning, I approach and quietly take out a number of guards. I manage to sneak my way underneath the targets building and shoot him in the head from below. His body goes limp, sliding all the way out of the chair he was sitting in and onto the floor.

I start some fires to act as a diversion while I extricate myself from the ranger station.

Heading over to the phone card shop (as Doctor Obua described it to me) I finally deliver the passports. I take out the soldiers peppering the faade of the building and another soldier ends up wounded on the ground, crawling away to lean against a rock. What is it with me and wounded soldiers today? I hate leaving survivors (particularly when they still have a sidearm) and I equally hate killing these soft targets. Like the man in the fire earlier, it kind of wrenches at me as I pull the trigger.

Wanting to put some distance between myself and this latest fight, I quickly hand over the passports, the civilian giving me a look as he gets up to collect the documents.

I leave for my new target the DJ Lord Haw-Haw. What a stupid name. Im looking forward to getting a chance to shut this guy up as Ive been hearing him talk over and over on the radio ever since I came to this country.

The sun comes up on the way and I change my loadout, opting for a shiny new super powerful, super automatic shotgun.

To get to the DJ I have to go through a small cluster of buildings labelled on the map as Weelegol Village. Its pockmarked with soldiers.

I charge into the place with my big Land Rover and force my way up the front stairs, blowing up something flammable in the process.

Soon, everything is on fire and obscured by the smoke.

It quickly clears, and it is plain that most soldiers were unfazed by the blaze and are already pressing the attack. To top it off, a jeep appears behind and two or more soldiers begin shooting into my back. Im now surrounded, and only by popping three syrettes in a row can I stay on my feet. I make it over to a rock formation to the west and take a breather. With a full magazine and a lungful of air (as opposed to lead) I take down soldiers one at a time from a position of relative safety behind a large rock. I even manage to catch one with my flare gun at 100 paces!

Heading south towards the DJ and his transmitter, a RPGwielding lookout launches a rocket toward me. I get a dart off but miss and I notice as the rocket rapidly approaches that Im surrounded by potent explosives.

I high-tail it, sure that Im not going to make it far enough away, but thankfully the rocket packs it in on the surface and doesn't hit near enough to do more than singe my eyebrows. I steady for my second shot and score a hit as he launches off another rocket still aimed at me however it goes haywire, presumably from the failure of the guidance system, as it does a few loops around the hut from which it was fired.

The DJ is no problem once I show him my machete and he speaks the words I give him over the radio without hesitation. He spits an ineffectual Fuck you! after me as I stride out of his bush-studio.

I threw a grenade under his transmitter to shut him up.

Andre calls and I go to his aid, driving a jeep over three soldiers as they stand in the road shooting. More turn up but I was by then getting the hang of my shotgun.

I clear out another safe-house on the way to the busstation and what should happen but two more soldiers are wounded rather than killed by my initial shots. The wounded soldiers survive my attack to get up onto their knees.

Whether its from the visceral joy of firing my new toy, or because Im getting inured to euthanizing wounded soldiers, I fail to hesitate on these two.

Back on the road, about 100 metres from the bus station I come across this grisly scene.

There appear to be no survivors.

In Pala the sky was a glary white colour and rain spattered the ground in thick, uneven drops. Holding my map up to the sky to keep the face of it dry, I planned my route.

The mission APR commander Tambossa had given me was to blow the Mertens-Segolo pipeline the one that pumps water out of the lake and into a neighbouring country. Greaves seemed to have reservations about cutting off the water supply to a neighbouring country. That could just be because he is getting kickbacks from the company, but I have no way of knowing. Still, it wouldnt surprise me. Tambossa has more gold on his chest than many small African nations and Greaves, his mercenary advisor, seems to equally enjoy the spoils of war.

Even after taking a bus to the south-western corner of the country the mornings glare is still hanging around, as is the rain. Perhaps it came with me from Pala.

I entered a safe-house to sleep out the rain and the sunshine that followed it. Leaving at dusk, I stepped out into an orange, hazy twilight.

A guard post is across from me, separated by a small valley and about 100 yards. I approach from the east as the darkness lengthens and get off a couple of dart rifle shots before drawing the attention of the soldiers. A number of explosives are set off in the ensuing fight and before long the whole checkpoint is going up in smoke.

