Arthur McMillan is no stranger to trouble. Living a long 44 years he has embedded himself in the Irish underground. As a young man he joined the IRA to fight the British army in the troubles in Northern Ireland and such was ingrained to hold a bitter hatred for the British Army that he felt had invaded his home land.
Arthur is a man of many talents. During his time with the IRA he learned Guerrilla tactics, the assembly and maintainence of firearms. He would arrange complex operations to cripple the British Army in a multitude of ways and even fight in offensives when the time came too. As part of the IRA he also participated in acts of Terror against the Loyalist population, however Arthur does his best to forget these actions. Being that the operation was not so wealthy, Arthur often found himself rigging together the most outlandish solutions for his operations and found himself to be quite a Jury-Rigging Extraordinnaire.
However it felt like he was living two lives, as Arthur was raised by his mother who was a devout Christian and always taught him to be good and tolerant. Arthur would often find himself confused as he would go out causing mayhem during the night, then come home to the most moral environment a man could experience at the time. Arthur would have nightmares, like the things he had done were haunting him. He would wake up clenching his chest with a gut-wrenching guilt consumed him. After years of dealing with this, it shaped him to be a different way. Arthur would never kill unless there were no other choices, an attitude that would land him in trouble many times.
In his later years the fighting in the North had died down and most of his comrades abandoned the cause. Arthur found himself there in a small group of fanatics with a cause to fight for but no energy to fight. Arthur just started to obtain weapons for the group. Whatever way he could, he would travel to the strangest arm pits of the planet; Secluded parts of Africa, The Middle East, Asia and especially Russia, and he would deal with the gangs, freedom fighters, the fanatics and any man with a cause and a couple of guns to strike a deal with. Arthur did this for many years as he thought when the cause in Ireland was revived the guns would be ready to go.
Regularly his little adventures would land him in a spot of trouble he'd have to fight to get out of, but this trip was very unique. Arthur flew to Chernarus to meet with extremist militias, blowing smoke and helping in whatever drug run or import/export job they needed done to get a good deal on hardware. It seemed everything was going off without a hitch and Arthur got what he came for and made a few friends along the way, until Arthur had went to a secluded spot of the coast where he had told some of his colleagues to dock a boat, assisted by a unit of hired local men to make sure no mistakes can be made. Upon walking up Arthur is greeted by his colleagues and they all get to work loading the gear onto the boat. "Took ya' long enough" says one of the team. "Well sorry te' keep ye' waitin" says Arthur. They both laughed and each reached out their hands to shake when suddenly the man in front of Arthur is shot in the head. Arthur was stunned and immediately fell backwards only to see and hear bullets fly overhead that mowed down the rest of his team. As the last man fell a silence fell and Arthur, still stunned, waited to see what would happen next. Branches snapped and boots stomped and suddenly 5 men dressed head to toe in hunting gear ran through the foilage into Arthur's view. One man ran straight for the boxes and popped one open, seeing it was weapons he looked very pleased. Two others kicked the bodies of the fallen and popped a few more in the head for good measure. Meanwhile one man takes a good look around and spots Arthur shaking on the ground, he slowly approaches and in a thick accent says "Bad business. You should have been more careful." And stomps his boot on Arthur's face knocking him out.
Arthur will later wake up on the coast, terrified. He is split on whether he would like to hunt down the men that murdered his brothers or if he would just like to be home in Ireland. "Well let's focus on finding a way out of this place and hope we meet those bastards on the way".