Creative Title

A common assumption about those who wish to carry guns is that they are trying to be vigilantes and want to “take the law into their own hands.” Through speaking with multiple people who shoot regularly, one would soon find that many are not only very moral people, but also tend to be emotionally level. CHL holders have never attempted to hunt down criminals or get revenge, and many wouldn’t even have anyone against whom they wish to take vengeance. They go through the trouble of getting their permit because they realize that they cannot always rely on someone else to protect them should a life-threatening situation find them. Even in those situations, shooting is the very last resort. Only about 24% of people who have used a gun to defend their life have had to fire at all (Kleck and Gertz). This also helps quell the fear that allowing more guns in a given situation would always lead to “bullets flying everywhere.”

This very situation was demonstrated in 2002 at the Appalachian School of Law. The shooting could easily have escalated and most certainly would have resulted in more deaths, but at the first sound of gunfire, two students separately grabbed their personal firearms from where they each had them at the time, and, with two other students who tackled him, helped subdue the attacker without needing to cause anyone any harm.

The entire gun community is a highly diverse group of people. There are people of every race, religion, gender, socioeconomic background, and political philosophy within it. There is a stereotype of them all being either rural white men or inner-city gangsters. As with any stereotype, that’s not without basis. The large majority of gun owners do happen to be white men, though just about every gun owner would probably be insulted when compared to the very criminals against which they wish to protect themselves.

Naturally, many of the people who get a CHL are a part of this culture. Again, many happen to be white males simply due to the proportion within the community, but a wide variety of others also choose to go through the trouble to obtain one for a variety of reasons. There are women who realize how much weaker they are than men (Miller, A.E.J. et al.), parents who wish to protect their kids from kidnappers or pedophiles, good people who can’t afford to live in a great neighborhood, homosexuals who wish to avoid becoming a victim of a gay-bashing, the disabled and elderly who simply can’t fight back any other way, and many more.

More often than not, CHL holders often practice accuracy on paper targets, and many attend tactical shooting competitions by organizations such as the International Defensive Pistol Association (IDPA) and the International Practical Shooting Confederation (IPSC) in order to simulate possible real-life situations. Since they have made the decision to take their life into their own hands, they also realize how much they need to be able to do so efficiently. As a result, they are far from amateur, which is another unfounded assumption made by many without much experience amongst those within the firearm community.

Such training is necessary for scenarios such as home defense, a street ambush, or similar situations. While it remains useful on college campuses for the more likely attacks of robbery, rape, kidnapping, or murder, such practice is not even entirely necessary if a lone gunman were to open fire. In both the Virginia Tech and Northern Illinois shootings, there were reports of the attacker slowly or calmly reloading the firearms. It does not take incredibly quick reflexes to take the shooter down while his gun is empty and his attention is off of the students.

Another frequent misconception is that a person could “just snap” and that allowing regular people to carry in places that are currently prohibited is a risk for that reason. However, just about any psychologist will say that average people who fall within the boundaries of normal psychological makeup don’t decide to commit mass murder without signs for at least many months beforehand. It is true that there are crimes of passion, but there have been few, if any, incidents involving CHL holders, who submit to a mental and criminal background check in order to get their license. There have been no studies done on the subject, but many who do carry concealed weapons often notice themselves avoiding heated arguments and being more polite when they are carrying. One can only guess as to why it might be, but the usual conclusion is that they don’t want to get into a situation where they might have to defend their lives.

There are alternatives to guns, though none are successful as often as a firearm at stopping an attacker. Pepper spray is a very popular choice, especially with those who wish to avoid killing or causing extreme harm. However, there are instances when this wouldn’t be effective in fending off a criminal. For example, it’s possible to build up an immunity to the substance such that it can simply be shaken off like water. Even without the immunity, however, more determined assailants may not give up after being sprayed. Tasers are also commonly suggested, but they don’t work against multiple opponents, since they only have one shot. This also causes a large problem even with a lone attacker if one should miss.