I walked down the path to the Taemoco Diamond mine where I was to get the explosives that would allow me to sever the pipeline. Starting with the guard in the tower, I made use of my dart rifle again before swapping to the shotgun.

However it had seen a lot of use by now, so while in the middle of fighting my way down some stairs it promptly jammed and I had to hammer the stuck cartridge loose.

Grenades and Molotovs were applied to the problem of soldiers, and when the coast was clear I picked up the explosives and fielded a call from Andre. I had noted his failure to call when I first picked up the mission. He wanted to meet, so I obliged, trekking through the bush to another nondescript safehouse.

Andres plan (he always has a plan) is to really mess the pipeline up by busting the emergency stop valves or something so that when the real damage is done to the pipe it will rupture and overflow more than just the water that was already in the pipe. Or something like that anyway.

I made my way to the pump control shed by climbing up onto the overhead pipe itself, sneakily taking the guards out with my dart rifle from a safe distance.

Getting inside the small shed and blowing up the controls alerted a mortar crew on a nearby island. Only by sprinting away and crouching in the jungle was able to lose his attentions, his eyes like a hawk. How he could see enough of anything in the dark to land a range-finding round clean next to me, Ill never know.

Secondary objective achieved, I was off to the main pipeline, approaching with stealth. Taking down the first guard I saw, I attracted a number of others, one of which decided to throw a grenade into the bush I was using for cover. Seeing it coming plain at my face, I felt a momentary panic and I sprinted to get away, it exploding quite close behind me.

Having lost my cover by diving into the open ground of the road, the soldiers attempt to add some ventilation to my torso via their bullets. Needless to say, I hurriedly got back into the cover of the bushes and returned the favour.

Strangely enough, the guards never rushed my position and instead chose to pepper me with near misses and wild shots from an inordinate distance. Im not sure if they were trying to stay close to guard the pipeline, fearful of an attack from multiple directions by multiple assailants, or if they just werent sure where I was because my weapon was silenced.

Either way, they stood around in a big, unmissable line so much like soccer players defending a penalty shootout. Except I wasnt kicking a ball at them, and they werent falling to the ground from simple groin injuries.

Eventually there was only the sniper on the tower left and Id saved my last dart rifle shot for him. I aimed and pulled the trigger only to have the rifle mis-fire and jam. I duck back behind cover and batter at the rifle to eject the cartridge. It doesnt seem like a good idea to re-use a dart that has already gotten stuck in the chamber already, but I give it a shot, making sure not to miss . . .

I dont.

With no one else around I gather up some supplies and plant the explosives on the pipe, standing back to watch the sparks fly. It goes off with a happy bang and my mission is complete. Andre calls from the mine, saying that he can see the water rushing in to fill up the diamond pit.

I dive off the side and into the water and realise just a second too late that I have done something incredibly stupid. From high enough even falling into water can kill, and there are also rocks at the bottom of the cliff. A sinking feeling comes over me but the fall blessedly isnt long enough to either kill me or leave me in suspense for long. I make it safely, but it was close. Damn close.

I take a boat down the newly formed creek formed by my own actions with the pipeline, no less, and it is a little bit empowering to know that I can have such an effect on the environment.

At the mine I spot the soldiers attacking Andre and quietly take out a pair with my dart rifle.

I swim over to the other side of the diamond mine as the centre of the pit is now completely flooded. Using my silenced MP5 to take out the rest of the soldiers, I hear some moans of pain and purple smoke Andre is down. Ive been waiting for just such a moment to have a plausible reason to take him out, so I reach for his side arm and place it against his head.

But then I hesitate. This isnt the way I want this to happen.

Instead, I put some morphine into him and get him on his feet again. He thanks me and returns to his usual jocular self. Still the feeling of wrongness persists, and I realise that I still need to kill Andre. I tell myself that now Ive placed a gun against his head he wont forget it. I cant turn my back on him so he needs to be eliminated.

It feels wrong, but I pull the trigger while aimed square at his head. Further wrongness- the shot doesnt kill him and he limps lamely away from me, a desperate and pitiable thing.

The second shot succeeds where the first fails and Andre lands awkwardly, face down into the dirt and grass. It still feels very wrong to me, which is appropriate I suppose, since theres nothing right about death, but I didnt want it to be like this. I feel annoyed that it was such a lame ending to his life no epic battle; no blaze of glory. Just another meaningless death in a meaningless place.

