I owe my life to the man in factory who chose not to shoot me today in the factory. I was making my way to the extraction spot after one of the damn scavs had stolen all of my gear save my P226 and a few rounds. I saw a BEAR not 20 meters ahead of me armed with a kedr. I slowly snuck up on him hoping to sink my axe into his skull, since ammunition is something I can't afford to lose. However he suddenly runs off and I lose him lose him. Not 5 seconds later, 10 meters in front of me I see a fellow USEC clad in armor with a Saiga in his hands.
I had heard stories of the blue on blue fire that had been occurring between supposedly allied operators as the situation in the city deteriorated and I knew my time had come. He looked at me and I looked at him, expecting to be creamed. To my relief, he looked at me and simply nodded. Me, still fully expecting these to be my final moment nodded back. We stare at each other for several seconds and then he turned around, facing the office building. He attempts to signal he is friendly to whom I presumed was another USEC; He was met with a hail of bullets and retreats to cover.
Watching from relative safety, I decide to pull my pistol out of my small satchel to help defend my new found friend. I then look to the man who spared my life and nod as to assure him I had no thought of betraying him, even if for just a second the sinful thought of betraying him had crossed into my mind. Instead, I nodded and he nodded, we both stepped out from cover and lit that asshole up. The aggressor returned fire but fell backwards to the floor; I turned around to look at my friend. He was down on the floor, with a pool of his own blood forming around him.
Struck with sadness that I had lost my friend so soon, I rushed over to his lifeless figure. I tossed on his vest and bag without searching them, knowing that they would have supplies vital to my survival. I grabbed his heavily modified Saiga and in those sad, adrenaline filled moments, I forgot to take his armor. Having grabbed my friends gear, in a fit of rage, I proceeded to empty my last 9x19 bullets into what was now a human Swiss cheese that lay on the ground. It was then that I noticed he had a kedr and wore a now tattered BEAR uniform. It struck me that he was the BEAR who I attempted to kill. This filled me with guilt, perhaps if I had killed this man earlier, my friend would still be alive. In the distance, I could hear scavs yelling in what I could only guess was Russian, as their footsteps got closer I was forced to leave my friend were he lay without even grabbing his dog tags and leave him to the scavs. I was lucky that I was able to find the exit to that factory before the scavs found me, and in doing so I got a step closer to ultimately escaping the god forsaken city of Tarkov.
Whoever you are; I would like to thank you for giving me a chance. After days of hiding and being pushed around, being robbed by scavs, you presented a glimmer of hope. And even in death, your gear and supplies will greatly aid my ultimate escape from Tarkov. I now realize that without this gear, I could never survive, let alone made it out of the city. Thank you my friend and may you rest in piece.
-From the diary of an unknown USEC c. 2028