Many people also carry flashlights, which are to be used to temporarily blind an opponent so that one can run away. While this is a clever idea that is perfect for those who are extremely unwilling to harm another, it’s not without its major fallback. It doesn’t take long to recover from a bright light, which doesn’t give the would-be victim a long time to get away from the danger. They’re also only effective at night and, while the majority of attacks do occur after dark, many encounters can still take place in broad daylight.

Lastly, there are many various martial arts that teach self-defense techniques for bringing down an opponent while causing minimal damage to oneself. While these are often very good techniques that could stop an attack entirely, one must be incredibly practiced in order to use them successfully. Not only that, but the attacker needs to be within arms reach for one to even be able to attempt a counter-attack. If the attacker is standing yards away with a gun, and all a person has is martial arts training, it’s highly unlikely that he or she will be able to reach the attacker before the trigger can be pulled. There are also many people who cannot learn martial arts due to age, disability, or time constraints. The elderly and those with disabilities also oftentimes can’t run away from the danger as fast as others, even if they were to use one of the previously-mentioned means of escape.

The following is my last paper for English last semester. The requirements were 10-12 pages on a topic of our choice, and frankly, I'm shocked that I had the metaphorical balls to choose gun rights for mine. However, I only managed 9 pages due to seeing someone the night before the night before it was due, when I was planning on starting it. Thus, it has been definitively proven that a guy you break up with a week later is not worth 10 points on a paper and skipping a class for the first time ever to get some sleep the next day (sorry, calculus). Nonetheless, it's 9 pages of an apparently "eloquent" argument (so much so that my teacher actually gave extra supporting information at one point) that I'm rather proud of having written, so it will be broken up and posted over the next three days. References will be included in part three.

The current social and political dogma in the world is that guns should only be used by government-sanctioned individuals such as the police and military. Most people don't question this logic, since they have never considered the possibility that it might not be entirely true. The majority of people wouldn't actively think about this topic, yet it is usually in the back of their minds as an accepted ideal. Nevertheless, there are millions of regular citizens who believe that it is a complete fallacy that the majority of the population cannot be trusted with defending their own lives by the most effective means available. There are many facts that show that allowing the general populace to carry arms is not only safe, but also necessary in many instances.

College campuses, particularly, have been a very important battleground for this issue. As school shootings grow in both frequency and number of casualties, the voices on both sides of the issue have grown stronger. Advocates for allowing weapons-concealed handguns in particular-on campuses believe that far fewer people would have died in these massacres had a student or teacher been armed and able to stop the gunman early on. Those against it claim that allowing guns would only create more incidents of violence in what would otherwise be a safe environment. Yet, while violent crime and mass shootings continue to persist amongst gun-free universities, there haven't been any incidents involving concealed handgun license (hereafter CHL) holders on any of the campuses in Utah, a state which requires its public universities to allow these people to carry.

A criminal, by definition, does not obey the laws put in place by government officials. Why would someone intent on something such as theft, murder, or rape be deterred by the fact that it's a felony or against a company's policy to carry a handgun into certain areas? History has proven that prohibiting an object or substance does little to hinder either its production or its consumption. It's well known that alcohol was still rampant in America during prohibition. Marijuana has been regulated since the 1930's, yet it is still a commonly used recreational drug today. Similarly, criminals in areas such as New York and Washington D.C. still manage to commit many crimes with guns, despite the outright bans in those cities.

There have been numerous studies that compare crime rates with gun control laws. A very popular study sometimes referenced by the pro-firearm community was performed by John Lott and David Mustard in 1997 (Lott and Mustard), and showed dramatic increases in crime in areas with stricter policies. Many efforts have been made to falsify the claims made in this article, and the results are now all but inconclusive. Due to this and other factors, much of the work done by Lott is not generally accepted within academia and is no longer the greatest source for this information.

Yet there have been other studies, one in particular, that have gained great credence amongst firearms supporters. Gary Kleck and Marc Gertz found, among many other things, that gun control had little or no effect on crime rates (Kleck and Gertz). While this doesn't further the argument that criminals avoid areas with liberal firearms laws, it does show that allowing the general public to be armed will not cause the escalation in violence that many unfoundedly believe will come to pass.