To make myself feel a bit better, I blow up my jeep on the way back to the bus depot, reprising my earlier premature memorial to Andres death.

It makes me feel better.

Mbantuwe has one last job for me collecting a briefcase of diamonds from the APRs Oliver Tambossa. Its being given as a gesture of good faith and it could spell the end of this war. No wonder Voorhees is pissed off. More than that however, he knows something about this isnt right.

He scowls at me and growls, Youve gotta ask yourself who benefits from this deal, China. Vorhees is trying to warn me, meanwhile Mbantuwe is jubilant. He says This will be a great day for Africa!

Downstairs Hakim Eccebi is here to meet me in person. He tells me that this new peace deal spells the end of our time in the country and hes got a pilot lined up to fly us out of the country but Ive got to bring the diamonds from Tambossa to pay for it. Ill need to double cross Mbantuwe. I have no problem with this.

Outside a soldier snacks on a muesli bar. I cant remember the last time I had a decent meal.

When I arrive its clear, however, that someone else has beaten me to Tambossa. The village is strewn with dead soldiers and a fire is raging. Inside I find Tambossa.

Closer inspection reveals that his diamonds are still here so whoever did it wasnt after the diamonds but something else.

I pick up the case, ready to make a quick getaway when what should appear but the smiling mug of The Jackal.

He knocks me to the ground and gives me some spiel about how this was what I wanted or something. Youll forgive me if Im fuzzy on the details because he stomped me in the face and took my diamonds.

I wake in what is clearly a jail cell and I soon hear the friendly voice of Eccebi he tells me the pilot left because I didnt bring the diamonds and were now in jail, probably to be tortured or executed. Or both. Hes taken away by two guards and I kick a piece of crumbling masonry out to reveal the open door to Hakims cell the soldiers left behind. I make my escape.

Outside it is dusk and I hear guards patrolling nearby. I find some weapons and shoot some of the guards, making my way down and into the bowels of the Prison, looking for Hakim. I could have left him but wheres the fun in that. I dont get to kill him myself if the guards do it.

I let him go but he needs a bit of time to recuperate and he opts to hang around a little longer while I make my escape.

I get on an ATV parked outside and shoot off down the road and away from the prison. I blaze a trail through a kind of checkpoint on the road, and get very badly wounded in the process. I dont think I have a rescue buddy anymore.

I get to the bottom of the hill and my phone rings. Its Greaves on the other end and according to him hes now running the APR in the place of dearly departed Tambossa. He wants to meet, as hes consolidating the remnants of the APR before the UFLL can make a push and take over the whole of the country. I get a sense of dj vu recalling what happened to me the last time one side or other gained the upper hand.

I find a boat and make a mad dash east to the bus station. On the way I get attacked by a million and one soldiers and am eventually forced to abandon the boat on an island under a hail of fire form the shore.

I end up swimming to the mainland

After taking a bus to the very north of the map, I hop on another ATV and zip over to the gun shop to pick up some more survival guaranteeing weaponry. On the way there I run into a jeep patrol and hop off to return fire as my ATV provides dangerously little protection. I aim at the oncoming jeep and suddenly realise with a sinking feeling that it is heading right for me.

At almost the last second I remember that even a small bump from a car can be a death sentence and I felt nothing short of an adrenaline rush. I moved the fastest I possibly could to dive out of the way of the vehicle.

It is a moment of genuine terror and the jeep still comes precariously close to flattening me with its front end. Hopping in after dispatching its occupants, I look back to see where the soldier fell. Hes lying in almost the exact place my own body would have occupied had I been hit by the vehicle. Its a sobering thought and I swap to more conservative long range weapons as a response.

My brush with the jeep-of-death instils a renewed sense of wariness in me and I play it very safe, hiding behind my vehicle to take out soldiers with my high powered rifle.

I make it back to Sefapane and meet up with Greaves who welcomes me with open arms. He wants to level the playing field, so Ive got to take out Tambossa. Seems fair, so I agree.

The UFLL leader is at the brewery down south which means another long trip. On the way I take a hang-glider.

And shoot at people from a long way away.

I get into a boat and skirt the Port of Soleo on my way to the brewery. The patrols on the south part of the lake have gotten heavy and I have to take one out before I get within even a kilometre of the brewery. Mbantuwe is stepping up security and with good reason.

