He wrote letters.

He wrote one to you...

he asked you...

to stop.

He asked me to stop.

He asked us...

for peace.

But it's too late for that.

Even if we wanted a deal now, it doesn't matter.

I'm gonna kill you.

How did it happen?

What?

How did he die?

Was it us?

Was it the grenades...

the fire?

It wasn't you.

God dammit.

Shit, I um...

I am sorry.

You know I wanted him to be a part of things.

I had plans.

That kid...

That kid was the future.

The only future is one where you're dead.