Tried for Love (TSATD)

Chapter 3

May 26th

Gabriel

Gunshots fired.. One press over the trigger so fascinatingly enough for the bullet to escape.. To have a man dead. The loud bangs still echoed in my head. Hours after the mission, and the gunshots, the shouts, the loud footsteps.. It was all still swirling in my mind repeatedly.

Such dread in their eyes.. It was so easy to read.. So satisfying to see. And to think that I once could not kill a man in cold blood now sounded ridiculous. It was what we did. Who we were..

Perhaps it was time to cross off another successful mission off our lists. Another clan dead. And another damn sleepless night.

It's hard to blame guilt for leaving me sleepless because damn me, but I was no longer the kind of man that wasted time on guilt.. Years spent chaining a mission to a mission had taught me to feel satisfaction rather than guilt..

Shooting bullets through my enemies' heads was just a little part that my job contained, seeing the helpless expressions on their faces when they know we had won the game, when they realize that they've fallen and that it's their very end.. And I wished that I could see how they burned in hell after that as well, but I still planned to live a little longer before that day comes.

Usually, after every mission, I would get myself a woman in my bed, to at least not waste my insomnia.. That night however, everything turned out different.. That night, I finished up that rat myself. I shot Void's brains out before he could make a run, and I was accused of ruining the plan.. Of not cooperating with the team.

It wasn't the first time.. The last few missions were a bit off, so I finished them off myself, but apparently that was not for the best. The whole team agreed. Even Paul. Well, it was our first mission with him, but his plan and routine was well organized, I couldn't complain about that..

What I could and did complain about was the fact that they all gave themselves the right to tell me I became unprofessional.. That I was doing lack team work on our missions because I was apparently too stressed out from the meetings and the contracts I signed during the day.. That I needed a damn break.

My arguments didn't concern them. They all agreed unanimously. They gave themselves the right to send me off to some lake house in the middle of nowhere to clear my head.. I suppose from all the numbers and statistics I worked with during the weekdays, and then the gunshots and the shouts I handled that night..

But my head didn't need clearing out. Especially not in Paul's damn wooden house. It was a wooden villa though, no doubt in that, but still out of Paris and in the midway to God knows where.

I would've much rather went to my lake house in California, but they insisted on me staying somewhere close because of the celebration Paul was planning in a few days..

So after around an hour of yelling and arguing with them, they managed to convince me of course by telling me that I was apparently a guy with a difficult personality and that they always knew I couldn't take critics well. I only left to prove them wrong. I was too furious to look at any of them, so perhaps it was for the best for me to leave before I made more mistakes with my team.

And once again Paul proved himself right.. He didn't disappoint when he promised a large lake house, and that's exactly what I found. Rest, he said. You need it. I didn't admit it of course, but subconsciously I knew that he was right. It had been months of nonstop work, and a weekend away from all of it was a good idea.

He was wise, there was no mistake in that. However, I couldn't say the same for his skills with gun. He handled weapons averagely well, but not good enough yet. He was nearly fifty, but he wasn't in the business as long as we were.. Being our age twenty years ago or so, he couldn't exactly follow up with the reflexes and instincts that we needed during a mission.