Getting closer, a mortar team locks onto me and starts landing rounds deadly close. I swing round to where hes hiding on a tidal island, trailed by another two patrol boats. I bail out of my vehicle just in time as scant seconds after reaching solid land I hear my boat being blown up by a mortar behind me. I take out the one-man mortar crew before he has a chance to get his machine pistol trained on me. My transportation off the island, however, has now been was destroyed.

Thankfully, the plethora of patrol boats means I can pick another up without too much trouble. Nearby soldiers from the brewery are drawn to the conflict and line the banks of the shore opposite. I pick them off with my rifle.

Boating over to the brewery, I take out the now spooked soldiers with ease. They run around in circles and run right past me without spotting me. I also pick up some more diamonds.

I head inside the main house at the brewery, ready for a showdown with Tambossa. I even remember to bring my flare gun.

Tambossa is nonplussed to see me, to say the least. He cusses me out, and I shoot a flare at him. It goes wild and ricochets around the room, setting things alight.

I retreat through the doorway to reload. Tambossa has his sidearm drawn but my second shot is more accurate than the first and it knocks the gun right out of his hands. He falls to the ground, his clothes catching alight.

If the initial burns dont kill him, the house burning down around him surely will.

Interstitial: the stats so far

CHAPTER 5:
For lack of a better idea I head back to Pala, where I meet the new UFLL boss Joakim Carbonell. Remember him? Its been a long time, and Ive come a long way, since I first met Carbonell. In that time hes moved on up in the world so much, in fact, that he now wants me to work for him. Specifically, he wants me to kill another mercenary for him Voorhees.

Ah that could be a problem. I dont really want to kill Voorhees. He tried to warn me (albeit fruitlessly) about the ambush I encountered on the last job I did for Carbonells predecessor. Why would I want to kill Voorhees?

But a jobs a job. I decide to take it and the doorman lets me out.

Voorhees is at the diamond mine, Fact finding again I wonder what thats a euphemism for? Pillaging and taking anything of value before fleeing the country, most likely. Lets cut to the chase I killed him.

But I really didnt want to - I shot his aide first, and it must have pushed him over the edge because then Voorhees started shooting at me. Of course, when people start shooting at you it pretty quickly forces your hand. Reuben Oluwagembi, the reporter writing the story of this crazy conflict, called me soon afterwards and asked to meet at the bar.

I hear big, heavy land cruisers arriving outside and soldiers getting out. Carbonell was not about to let me live either, naturally. I mean, what really separated me from Voorhees anyhow? Life and death right now but back when he was breathing there was precious little.

As I stood in the doorway to observe the soldiers Carbonell had sent to kill me I felt a bout of dizziness, and had to crouch and take some malaria pills. I hastily fired a pair of flares into the undergrowth near a jeep to take the heat off myself.

Eventually I made my way to the bar and met with Reuben. As I entered the room, however, I came face-to-face with a man Id never seen before. He was clearly a hired goon for the guy sitting at the table nearest the door, who addressed me in an American accent. He wants to talk after I see Reuben.

Reuben, meanwhile, is getting edgy the American is there to take him to the airport to show him the results of some big UFLL/APR battle. Understandably he doesnt feel safe going with them without some insurance. Im to be the insurance.

I agree to come help if Reuben gets into any trouble, unsure of what good itll do. I wont be able to save him from anyone thats dead set on killing him. Still, he is reassured and I go talk to the American.

Hes the new UFLL big boss-man, or rather, he wants to be. He tells me where to find Greaves who is on another fact finding mission. Naturally.

A boat, a bus and a drive later and Im at the outskirts, and I have some heavy weapons.

The first thing I use my grenade launcher on is a car that is drives straight at me.

Meanwhile, someone starts firing RPG rounds from inside the compound.

I advance on his position, using the large rocks for cover.

I eventually get him with a well aimed grenade.

Inside and its time for Greaves to get his comeuppance. Unlike Voorhees, I actually do want to kill him, so I dont waste words.

His aide tries to cut a deal in exchange for me not cutting his throat. Hes going to make a phone call and Ill be able to get inside the APR HQ with all my weapons. A shot at that smug American idiot from the bar? Sure, why not?

