Who I Wake Up With Doesn’t Define Me

I hate to define people by their sexuality, but equally I hate hiding my own and, in fact, I don’t. To be fair to whatever readership I have, I would like you to know I’m gay.

The thoughts of a gay hitman may seem humourous to some, but all I can say is throw away your stereotypes and misconceptions. Anyone can be a killer. I have seen 13 year olds with AK-47’s and I know of at least one octogenarian who has poisoned her son. Gay, straight, young, old, man, woman or child, death can come at the hand of anyone.

Maybe I Am Like Martin Blank

More Grosse Pointe Blank moments in my life:

There was a great moment when Martin Blank is working out how to introduce himself to his old classmates (“I’m a consultant” usually suffices). He asks his psychiatrist what he should say suggesting, “I killed the president of Paraguay with a fork. How’ve you been?” This kind of cropped up in my life last month.

I wasn’t in Paraguay, but it was a neighbouring country. It’s worth pointing out at this point that I don’t just kill people. There are many other facets to my job. Sometimes I’m a courier, hired to deliver a specific type of message. An employee of one of my clients had, shall we say, overstepped his job spec. I was asked to deliver the message that this was unacceptable.

I skewered his left hand with a fork. As I did it, I remembered that line from Grosse Pointe Blank and I actually laughed. The poor guy saw me laugh as I pushed the extra large, extra sharp fork through his hand and I must have looked seriously maniacal because he was far more scared than I was aiming for. He apologised in English, Spanish and bizarrely, German. It’s quite common down there, I’m told. I almost apologised back. Almost.

Working 9 to 5

I’m not constantly killing people. I don’t work Monday to Friday, 9 to 5, killing on the hour, every hour with a 45 minute lunch break.

Most jobs require lengthy planning and the cogs turn slowly. Particularly in the case of political jobs. These can require up to three months of careful preparation. Often times, I could be days or weeks ion one room, waiting for the ‘go’.

Generally, the number of hits are limited to about 6 or seven a year. Last year I had 11, which was unusual. Admittedly, a single hit could have a number of related casualties. Bodyguards and overprotective relatives can find themselves under the heading of ‘collateral damage’. But they still count as just one hit.

At my level and working for the people I work for, each mark pays extremely well. Realistically, I don’t need anymore that 3 or 4 big jobs a year to maintain my lifestyle. I’ve mentioned before that I do other work – even that work more than pays the bills. I only ever take on extra jobs when my regular clients request it. Truthfully, I think it’s safer I don’t decline these contracts.

Not Like It Is In The Movies

It’s probably not going to come as a huge surprise, but one of my favourite films is Grosse Pointe Blank, the film with John Cusack playing the hitman, Martin Blank. Cusack’s cool, quirky killer is very sexy to watch. It doesn’t parallel my life. It doesn’t even come close.

That said, I did work with a guy once, three years ago, who was very like Dan Aykroyd’s character. This guy was chatty to the point of annoying. I worked alongside him for three weeks and all he wanted to do at the end of each day was hang out. He wanted to form a club and even had a Facebook page for it. I have no problem with Facebook, we use it a lot for work, but this guy actually set up a club.

Last year, I heard that Interpol had caught him. He was killed within a week. It’s understandable – he had a big mouth and had worked with too many people to be trusted to stay quiet.

5 Years ago

I’ll come back to it in further detail at a future point, but by way of introduction, I’d like to tell you how I got into this profession.

It is a calling, I think. A vocation that some people are naturals at it.

I have a degree from a highly respected university. I have held jobs at two multinational companies with turnovers in the billions. Within three years of leaving college I had a mortgage and was well respected in my field. I was published in trade journals and was beginning to lecture. Outwardly, I looked happy and successful. But I was bored and extremely unsatisfied.

Don’t think that I was a monster – I wasn’t thinking “if only I was in a job where I got to kill people”. I was just looking for more of a challenge. And so it was that I came to work for a medium sized, Irish-based company of known questionable legalities and morals.

I went in with my eyes wide open. I was employed as a freelance consultant (there’s that word again) and after a few months of tedious grunt work, while they vetted my intentions, I found myself having drinks with the managing director. Many glasses of whiskey later, we were becoming intimate and his tongue was becoming loose.

So, sleeping with the MD, privy to some very sensitive information, it was inevitable that I would be given the third degree at some point. Being someone of great persuasion, I made it clear that I was ‘one of them’. It may have taken a little more time, but all in all, I found it very simple to get them to trust me.

My work ceased to be tedious, as file upon file of questionable plans and nefarious dealings came to me for, shall we say, logistical advice. I was good. I was very good. The ‘company’s’ success rate increased. Losses, both monetarily and in manpower, decreased. I was golden.

A short time later…I was perhaps with the company for eight months at this point…I got my first taste of field experience. I was there to provide backup, something that I still find hilarious to this day. I’m not much with the bulk. My backup was not required, but I did witness one of the most shocking and exhilarating things in my life. I watched a man die. I watched him have his cheek sliced before he was stabbed in the head. It took some time for him to bleed to death.

I’m sure they were testing me. Testing my resolve and, well, testing to see if I would be sickened by the whole affair. I was not. They sat me down in a room full of ‘heavies’ and quizzed me on what I had witnessed. I thought they were looking for my input, my clinical advice on the situation, so I began by reporting the event and followed up with recommendations of how to do it better in future. My future was secured.

Four weeks later, I performed my first hit. That was five years ago in three weeks time.

A Different Line of Work

I’ve spent the past five years calling myself a ‘consultant’ that, for me, the word has now become synonymous with my profession. I kill people for a living. Well, I do a lot more than that, but the big money, the way I maintain my lifestyle is in the killing.

I’m not giving away my name, nor the names of any of those around me, though they are few in number. I won’t give too much detail about my life. I am naturally secretive and even writing this very anonymous weblog is probably opening up a can of worms which should remain indelibly sealed. I just want an outlet of sorts. I want a place to gather my thoughts as I approach my 35th year on this planet.