One shot, down, next. Two down, next. Three down, move locations. Bullets ring through the air. The life of a hitman is a hard one, especially for the newest one in the community, John. Although not my real name it was enough for the employers to find me if they needed.  Killing civilians is a quick and easy job for a couple grand. Just one last target and I would be done with this job. I turn the corner and see the next one walking through the choke point of the alley. Not his best day I would imagine. It’s not too fun to have your life ended from a bullet that came from down town, literally. Going, going gone. The mans head goes down with a scream. The job is done and another bit of money is in the bank. I lay the Ruger 243 hunting rifle down inside the beaten up Toyota and drive away. I head back to the agreed meeting point for the last half of the money. Ironically the meeting point is the place worst for my kind, a park. Wide open cameras all around and dozens of potential witnesses. Awful place for everyone except little kids who run around and play. But for another ten thousand who wouldn’t go? I walked in and cringed in the bright light. I had been shooting from a dark, abandoned hotel waiting for my victims to walk past. Took about three days for that one moment for all three to be lead into sight like the employer had promised. There on the bench was the man himself. Tall, skinny and dressed in a business suit. Two others walking seemingly aimlessly around his general area appeared to be bodyguards. Didn’t matter much who was in the way of the money though. I check my left sleeve for the single shot toxic dart launcher. Compressed CO2 gas, light efficient and deadly. The other sleeve contains the trusty karambit, just in case things went wrong. Which for the “employer” it would be. I walked up to him and gave three taps on the bench. He nodded to a briefcase sitting beneath the bench. I opened it and saw it, ten grand it nice stacks of hundreds. I patted him on the back. I Iet my hand linger and pulled the silent release of the dart. A little tack like object flew out. My own special dart mix, special brew of novacane to instantly numb the part so they don’t notice and cyanide to kill in a small bit of time. He noticed nothing. I picked up the briefcase and walked away the the truck. I headed down to the real employer. I reloaded the dart just in case thing went… ary. The real money was about a million give or take how much would be spent at the casino. This was more like it. A old warehouse was the meeting place. I picked up my own briefcase and walked in and immediately had mixed feelings. Up on top of the crates were a mass of people from what looked like a mix of a mafia and the slums. Fitting, I thought as I walked in. The Employer was at the back of the room with a dead body as a foot rest. With all the gold on the wall, he still prefered to use men like cushions, putting them where he felt they should be. Not that I much cared as long as I got paid the due amount. I spotted a small briefcase at the foot of the corpse. He said one thing, “small unmarked bullions, twenty four karat, just as agreed”. Gold was the only thing I trusted. Gold could be stored and always had worth, always a need for it. I pawned it as needed and kept the rest invested in illegal arms, drugs and gangs for a cut of the money. I never had less than two million in the bank though. Cops that came into school always said crime doesn’t pay. Pathetic, close minded thinking never made money. Money was made at the brink of the volcano named danger and death. I opened the briefcase and smiled. One hundred bullions of gold, unmarked. At least this client knew how to pay. I only asked for eighty but this ‘tip’ was worth a good nest egg in another dealer. I closed my eyes and unloaded the gold into my personal briefcase. The “Employer” chuckled and said “don’t trust us much do ya”. I said nothing, never provoke or challenge the upper hand. I finished unloading and walked out. When I got to the car I noticed something. A siren wailed in the distance. I swore under my breath and jumped in the car as fast as I could. The cop car appeared on the hill and I took off past the car. Any hitman worth his bullet removed a random license plate from another car somewhere to swap out. To be honest I had never had a legal plate on the Toyota. The truck sped up and rocked past the blaring siren of a car. To my dismay multiple S.W.A.T cars appeared from seemingly nowhere. I heard a sharp pop and my car swerved to the right. I hit a giant boulder and my head slammed into the steering wheel. I came to my senses and assessed the damage. Slight concussion and not much else. The car was totaled and I was now surrounded. I got out and threw the briefcase into the bush before they noticed it. I knew where I was headed, prison. Depending on what they found possibly life sentence. I was pushed to the ground by a burley man and was handcuffed. Just wait it out I asked my body. As soon as I was alone I could escape. Chains were simple to break if you knew how to. A needle pierced my neck. I swore as I was pulled under. How long had passed? Where was I? I woke up and found my hands to be detained by something much stronger than chains. I opened my eyes and was looking straight down the barrel of my own gun. A woman looked at me through the scope. I heard the familiar click of the bullet being racked in. How ironic, killed by my own gun, my best friend. My only friend. “It’s been a while, partner” the woman said. “I must be in Hell”, I thought. I cursed out loud. I had tried so hard to escape this past. I had been caught by Special Forces. The woman was my old subordinate, Jay. Once upon a time, two years ago I enlisted here and ranked up so fast I passed my trainers in no time. Until the day I slipped up. It was a simple job. Sneak in, kill or detain the gang member and get out. No money, no drugs taken into custody. Three of us were part of the assignment. Me, Jay, and It. I call him it because nobody seemed to know his name. No sign of emotion had ever been displayed and he never talked. We went in and found everyone passed out from alcohol. “It” immediately started with the sleeping gas. They went out for good. By the man I had been sitting by, checking for wanteds had a duffel bag of hundred dollar bill wads. Money was tight, we had to buy our own bullets now at the department and they were expensive. I grabbed on of the bundles and they exploded. Not the money, the building. "It" had decided to take a turn for the worst. He started throwing small handheld explosive packages. They looked homemade. They would stick to the walls and explode a few moment later. Before I knew the Glock-18 was in my hand and "It" was missing a piece of his shoulder. Jay, who had been outside giving a report only saw the bullets go into the unnamed man and the walls crumbling. A small chunk of cement fell from the ceiling and hit me on the head. I went out like a sack of bricks. I woke up in a small room at the station. As I woke up I noticed what room. The interrogation room. To make a very long, very upsetting story short I was prosecuted, discharged and sent away to a small prison on a desert. By small I mean it held forty people and was full. Two weeks later and we were all out and the guards and warden had "Mysteriously Disappeared". I wound up on the road with the gun I had found in the Wardens office. The same one I use to this day. I went on the road and through some twists and turn wound up in debt to a gang. I promised to eliminate one person for every thousand I was in debt. Ten people later I had a regular paycheck working at a gun range. I did the skeet range which was fun but not nearly enough pay. I decided to go back to the gang and made the exact same deal. Only this time for profit. It was a good life. I received protection from the leader and I had a very profitable job. And just a few months later here I am. In the same place, just a few years later. Jay had asked a question. I hadn't heard. "Repeat that please" I politely asked. Apparently being a higher up in that doesn't earn brownie points as a criminal. We went through the basics. Why were you there? Why did you change? How did you get out? When you used to do this for a living you know what to expect. When to expect it and how to counter it. The same method can apply to interrogation.