In Pala, the door guard says the usual spiel. Alright man, arms up. No weapons. Before I get a chance to hand them over he casts a furtive glance up and down the street and opens the door, letting me inside with a conspiratorial thumbs up.

I grab my flare gun.

When I enter, the American blusters and screams at me What are you doing here? Why arent you at your post?

A flare knocks the wind out of him and he collapses into his chair, arms splayed in an oddly balletic pose.

On the way out, I get a call from Reuben who wants my help at the airfield. Meanwhile the house is burning down around me, and Im about to step out into a small village worth of hostile soldiers. I tell Reuben Im on my way.

Outside, I dont see a single soldier while madly dashing to the nearest Land Rover. Theyre looking for me, obviously, since I can hear them, but theyre not looking too hard. Internal power struggles are happening on a daily basis now, so the morale of the average foot soldier must be pretty low. Have they really become that inured to their leaders dying?

I clear out a checkpoint on the way east to the airfield, and change cars, getting into a new Land Rover before heading down the road to the airfield.

As I round the final bend before reaching the airfield proper, I see soldiers. I dont see where precisely it comes from but a rocket is launched at me from close by. Incredibly it explodes mere meters from the hood of my vehicle and I quickly bail out to avoid further hazards.

An assault truck roars out from behind one of the big hangars and I use the distance to safely explode it with my grenade launcher.

I have another problem, however, in that a soldier on the hillside is launching mortars at me and I have to keep moving to avoid the incoming rounds.

I try my best to avoid becoming a stationary target, all the while using the junk of the airfield for cover to approach the position of the mortar.

I take him out only by placing myself in the middle of the airstrip, exposing myself in the process to an RPG wielding soldier on a raised platform to the south.

Spotting me, he fires and I dodge to one side, turning to watch it explode a ways behind me.

I take out some more soldiers with machine guns and go inside to meet Reuben. Hes trying to get some civilians out of the country while adamantly refusing to leave himself. He entreats me to do what I can to meet with The Jackal and cover the civilians escape from the country.

I dont really see how we can possibly get everyone out, but I agree anyway. Its time to head into the heart of darkness.

Airport are dreary places. They are often the last place anyone sees of a country, and a whole nation can be reflected in its airports.

This one is run down, broken, dirty, and is infested with bandits and murderers. In a tiny corner of a backroom somewhere, huddle some civilians.

I leave them and head back to the bus station in Pala, cutting a noisy, explosive swath through the countryside.

Down south, I continue the last journey Ill make in this country. Not wanting to hurry I stop in at the Marina Bar.

The place is utterly deserted. Rueben is not in his chair hes off trying to save civilian lives; Frank isnt here either presumably he gave up on waiting and went back to whatever he was doing before he got caught.

Outside I take a last look at Andres barge, still sitting there half-scuttled in the middle of the marina. I consider swimming up to the bridge and taking a look but I know theres nothing really to see in there.

I continue my journey and things seem to keep blowing up near me with alarming frequency.

I continue my journey to the prison.

and get distracted while driving, ending up with a crashed UNIMOG. I recall a similar car crash back at the very start of the game, itself catalysed by a distractingly beautifully waterfall.

I enter the prison, from which it feels like I only recently escaped, and The Jackal waves me over.

He launches into a long screed, saying to me, People back home, they want to help you and me we found a way. That something just happens to be cutting off the head of the beast that is eating this country. You could kill them anyway you like. Think of the possibilities! he tells me. It almost incidentally includes saving some civilians while were at it.

Part of the plan in ensuring the civilians reach the refugee camps on the other side of the border requires that I retrieve the briefcase of diamonds that The Jackal took off me before I first landed in prison. Apparently the arms dealer made off with them and now Ive got to get them back off the slimy bastard. Will I get to use his own guns to kill him? That would be deliciously ironic.

The first clearing I reach bears witness to the fact that The Jackal has turned hostile towards the other combatants in this war.

The next clearing is populated with far less deceased personnel, and they violently resist my attempts to make them otherwise.

I actually come dangerously close to dying a couple of times in this little skirmish. I moved myself into a really bad spot and got outflanked. Meanwhile the fireworks I set off to act as a distraction fail to do their job. By the end I have to restock several of my syrettes.

I head into a swampy section, past a beautifully cascading waterfall.

I brought along the high-calibre rifle for this section because I wanted to be able to keep as much distance as possible between myself and my dangerous quarry.

