I could tell you that I watched other people's worlds fall apart with the cool, calm demenor that my job demands. I could tell you that I didn't mind it when my job ruined other people's lives. I could tell you that nothing bothered me about my job. I could tell you a lot of things similar to this and up until about five years ago they would be true.
That was when my life fell apart. That was when my life was ruined. That was when my job was the worst thing that ever happened to me. That was when I was burned.
But there are still a few things I could tell you now that I could tell then.
I never truly mastered that cool, calm demenor. Most people considered me crazy. I love explosives and guns and other objects of mayhem.
Maybe I am crazy, maybe that's just the way it works.
I don't really care at this point. You want to know why? I've still got a job to do.
A new employer.
A new mission.
And it is almost the same. Almost but not quite. Because I have had this new job for five years. It had been five years since they died. We killed. And I am close to finding out what really happened.
So I have a feeling things are changing. It could be the new op I have to handle. His name is Michael. And he gets things done. Or maybe it is fate.
Either way something is up.
A/N- I will continue this if you guys like it. Please let me know. Thank you.