DONE BY: Ubisoft

IT’S FOR: Xbox 360/PS3/PC

YEAR: 2008

Here's a bit of Far Cry 2.

It's morning. Around 7:30-8:00. The sun hangs low and large in the sky, bathing the African village of Palo in a golden glow. I'm outside the UFLL headquarters, getting felt up by an ugly bald man with an M-16 strapped to his back.

"Sorry bro," he says with less-than-subtle sarcasm. "Gotta make sure you're unarmed."

Weapons confiscated, he waves me inside. I can hear Leon Gakumba and someone I don't recognise arguing upstairs. Politics as usual. Gakumba is a real political guy: all grandiosity and good intentions. I'd rather not have anything to do with him, but right now, nobody else is paying.

The argument draws to a sudden close as soon as I enter the room. Gakumba and his guest turn to me and immediately get to business, taking turns to outline what they want me to do.

Gakumba: Our vile and hated enemies have too much of Something X.
Guest: That's why we want you to go to Location Y and destroy Item Z.
Gakumba: Here is your payment.
Guest: And here is a warning: our men will still shoot you if they see you. Don't ask why. It's a secret. Now go.

And then I'm out the door again. I check my gear, and realise that I should stop by the gun dealer on the way out of town. Looking for a good car to steal, I run up the dusty main road and past the church, at which point my phone rings. It's Michelle. She's heard about what I'm doing and wants me to come meet her at a safehouse up in the mountains. Sure, why not. I jump into a parked jeep and gun it out of Palo.

Following a road lush with jungle vegetation, I head north until I reach Mike's Bar, an expatriate dive on the shores of River Whatsitsname, a couple Ks out of town. Foreign mercenaries hang out there, offering jobs in exchange for their continued friendship. Friendship is very valuable around here. Friends come rescue you when you've been shot to shithouse by some arsehole's jeep-mounted machine gun. Friends help you complete jobs, and give you extra work when you need it. It's good to have friends.

Right now, though, I need something even more important – weapons. Across the road from Mike's Bar, in a tumbledown shack made of green corrugated iron and rotting wood, is an arms dealer. I walk inside, sit down at the ancient computer near the counter, and order a few upgrades for my handgun and rifle. Then I head next door, to my conveniently located armory, and pick up the gear I think I'll need: a Desert Eagle, some grenades, some fuel for Molotovs, my bolt action, my RPG launcher, and some magic healing syringes. Now back to the gun dealer again to save at the big blue disk on the wall.

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