This is what happened to the soldier who got the closest.

As I continued on my trek through the steep-sided valley, I passed over a slight ridge and felt another wave of nausea. My vision swam and I popped a malaria pill.

I could hear a soldier not far ahead of me and I took aim while the illness receded. Good thing these pills are fast acting.

In the next section of jungle there was a deep ravine and before I passed through the bottom of it eliminated the soldiers milling about in the area from above. I reached a downed plane, crash wreckage and dead bodies strewn about all over the place.

Finally up and across the ravine, I come to a safehouse and I stop to admire at the setting sun before retiring inside.

After a brief nap, I study the map. I have two objectives and two possible approaches. I decide to head north to where the now united, surviving leaders of the UFLL and APR seem to have a camp.

I see the familiar cease fire signs at the entrance to the camp.

It doesnt take long to find the new leaders theyre discussing plans inside a small hewn-log house. To my advantage, the cabin is half-open to the air. But before I lodge a few well-placed bullets into their respective brainpans, I want to say Hello.

Theyre not too happy to see me. Before my presence so rudely interrupted their conversation, they were talking about sending scouting parties out to find civilians, The Jackal, and presumably myself. That I would brazenly walk into their camp and their ad-hoc HQ left them, understandably, a little flat footed.

As I leave I notice just how full of soldiers the camp is. I try and find a nice quiet spot to do my business. Across a deep ravine from the HQ cabin, I go to work.

Later, as I sprint toward the south-eastern exit from the camp, I remark to myself about how relatively easy it was. I head further south and into a safehouse to sleep the rest of the night away.

Awaking in the pre-dawn, I prepare to go and retrieve some diamonds.

Eccebi waves to me as I approach. Im not entirely sure what hes doing here. The last I saw him he was languishing in an open jail cell, a jail cell I left open for him.

I barely have time to parse the situation before Michelle steps out from behind the crashed chopper. Shes instantly hostile in attitude, mentioning something about having made a deal and that I wasnt part of it.

A gun appears in her hands and I dont hesitate. I unload a number of rounds into Michelle, as a number of my other former buddies appear out of nowhere. I barely register as she staggers and falls down and I turn to shoot Eccebi who doesnt seem to have decided whether he wants to be a part of this traitorous attack or not. Im interrupted however by the painful sensation of multiple pellets tearing through my right side. I spin around and beat a hasty retreat, injecting myself with a syrette as I go. I find some meagre cover behind a small log, but Im quickly outflanked and forced to try and move again. Someone Ive never met is on my left firing in quick, dangerous bursts and to my right Warren Clyde.

A shot or rather several in a row is heard. Part of me detaches from the present and Qurbani Singh slips away from this life into the next. Killed by stupid, goofy, smiling Warren Clyde.

Xianyong Bai waited around until everyone else had left; first the group of foreign mercenaries and their case of diamonds to bribe their way out of the country; then a short while after The Jackal came by to close the eyes of the deceased. Finally emerging from his hiding spot, Xianyong took one last photo of his target and uploaded it from his satellite phone. Adding it as an email attachment, he pushed send, the message addressed to one pgilding@stas.co.za

Qurbani Singh woke up in a safe house and stopped being Qurbani Singh. He became Ben Abraham, blogger, writer, self-appointed videogame critic and Far Cry 2 player extraordinaire. Qurbani Singh had recently died, and yet he was still alive. If he could produce the Descartes maxim, he could perhaps ask himself if he thinks. However Qurbani Singh did not, does not, think. And so neither did he exist at least, not in the same way that the author can prove to himself that he exists. Cogito ergo sum I think, therefore I am. More to the point, in Qurbanis case it would perhaps be accurate to say that Ben Thinks, Therefore Qurbani Is. Even though he died, he existed (exists) in Bens mind as an idea; a character; a mask; a persona; a time and a place; a performance. At this, the conclusion of the story, there is a chance he also now exists in your mind, reader as a character in the story that is Permanent Death. That story is now finished. His story finishes with his death. However the game is not yet finished, and the game is not the story. While the game circumscribes the story, the game is not the story. While the game informs the story, the game is not the story. The story is what you are reading now; what you have just finished reading. But the game that was Far Cry 2 wasnt finished yet. Likewise, neither was Qurbani/Ben. The story is finished; the experiment concluded; the narrative written. Everything that comes after is the game.