Some may argue that gun control legislation makes it easier for police to identify criminals amongst regular citizens. However, one would expect a criminal to conceal his weapon for just this reason. The argument may turn then to a situation where police arrive on a scene where two people have firearms, and are unsure of which might be a criminal. In order to answer this, however, one must assume that law enforcement will show up in time to see this. Since the average police response time can be anywhere from five minutes to an hour (Bureau of Justice Statistics), and most violent confrontations only last a few seconds, it's highly unlikely that this hypothetical situation would even occur in the first place. In the rare event that something like that may happen, the cop's reaction would depend highly upon the situation, though one might guess that the demeanor of a concealed license holder and that of a criminal in the midst of his offense would be vastly different.

Law enforcement response time is itself a major factor in how necessary it is to allow citizens to carry concealed firearms. A popular expression in the gun community is, "when seconds count, the police are only minutes away." There are simply not enough officers to be everywhere at once, or prevent virtually any instances of violence in society. In fact, there have been multiple court cases in the U.S. that have ruled that police have no duty to protect individual citizens (e.g., South v. Maryland, 1855). If it is not their responsibility, then whose is it? The average person can't afford a personal bodyguard, yet no one can expect to live their whole life without having to walk home at night or be alone at any point. If the average person is barred from carrying a firearm in less than safe situations such as these, what would he or she be able to do if faced with a criminal who, due to the criminal's characteristic disregard for the law, is carrying a weapon?

Another one of Jeffrey’s missions, another million screwups. Honestly, the kid got everything wrong. I seriously don’t know what to do with him. It all started when he walked into my office and yelled (even before the door was closed, I might add), “I got another person to kill!”

Really? Has all subtlety disappeared from the world, or has it been a figment of my imagination all along? Like a puppy that had just made a mess on the carpet, he looked at me as if my wrath were completely unfounded. After things settled down, I allowed him to explain the new mission to me. The target was an old lady living alone in her late husband’s mansion. Even better, she was practically a hermit; she never left the house, and only rarely spoke to anyone at all. It was another impossibly simple one, though this one does require a bit of planning and tact.

Unfortunately, planning and tact are the two things Jeff seems to lack the most. First and foremost, I asked him, “So how do you plan on carrying this out?”

The dumb bloke replied, “I dunno… shoot her?” Yep, I couldn’t stop my headsmack-reflex.

“Alright, let’s see…” How could I get it through his skull? “What happens to the person you kill after you kill them?”

“Isn’t that the job of a priest or someone to answer?”

I sighed. Temper, Gina, temper. “The body! What happens to the body? I mean, who looks at it?”

“Oh!” It was like he’d just solved world hunger. “The police, and… we don’t want the police finding us.”

“Right! Therefore, what would we rather the police not find when they look over the body?"

This one took a minute, “Evidence!”

“…And they would look for evidence when the death looks like a…”

“Murder, right? So we don’t want it to look like a murder.”

Yes! Finally got through to the kid. We then went into more planning for the crime. I let him try to think of everything, but he just doesn’t know anything. He suggested getting in through the air ducts, which everyone knows no one can even fit through in anything but a public building… and even then, it had to be one large building.

Then there was the execution. We’d settled on him pretending to be a meter-reader in order to get inside the premises. Simple enough to work with, right? He pulled up to the gate in the (“borrowed”) van, myself crouched in the back, and rang the buzzer. A guard’s face came up on the screen and asked, “Who are you?”

His voice sounded nervous, “Yeah… I’m, uh, Frank from the electric company, here to read the meter. O-Otis, your usual guy, told me it was inside.” I peeked around the seat to see the back of his neck nearly covered with beads of sweat. Idiot! He’ll only believe you if you act like it’s all true.”

The guard was silent for a painful 38 seconds before asking, “You got any ID?”

“Uhh…” Jeff sat in shock for a moment before turning full around to whisper to me, “What? I… I don’t have any!”

