Modern RPG of older qualitites

I pulled my arm back aggressively; it was obvious that this sniper didn't understand my way of life.
No longer wishing to look him in the eyes, I stare at the ground and mumble;

"What's there to talk about? I need this job more than you'll ever know. So unless I wish to ruin my reputation, no, I don't think I'll be following you anytime soon."

I walk over to the cliff where the sniper had been perched, checking to make sure that there weren't any surviving Vyborgs that could report me. Suddenly I felt a sharp pain in the front of my left thigh.
Glancing down at the wound, I noticed a small tear in my infiltration suit, which blood seemed to be drizzling out of. Upon realizing what had happened, I gasped in alarm of my injury.
I had been shot in the leg with a high calibur round from on of the now deceased Vyborgs; the adrenaline I had injected prior to the mission had kept me from noticing it until now.

"....Oh.....fu....."

Suddenly, I felt my grip on reality slip away, and passed out.

I quickly ran over to the spy and picked her up. I handled her with care and I quickly took her to a shaded area. I took off her boot and sock and sprayed anti-bacterial foam on the wound. Then bandaged it up quickly. I looked down the road and saw more soldiers rushing to the battle area. In our current position we could've been spotted so I moved her to an enclave.

"Damn..."

My own arm was bleeding from a bullet wound from the Vyborg.

Okay?

I then realized it wasn't safe here and picked her up again. This time heading a few miles out south east of General Uldins base. There, was a makeshift hideout made from spare wood and metal. I put her down on a bed being there was only two in one room. I then got a cloth and wet it, promptly laying it on her head.

"Please be alright...I've seen enough deaths"

I was having a pleasent dream. I was back on Malia with the rest of my clan, out hunting as we usually did each afternoon. Although the women of the tribe were usually left behind to cook and take care of the children, I had demonstrated such an adventerous nature and bravery since my early childhood that I was one of the first ever to be allowed to the role of hunter.
Just as I drew back my arm to hurl my makeshift spear at the fleeing Mackey Bison, I was startled by the abrupt feeling of warm moisture on my forhead.
Slowly drifting back into reality, I realize that the sniper had taken me to some sort of makeshift shelter, and place me in one of his beads. As I was raised, people didn't show such kindness unless they wanted something for you in return.
I struggle to sit up but I am painfully reminded of the laser wound on my thigh. With a sudden yelp, I fall back to the matress.
I slowly turn my head to look at the sniper, who was waiting patiently by my beadside.

I jump a little less than 5 feet when she yelped. I took the rag off when she turned her head.

"Are you okay? Do you need anything? Water?"

The man's kindess continues to amaze me. There must be some catch to it. I'll have to ask him later, when I have the chance. I'm certainly not going to argue with him while I'm bed ridden.
I sigh, and respond to the sniper's query.

"ahhh..... screw water.... do you have anything that will make me forget the pain? I need alcohol."

I had never once drank alcohol while on Malia, and still refused after joining the Iron Fist Mercenary Commune. But when my brother was killed by a group of slavers on Malia when I should have been there to protect him, there was only one way for me to numb the mental and emotional pain of loss. Drinking.
I realized that I wasn't treating the man with the kind of hospitality he had showed me. It was imperitive that I act kindly to him if I wished to have any leeway in our future argument.
I stutter the word as it barely escapes my lips. It had been quite some time since anyone had treated me with any form of generosity.

"...p...please."

Although I had been laying perfectly still, the pain in my thigh swell up again. I groaned and clenched my teeth. I didn't want to show any weakness.

I quickly ran to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of beer. I opened it and handed it to her.

"Please rest its okay..."

Still exhausted, I barely manage to utter the words before gulping down the beer.

"th...thann...k you."

I set the bottle down on the table to the left of the bed and relax into the sheets, crossing my arms behind my yeah while I let out a loud yawn. Before I begin to doze off, I ask the sniper the question that's been pressing me for quite some time.

"W....who the hell are you?"

I was taken aback by the question. It was only dumb of me not only to take a spy yet a stranger into my home, but not properly introducing my self either. Suddenly very tired I lean on the other bed and lay down ontop of the covers fully alert if she needed anything.

"My name is..."

Before I could get the words out I noticed she was asleep. I quietly close my eyes and have sweet dreams of home.