I always wondered why Jacob hadn't been mad when I told him that I had murdered his father in cold blood. I had thought about it until I had almost lost polishing my new found love—the shining blade.
He had always been fond of his father, despite the old chief's lukewarm attitude towards him. The Ol' Chief had been prouder of than he had ever been of Jacob. He never failed to tell that I had far exceeded everyone's expectations. The uncertainty nagged at when I was younger, I had considered that he resented for being the apple of his father's eye. When I had approached him with the sa inquiry, he had laughed it off and had inford that he would rather not raise the bars. Expectations broke easily and they lead to adverse consequences, he had told . He had been a bloodied wise kid.
"I am a soldier," I rembered him telling , "not a leader. You are better at handling mind gas." His words had echoed in my ears.
As I spent more ti around Jacob and saw him function as the head of the organization, I realized that he really did believe that he was incapable of leading and instigating his employees.
No, he was not free from ambition, quite the opposite, actually. He hadn't acted on his ambition, but neither had he let anyone on about its existence. Despite being apprehensive about taking over, he seed to welco the title of 'chief,' wearing it as a badge of honor.
Not for a single mont did I doubt his love for . He loved with all his heart, but Jacob Hunt was not as noble as he thought he was.
He used as a shield to hide the changes he was making in the organization. Anyone who saw would associate with his pride and the strength of the organization. After the unfortunate death of his father at my hands, most agents believed that it would be a matter of ti before the organization was in shambles, but Jacob played on their emotions and used their awe of to keep them back, reassuring them and giving them hope that the business would grow bigger than ever before. His calm deanor and my lethal temperant bound the rest of the flock in.
His ideas were radical. He divided the classes into teams, training them as a unit like he had intended for the group of hooligans. He introduced what he called "refresher courses" to keep the agents up to date with the latest technology and information on the cri scene of the world. He nurtured each and every mber, tutored them so that he could easily bend them to his will. He did it all with a commanding voice and a smile that could win over hearts. They looked up to him as the just employer.
It had taken a few months to co to the conclusion that Jacob Hunt was a devious bastard.
Going undercover was not in the cards for . My experience in the field, though extrely exciting, wasn't worth the trouble. The number of tis my life was threatened in such situations made want to reconsider taking back my job in the organization. I hated being a sniper, too. I wasn't impatient, but I found no thrill in waiting for my target all day long to get a clear shot. There was no anticipation, no adrenaline rush when the trigger was pulled. It was too far away from the action, for to enjoy it. So I had turned to fast hits. I compiled information, ford a plan and then executed it as soon as the opportunity arose. I had no ti to be obsessed with just one situation, the other arose instantly. The fun part was that I could see my target dying. Shooting at an inanimate target could keep happy for so long, right? It was the only way I could let out all the pent out anger and resentnt.
He used my inclination to his benefit and ford another plan out of it. He thought I was a good teacher (albeit a really strict and unconventional one); I was supposed to take practical classes where I would question targets, murder them or have to cut them up for one cause or another.
"I have a new assignnt for you," he said as soon as I entered the room. I gave a once over to the room, still fascinated by the change in the appearance in the room. A year did not make it easy to accept the change in the Chief's room. The whitewashed walls have been painted in masculine tones, and the overall mood of the room had changed from cold to professional and inviting.
I gave him a level stare before sitting right across from him. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk and his chin on his fisted knuckles. A smile played across his lips.
"Hello, Chief," I greeted. "How are you doing this morning? I thought we were going to discuss the financial fronts today," I teased, light-heartedly.
"We always do that," he replied, dismissively. "Aren't you excited to find out who you are going to take out this ti?" the conspiratorial tone almost ignited my curiosity.
"I've killed over forty people over the past year," I exclaid. "Have you heard the news lately? The law enforcent has divided opinions about : so think I am a hero, others think I am a serial killer with a penchant for murdering criminals." I sigh. "The na doesn't really matter anymore. It's beco sowhat of a routine," I shrugged. I liked challenges in fair amounts. If things got boring, I would have to find another way to get my adrenaline rushing. I wondered if the assignnt Jacob had for would bring about the necessary change.
"The disposal team does a good job, Marie."
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