“Shh! Just act like you’re searching for it over here; you’re doing fine. Now turn back around and smack your chest like you might have it somewhere in there.” As he turned, I moved closer behind the seat to keep whispering, “Act real upset. Tell him you must have forgotten it again. Your boss knows you forget it a lot, and will fire you if you miss one more house because of it.”

Jeff repeated after me, throwing in a nice “oh crap!” at the beginning and thankfully remembering to change my “you” to “I.” Yes, believe it or not, he almost didn’t.

Also thankfully, the guard believed his very assisted lie and let us in. He must have been new, because the meter actually happened to be on the outside of the fence. For obvious reasons, I avoided letting Jeff in on that little factoid.

He drove up to the front door and parked. After checking for video cameras facing our direction, he waved for me to follow around the side of the house. Once there, we spotted an open window on the second floor. I took out a (I know it’s cliché) grappling hook and threw it up to latch onto the roof above our entrance. After making Jeff clamber up and inside first, I scaled my way up to the room.

And he was nowhere in sight. Stupid kid forgot he had a partner in this mission, eh? I checked around the room and just outside the door, but finding no Jeffrey, simply settled down for the time being.

A couple minutes later, I heard frantic footsteps coming towards the room. I moved to the wall by the door just before the perpetrator entered—which, of course, turned out to be my young apprentice. He got chewed out sufficiently, and in turn disclosed where he’d been. The kid was simply off looking for his target and came hurrying back after he didn’t find her. Mighty anticlimactic, I know.

I chewed him out some more and led the way out of the room to look for that apparently very sneaky old woman.

We eventually discovered her sleeping in a rocking chair in what was probably her bedroom. I pulled Jeff aside, gave him orders, and entered the room. I put my hand on the woman’s shoulder and shook her gently. She looked up at me. “Jenny!” she said, “Oh, it’s great to see your face again.”

Senility is so horribly easy to take advantage of. “Yes, it’s me. How you been doin’?”

The woman laughed, “Oh, I been better. My joints have been hurting more lately, but I’m alright enough.”

“Well, that’s good to hear, 'cept about your pains. You should go see the doctor again; maybe get some medicine. I brought some aspirin if you want it, but I probably shouldn't leave it down there with the kids too long. They been achin’ to see you, by the way.”

"Oh, the family's here? Well, why didn't you say so? Let’s go see ‘em. It's been too long since I seen my grandkids."

I helped the old lady out of her chair and along the hallway. Jeff snuck along behind us, waiting for his queue. You know, the good thing about mansions is that they have lots of long staircases between the floors. It’s just so easy to take an accidental tumble down any one of them.

Jeff and I managed to get back outside soon after the staff heard the scream and found her. By the time any of them would have thought to call 9-1-1, we were leaving the premises and on our way.

For all the idiotic moments, the hit was pulled off relatively flawlessly. Maybe there’s a chance for the boy after a few more of his missions. Quite a few more.

As any long-time reader would know, I go home on Fridays to the dark, dark land of Lack of Internet. This semester will be no different--I'm going home.

But alas, the land is no longer terrifying and filled with creatures unknown even to the great Ceiling Cat. No, it has now become brighter than ever--perhaps even more so than the time here. Why? Because my parents (best parents in the world, IMHO) were awesome enough to get their daughter a laptop over the summer.

I had been mentioning for a while my wish for one: mostly just to work on stories while in the library or outside when the ideas may come (as I'm not writing a freakin' novella in hand before transcribing it to the computer). I only asked for something basic, and that's what they got me: the cheapest thing they could find that wasn't crap quality. Relatively very little memory (not quite sure how much, but almost unheard of these days), but connection to the internet and Word.

So now I'm in the library with the only computer I currently have on campus. The only problem is that it freezes Firefox whenever I try to get into the one website required for ALL my classes, but it's not fatal--there are computer labs scattered around (UPDATE: I also just tried it in Internet Explorer, and it works there, too).

Nevertheless, even though the world of Home is now good and friendly, there won't be a post until Sunday--and that will be an I'd Hit It. Never fear, though, for there is something wonderful scheduled for next week, after just about nothing this week (17 hours of 6 classes hits differently than 16 of 4).

