Page 40 of Everything That Kills Me
“Makes things right.”
Jack was ten when Thomas told him exactly what an adjuster did.
“An adjuster kills bad people.”
“Is that what you do when you go away? Kill people?”
Thomas nodded.
“Like James Bond?”
Thomas laughed. “Nothing is like that.”
Rules had been drummed into Jack from the day Thomas rescued him. Simple ones to start with, such as always making his bed, cleaning up after himself, checking both ways before crossing the road. That when Thomas said stop, Jack must stop.
As he grew older and understood he was training to be a professional assassin, then came the rules he had to live by. Apart from not getting caught, all were of equal importance.
Move seamlessly between worlds.
Jack’s former life had ended when he was six. He’d been Jack since then but sometimes he needed another name. From the moment a mission was accepted, his world would change. He had to be an expert on his legend, know the answer to every question he might get asked, and answer without hesitation. One slip could get him killed.
Be in control of his surroundings at all times.
He had to know who and what was around him. That car coming up on his right could hold someone who wanted him dead. That woman bending over her baby’s pram could be reaching for a gun. Had he seen that person earlier? That car? That motorbike? Was the look that man gave him innocent or not? He could not afford doubt. Yet he had to suspect everyone.
Make no assumptions.
They could get him killed. Prepare for the worst-case scenario in any situation.
Blend in when he needed to.
Wear the right clothes, do the right thing. Drawing the wrong sort of attention could be the end of him.
Always be ready.
Stay alert.
Avoid emotional attachment.
Jack shouldn’t get involved with anything outside the instruction he’d been given to follow. He mustn’t allow himself to be distracted by a dog that’s about to get run over, by a child who’s cut their knee, by someone being robbed… Though Jack knew he’d struggle with this. If he saw someone drowning, was he supposed to leave them to drown?
Strangely, Thomas seemed pleased when he questioned the rule. It was his choice, Thomas told him. He was to weigh up the consequences if he strayed from his objective. If he missed the chance to strike, would there be another?
Protect the innocent.Jack thought that seemed the most important thing to remember.
The chance to practise what he’d learnt came when he was twelve and a half. Thomas told him that at some point in the next three days, Jack was going to be kidnapped.
He’d been excited. What an idiot!
He’d thought he’d spot them before they grabbed him. Idiot.
He thought he could withstand interrogation. Idiot.
He thought he could escape. Idiot.
He did manage to hold off talking for a while but in the end, he was too worn out to keep fighting or silent. Even so, he told a story of his own, part truth, part lies. He’d made it up and locked it in his head. He clung to it even after they’d driven him out into the countryside and left him. He’d been given a small backpack and a waterproof jacket, and told to find his way home without being spotted.
A tarpaulin. Compass. Bottle of water. A knife. No food.
