"The game is up, Señor. It has been fun, but all games end eventually."
A sinister smile forms on the older gentleman's face. "It's possible to win the battle, but lose the war, young halcon. That is a lesson you have yet to learn."
Angered and frustrated, you grip the trigger. As it slowly depresses, the man begins to laugh. The firearm clicks; the swinging hammer sets off the explosion in the chamber. The room is electrified as the bullet flies down the barrel. The hairs on your arms stand erect, chills shoot down your body. The round exits the muzzle at over a four hundred meters per second.
Time slows as it approaches its target. Your mind is in chaos; thoughts flying throughout the entirety of your skull. Your emotions form a thick soup, tumultuously clouding your senses. Anger, frustration, rage all permeate your being, but are equally conflicted with peace and contentedness. Bubbling up, they erupt as the bullet penetrates the head of the smiling man. You had spent the last four years working for this man. You hated it, but it was work, and it paid well. You learned the skills necessary to survive the wastelands, but more importantly you learned the skills to survive in a war-zone. Throughout your entire time away from home, you wanted to see your parents again; they were the only ones you've ever met who showed you even the slightest bit of love.
For the first time, you were truly in control of your own destiny. You could fight for your own life, make your own decisions. Nothing could take that liberty from you now. Nothing at all.