Sometimes, you pull off a hit perfectly. It’s usually a pretty simple formula: go in, make the kill, then leave. Sometimes (or, rather, often), it may take a bit more. Go in, gain the target’s trust, set up anything that you need to, then off the person after a week or two and leave. Not the most complicated of jobs, save for the occasional detail needed for strategy. Even so, the hit doesn’t always go the way you want.

A couple days after Jeff’s disaster of a first mission, I got a call from a new client—some guy who wanted his brother done. I never got a reason why for this one. I give my clients the option of telling me since it helps me out, but it’s by no means necessary.

Anyways, I showed up for the hit, and the target was sitting in his kitchen with his head on the table, seemingly asleep. I tiptoed behind him and pulled my small knife out of its holster. Getting within arm’s reach, I reached around his neck, preparing to slice. But then I noticed something warm and sticky on my fingers. It didn’t take long to figure out that it was the man’s blood.

Someone already killed him. Quickly, I looked around to see if that someone was still in the room, and found nothing. Thankfully, the perpetrator was already gone and I didn’t need to worry about them potentially seeing me as a threat.

I called my client when I got back, and told him that someone else got there before me, but his brother is nevertheless dead. Fortunately, this happened to be a very caring guy. He told me that it doesn’t really matter, so long as the job is done, and then proceeded with payment, despite the fact that I didn’t technically do it. Who am I to refuse such kindness.

You may think that it probably means trouble if you go to kill some guy and he’s already dead, but it’s actually not that uncommon (rare, certainly, but it happens). If someone wants him dead, there’s always a chance that he’s just a total dick. That’s not to say that everyone who knows a person like that would come to my sort to help break up the relationship, bu there’s certainly a chance for two acquaintances to do so.

Until proven otherwise, that’s what happened last night

With moving into the dorm (which I'll officially do tomorrow, though most of my stuff went over yesterday), and probably going with The Sister(TM) to drop off my bridesmaid dress for altering later today, 'tis not the time for an extensive post.

Let's make it simple today. AC/DC.



What the heck, they're a great band. Encore.

New I'd Hit It on Tuesday. Just so you know, it's being told in real time, so anytime I go 2-3 weeks without a chapter is because nothing's happening in the story (or, rather, Regina doesn't have anything to say)--not because I'm lazy.

...except my version would have more ninjas, pirates, and/or general awesomeness.

In two days, I'll be moving into my dorm room for this next year... actually at the same time as everyone else, for once. I was intending to post this that day, or perhaps Friday, but just didn't feel like forcing myself to wait. During the summer, whilst "flipping" through the absolutely genius invention of Hulu, I discovered Dorm Life.

...And I found it pretty hilarious. There's no way to be certain, but I'm sure that kind of stuff went on in my hall last semester; I was just sort of an Abigail... minus the dress, bible, and running away; plus occasionally saying something, WoW, and just not going to stuff to run away from.

Well, that's not true. I went to the Heath Ledger Movie Night... I like his acting.

Anyways, that's just a funny little show to get you through the days before classes actually start next week. It's in a similar vein as The Office and, perhaps, Arrested Development, so if either of those hold any appeal, you'll enjoy it. If not, here's some Genesis for you. If you don't enjoy either, tough luck.

Hazel here, so hippies, commies, and yankees beware this time.

I watched Gangs of New York from the beginning yesterday, and it got me curious about the New York City Draft Riots (especially seeing as the movie itself is terribly inaccurate... still a good story, though). Thus, I turned to the glorious and incredibly accurate internet to find out more.

The draft riots took place in 1863, predominantly in response to the union drafting men into military service for the Civil War. The mob consisted mostly of Irish and German immigrants, who were rather low in society at the time. Naturally, there were other contributing factors. There was the option of paying a $300 fee to get out of service, but that was a helluva lot, which made the immigrants feel that they were being forced to go fight in a "rich man's war." There is also, of course, the fact that there was a growing number of freed blacks, who threatened the job security of the immigrants. Learning about all this made me think about a few topics. Primarily: drafting, social class, and the Civil War in general.

