Max Simons was born in Sydney Australia, the largest of cities down under, on the 5/8/1996. Throughout his youth Max was characterised by two loves, his fanatic love for his local rugby team; The Manly Sea Eagles, and his love for the Australia. Two years prior to leaving school Max was far from the sharpest tool in the shed, however he showed amazing athletic prowess, gaining him the opportunity to trial for Manly. Max was accepted into the youth system, however on his 18th birthday a drunken Assault in Sydneys Kings Cross gained Max a criminal record and resulted in his departure from the academy. Of contract and looking for work Max decided a stint in the military would be a great idea to make some easy money, he had always had a fascination with guns and war… Max applied to join the Australian 2nd Commando unit, however was turned down due to his criminal record.
Heartbroken, hungry and poor; Max left the recruitment office fighting the tears of rejection. As he was about to get into his toyota shitbox of a car he heard someone trying to get his attention. A man in a blue tracksuit, flashing a rolex watch and diamond rings called him over; he was African American.
“You look like you're struggling boy, how bout you do some work for me”...
The blue men nicknamed Max ‘Mule’, for obvious reasons. He spent the next year flying from one location to another transporting drugs, often from South America to New York and back to Australia. Slowly these drug flights took a turn more serious, bulk cash and weapons started to make its was into Max’s ‘Shipments’.
The 11th of July seemed like a normal day for Max, he woke up in his hotel room in Chernarus, some shitty ex-soviet block country. He slipped into his blue Adidas tracksuit and began making his way to the ‘drop’. The deal was Max’s cocaine he’d snuck into the country for ex-soviet weaponry used in the country's civil war not to long ago. With the whole country seemingly occupied with some bullshit border skirmishes against the Russians it seemed like nothing could possibly go wrong with the exchange. Max stood on Cherno’s docks for ages, waiting, waiting. Boredom grew and Max began to daydream, thinking of home and rugby; all of a sudden screams snapped him into reality. Something was wrong… very wrong.