To dodge a Bullet (UPDATE TWICE A MONTH)

Chapter 3-Don't Judge a Boy by his Cover

Murderer? Murderer!? Let me tell you a little something about murder. It’s fun, it’s easy, and you gonna learn all about it. [pulls out two knives] I’d like you to meet two buddies of mine. We never miss. — Tin Tin, The Crow

For all my Blackthorne boys Zach, Grant, and Mr. Solomon. I wrote this book to tell your side of the story. Well, sort of anyway.

~Jett~

Pros and cons of working as an underground Freelancer:

Pro) You will never get bored on the job (of that I can assure you of). Con: You can very much be captured, tortured, gutted, secluded, decapitated or even be brutally murdered on the job.

Pro) You don’t exist (at least according to the government) so you can’t get expelled from school when you accidentally run your principals car into a ditch. Con) Who the hell would want to go to school when they supposedly don’t exist?

Pro) You get to kick Butt. Con) your Butt can be kicked as well.

* * *

Camera 6 Recording:

Time & date: 3: 35 PM, Friday, May 6th

 Location: Rhode Island, corner of 4705 Cherry hill Road

Jett wasn’t carrying a backpack slung over his shoulders like the other kids walking out of the school parking lot, in fact he didn’t even keep anything that belonged to him in his locker, the only thing Jett wore on himself besides the clothes on his back, was a pair of obsidian shades (which also had a build-in 720p HD camera, & X-ray specs), and a G-SHOCK watch(serving him as a locator, a communicator…and-oh yeah it came in handy when he needed to tell time).

Tucked securely in the secret pocket of his double-sided suede jacket, was a mid-sized “Stinger” 22 Magnum camera gun (lets just say the next picture they’ll be taking of you is in a bloody puddle, behind ‘do not cross’ lines), a wad of mentos’ gum in his forward jean pocket (designed to look like ordinary gum, but was in reality a deadly toxin once chewed, and activated by ones spit), and a phone(it’s a everyday phone, duh, even spies have to look things up on google).

The life of an under-the-radar assassin was unpredictable, so he had to be prepared for almost anything.

A few unappreciative parents gave him an once-over as he strolled by, each one shooting Jett a dirty look of their own, but Jett didn’t cower under their glare.

‘Don’t judge what you don’t know.’ Jett thought with an exaggerated roll of his eyes, as an overprotective dad narrowed his old-aged eyes at him.

A perk of being a spy is trained to see what other people (such as ordinary U.S citizens) don’t see, such as how the fair-haired boy sitting on the bench to his right isn’t reading the book titled The little house on the prairie but is actually ogling over a copy of a Playboy magazine placed in the middle of the book’s spine, giving off the illusion that he is academic, and sensitive. The strawberry blonde behind him was picking the scab on her left knee, not texting like it appeared, at first, she is doing.

Any ordinary person would have noticed the sun shining, the birds singing, and the traffickers growing restless on this beautiful hot mid-summer day, but Jett was anything but ordinary.

 Jett saw much more; but then again he was much more than the average man. He liked how he noted the disguised cameras perched upon one of the tree braches, he was just passing by. In the corner of his eyes he could sense the cameras fixed on him, watching, waiting for some kind of disturbance in the peaceful scenery, so a group of armed men could drop out of the sky, the hum of rappel-a-cord running through pulleys along with them, and shoot the intruder down. He’s seen a camera on every other street corner, but this wasn’t unrequited knowledge to him, so he didn’t belt out profanity when a lenses camera snapped multiple pic’s of him. These new surveillance systems, still unreleased to the public, were compliments of the CIA and the secret service.