This Was Permanent Death.

Qurbani Singh woke up in a safe-house, and became also Ben Abraham. He was aware of what had come before, and he knew what was about to come again. He was not afraid of death, for it had lost its importance to him. It had lost its control. He embraced the impermanence of being videogame. He became Large. He contained Multitudes. He embraced the accumulated knowledge that came from previous experiences many games, many names, all in the one player. World became Game and Qurbani became Us.

We went outside and towards the landing zone where Qurbani had died before. We saw Hakim Eccebi standing there and we shot him from a long way away. Nothing happened except that Hakim died. We approached and grabbed the briefcase.

Michelle appeared out of nowhere and pulled a gun, and Qurbani/Ben knew this was coming so he was ready. We held the trigger for long enough to ensure that she was permanently dead, then he turned and ran.

From a small hut we started shooting the others. First Paul Ferenc was shot through the chest. Twice, to make him stay down.

Nasreen Davar shot a propane tank in front of us and Ben/Qurbani recoiled in habituated wariness; the learned tension of the threat. Then we laughed it off as we realised that death held no power anymore. Grave where is your victory? Death where is your sting?

Nasreen was shot, and last was Warren Clyde. He was no different. As our shot rang out the wind blew a leaf right past our sight, and with it he was gone.

We wandered around and took pictures of the dead, hoping to find one alive so that we could experience euthanizing a survivor, but our high calibre rifle was an indifferent and indiscriminate tool.

We moved east, and towards the end of the game. Before we went far, we turned and shot a flare back over the landing zone where we killed the in-game assets known as our Buddies. We did it not because it held narrative importance, but because it was what we wanted. It was fun to imagine a motivation for this, so we pretended that it was another memorial. In reality it was not. It was just another action Qurbani/Ben took together. It was however pretty and it pleased us.

We went and shot some more soldiers on the way to meet the Jackal. We were still feeling a sense of accomplishment for having beaten the buddies who had earlier killed Qurbani and the newly dispensed with fear of failure increased our performance. It felt thematically appropriate when we hit the first three of five soldiers with one bullet each, and we hoped we could make five from five. But We fail and miss. We know that its okay though, because this was not a story, nor a film or a novel. We fail. But this is videogame.

The Jackal tells us the tale he has told us a number of times before. We are faced with a decision that is really no decision at all. Regardless of our choice, we can if we so desire, reload to come back to choose differently. Or even choose the same again. What a strange co-incidence - The Jackal is now using a flare gun place of his normal sidearm.

We choose to pick up a car battery, but we have chosen the briefcase before also. The Jackal says In one hour we will both be dead. It is confusing because this is videogame and death now means very little.

We engage with some more soldiers, pointing and clicking at them until they fall down and die. The sun is coming up, and the choice made earlier to sleep through the night in the safehouse potentially sets the scene for a beautiful morning.

This spot looks familiar. In some ways, it looks better than it did the first time we were here (under DirectX 9). Later, however, after comparing the screenshot taken almost a year ago with this one, the author considers loading and going back to watch the sun rise. It was prettier when it was lighter.

Qurbani/Ben approaches the explosives and notices that it has started raining. We think it is pretty in its own dreary sort of way.

The music stops. We set the charge. We click a button and the screen goes blank.

THE END

SPECIAL THANKS TO:

Clint Hocking & the Far Cry 2 team The #GBConfab IRC Channel The people too numerous to mention who have provided feedback Everyone who ever linked to Permanent Death My friends and family You, the reader

All images screen captured by Ben Abraham in the PC version of Far Cry 2, running on an Intel Core2 Duo 3.0Ghz, with an Nvidia 8800GT, 4GB RAM, Windows 7 RC1, DirectX10 and in-game settings mostly on Very-High. All text written and arranged on-page by Ben Abraham, licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 2.5 Australia License 2009.

Body Text Font Neighbourhood by Andy Chung

http://www.andychung.ca/work/neighbourhood/
Main Titles and Heading Font Capture it by Koczman Blint

http://www.dafont.com/capture-it.font
P.4 Quotation font OldNewspaperTypes by Manfred Klein

http://www.dafont.com/oldnewspapertypes.font
Far Cry is a trademark of Ubisoft Entertainment.