Drafting

I think everyone should know by now what drafting is: basically, forced military service. As somewhat of an extremely strong libertarian (small-l, of course), I pretty much believe that forcing anyone to do anything is completely wrong (unless, of course, said person in question committed a crime... er... a bad crime. The kind that hurts people, more or less.). Drafting is forcing people to leave their friends and family to go put their lives on the line for a cause that they may or may not agree with.

There is, of course, the viewpoint that men--at the very least--should have an obligation of some sort to defend their country when it is in danger of invasion, falling apart, or whatever cause the politicians come up with (up with which the politicians come? Alright, I give up). Now, I do feel that people should have a certain amount of pride in their country, but I draw the line at trying to make them do so. Plus, there's always the fact that not everyone is cut out for military work. Granted, more soldiers is always better than less, but forced recruitment is probably only necessary in dire situations (I'm thinking Helms Deep, or maybe tribal warfare). If there are only a few citizens able to fight, then your chances of winning are very slim unless you use all of them, but when there's an entire country-full to choose from, then an all-volunteer army is really far better overall.

It's better because people don't tend to like being forced to do something--especially by some far-away outside force. When they're drafted, they resent having to leave their families for something that--to them--may seem completely pointless. Resentment towards the side for which they're supposedly fighting can potentially make them far worse soldiers than a volunteer would be.

Social Class

This is just a quick little observation that I've made from reading about these riots. In the New York Draft Riots, members of the mob assaulted black people or symbols of the rising status of blacks in the society. Their primary concern was about being forcibly sent off to war, so why take their anger out on those of lower status than themselves?

As I said before, the number of free blacks was threatening their job security. Immigrants--the Irish in particular--were in the lower caste, working as maids and the like--just work that's generally looked down upon. Then the slaves from the south were emancipated and were moving up into their areas. They were probably willing to work for less, seeing as they were used to working for nothing, and they were exempt from the draft due to the fact that they were not citizens until 1868.

I'm just seeing a bit of a parallel between that and more recent times. After all that, blacks took up those lines of work more than anyone, but now illegal immigrants seem to have taken over because--due to their non-citizenship status--they can be paid far less for the same work that the black people used to do (or... according to my mom they did. I don't think I was born yet). I just found that interesting--take from it what you will.

The Civil War--In General

This tends to be a bit of a sensitive topic--especially here in the south--but here goes.

Look, dude, the south was not fighting for slavery. The war began over the issue of slavery, but it was not clear-cut "we want to keep slaves" vs. "we love black people!". Naw, the south wanted the option of getting rid of slavery some way besides immediate abolition. They wanted state sovereignty as opposed to federal control... and apparently the federal government didn't want that. Therefore, they seceded... but the federal government surely didn't want that, and thus the Civil War began.

Ah... then the emancipation proclamation came, and while it's near impossible to tell without extra interpretation what it's really saying (you think run-on sentences are bad now? Sheesh!), the war was then officially "about" slavery. Reading through the interpretation, though, it seems to have been more of a political move than anything. It only freed slaves in the states that were still rebelling against the union by the time it was actually put in place, along with allowing them to sign up for military service (and the union needed soldiers at that point, hence the draft a few months later (yes, I know, it was intended to just get more volunteers) that ended up spurring this post). I'm just saying, history is not always the exact way the victors have written it.

I think I'll go watch some Firefly or Serenity now. Feeling a bit browncoat-ish.

So said one of the NJ friends when I first typed about it in the WoW party chat.

This weekend (since everyone totally cares!), I took a Tang Soo Do belt test for the rank of 1st gup... which is very, very close to blue belt (which is basically our black belt). I was super, super nervous, especially seeing as I hadn't really tested since January. Believe it or not, that is a huge contributing factor to the exact amount of the feeling. See, the entire 6-7 months are spent working towards this one little thing, and you just really feel the pressure to have visibly improved in that time.

According to my rather biased parents and my sister who's potentially biased the opposite way, however, I did show this improvement. So hopes are high. Ah... but there's always a problem to arise in these, and this test decided to make that breaking.

