Grit: Breather 2

He knew that some of the people that he dealt with would laugh if they saw him out here, but he had to ask himself how they maintained their calm. How did these people achieve moments of peace in their lives, or were they always at war? Did they only thrive on conflict? He was a workaholic and he liked killing the scum that he killed but there was more to him than that. He wasn’t some low-rent psychopath – he had always used his violence as a tool. To  be able to use anything as a tool you had to operate from a clear-minded place that on the surface might appear to have nothing to do with the task that you were performing.

Who were the best killers? Not the ones who went beserk and charged in and started hacking limbs off left right and centre – well, sure they might take out a load of civilians easy enough and even in a business environment where they were faced with other professionals they might take a few out by sheer force, but your experienced killer wasn’t just going to rush at a target like that – they would wait and they would prepare.

He knew that dealing with so many different crews and so many different brands of bullshit that sometimes it didn’t sift right in his mind and he might misconnect two unrelated groups: that was dangerous. You had to know who was who and where their loyalties lay or you might find yourself seriously fucking up. He had to be careful anyway because he was a freelancer who did what he did for money and nothing else – he had never killed anyone on a blood oath, for honour, or any of that kind of bullshit. People trusted him purely because he delivered on what his contracts asked him to deliver on, but working with a hitman you knew that you might have him on your tail a week after you’d paid him to off someone else.

Grit looked up and saw a grey squirrel leaping between branches. He looked down and he saw a Tree-creeper going up the trunk of an Oak. Was that the distant sound of a Bittern? Yeah, this was a definite palate cleanser.

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