the racks examining the weapons, there were some gaps where a few of the rifles seemed to be missing, he kept stock as part of his job here so knew where every rifle, magazine and bullet was.

The kid would stay in there playing soldier for hours he imagined. He did, and he was a grown man. Considering the opening words of the note, probably more than the person who wrote them, he pulls the control suit open to reveal the wound in his abdomen:

Steve: Great, I’m Dear Steve now. You know a note is bad news when it starts like that.

Taking a cotton bud and cleaning fluid he begins to wipe away the excess ooze, blood and grime from the wound as he continues reading:

This place is