| From: | "Paul J. Adam" <Shadowtk@********.DEMON.CO.UK> |
|---|---|
| Subject: | Thinking Alone |
| Date: | Wed, 25 Nov 1998 23:53:48 +0000 |
>>>>>[Familiar routines, ingrained habits. The HK227 doesn't really need
cleaning, but I've got it broken down in front of me anyway, with the
tools of the trade to hand: scourer pads, shaving brush, thirty-weight
oil and drylube. I'll change the batteries in the Aim-Rite-Lite and the
smartgun adapter, too.
It helps, to remember I used to be a soldier. I was a SEAL. I was
_good_. Good enough to run a UCAS intelligence agency. I used to
_matter_.
Now? My abilities haven't changed. But how are the mighty fallen, and
the weapons of war perished!
I'm living under a fake ID, hiding guns in my closet, just one more
criminal buried in the statistics. I'm hiding from who I used to be.
Christian Mitchell is dead until I can safely resurrect him. And while I
like Cat and I like my apartment, I hate the work and I hate most of the
scum I have to associate with.
Bu then, that's the point, isn't it? Maybe I can pull off a grand coup,
expose whoever set me up as fall guy, vindicate myself and get back to
where I was. Maybe I'll die trying. But for sure I'm not going to turn
into a whiny self-indulgent parasite.
I win or I die. They pounded that into me during BUD/S.
There will be a payback.
And payback is a motherfucker.]<<<<<
-- Mitchell <23:53:57/11-25-59>