I haven't broken anything since my first Tang Soo Do test two years ago. That was a step-side kick on a single board. This was any two-station break with four or more boards (meaning: two different techniques, with either two on both or three on one). I pretty much completely failed on that. The first technique--a hammer-fist--I just probably am not strong enough for that, but the second... I know I could have broken them both. But I didn't. My stupid brain got in the way and told me to not try to go through (brains do that. It's the same thing that makes you overcompensate for recoil when shooting and the like. Just needs to be trained out of you.). So I got to do a different break with one board each, which I eventually kind of got... at least there was mad-crazy determination there.

So that was a fun part of my weekend, and I plan to spend all day tomorrow doing absolutely nothing so my muscles can heal. Therefore, I'll probably post something interesting. Until then, here's one of those songs which I feel really awkward singing along with (along with which I feel really awkward singing? Ugh... grammar!), but just can't help it. At least it's not I Kissed a Girl.

Today, I took my new protégé, a 19 year-old kid by the name of Jeffrey Sherman, on his first mission. Let me tell you, Vincent vastly understated the amount of help this kid needed. He knew nothing! Well, he had been told what the end result of these jobs is supposed to be, but there wasn't an idea in his head as to how to get there.

The day after my unfortunate meeting with Vincent, there was a knock on my office door. I opened it to find Jeff standing there, somehow unintentionally giving the puppy-dog face. He smiled shyly and said, "Hey, uhh... Vincent sent me here? You're Regina, right?"

That alone did not bode well for an easy job. There's not much room in this career for that much uncertainty. Nevertheless, I let the kid in. We got to talking some, and I got his name, history, what he knew about the organization, and a few other things that aren't too smart to tell a stranger-especially one who you know has killed before. The only thing of any particular importance to me was that he'd entered the organization knowing that he would be trained as an assassin.

After a while, we got down to business and he explained the first mission assigned to him. It was one of the simplest kinds around. The target was the kind of guy so hated that no one would look twice if he were shot, stabbed, decapitated, and trailed behind an 18-wheeler through five states. But all that was required of Jeff is that he makes the guy dead. Piece of cake, right?

Yes, for any competent human being, it's fairly easy. However, my new friend apparently managed to keep his balance and avoid falling into this category. Honestly, I have no idea how he managed to screw it up so badly. One minute, he was telling me he understood the necessary procedures I was explaining, and the next he managed to get surrounded by eight of the man's armed body guards. Thankfully, I was already on a nearby roof waiting with a good sniper rifle in case things started to go downhill.

I took out the guards with somewhere around 13 shots (no one really counts in these situations) and ran down from the roof to reach the scene. I arrived to find Jeff standing amongst the guards with the deer-in-the-headlights expression. Once he was snapped out of it, I took him to finally get his job done only to hear that he, "just can't right now." I get that the kid was freaked out, but geez! I ended up finally finishing the job myself.

We went back my office and, naturally, I chewed him out to no end. Once he left, the phone rang. On the other end was none other than-you guessed it-Vincent.

He sounded mighty smug, "Hello there, Gina. How goes it with your new apprentice?"

As if he doesn't know. "Oh, as if you don't know."

Of course, this got a chuckle from my kind old instructor, "I know he's a little rough around the edges, but that's why we sent him to you for help."

"A little rough, huh? He's an emotional wreck; had trouble even finishing off this major criminal. Honestly, Vincent, what the hell were you thinking even considering this guy for training?"

I could sense him growing serious on the other end. "Not everyone is as naturally inclined for this job as you are, you know. But we're a business, and as with every business, we need a number of employees. When we can't find perfect candidates such as yourself, we take what we can and work with it. Jeffrey found us when he ran away from home. He first came to us as a client, but asked to join up after the job was finished. So we taught him what we could, but could always tell he needed a bit of extra help." His voice grew ominous, "You still up for it?"

I laughed, "Do I have a choice? Yes, I'll work on fixing Jeff. No promises on the end result, but I'll do all I can."

"Well, that's all I ask. I trust that you'll make him an efficient killer. Good bye, Regina." He hung up before I could begin to react, but hey, that's what he does.