Jessica Davis

The Mercenary

“They wanted him to be a mercenary.”

I looked up from the window at this with a frown as soon as Joc had finished her sentence. It had really come out of the blue this time; normally, we were in a discussion when she told me revelatory things about my family. This time, however, we were just quietly driving around in the car towards the drugstore for some pills.

“What?” I had been so attentive to watching things pass by on my side of the car that I only heard the last part of the sentence. “Who’s a mercenary?”
“…No one is.” Joc rolled her eyes. “Jess, stop looking out the window.”
“What? What did I do now?”
“We passed the turn for the drugstore.” Joc turned the wheel. “You were supposed to tell me when the turn was coming up.”
“Oh, I…..” I gave a sheepish grin. “Oops?”
“Whatever, Jess.” Joc just shook her head. “You just don’t pay attention. I’ll just turn from the intersection.”

It was a relatively dark night, dark and cold. It was in the middle of a big freeze the county was having; everywhere there were record lows and wind chills well below zero. I had been staring at the snow banks that whizzed by, but for what reason, I didn’t know.

“So, uh….” I made an attempt to change the subject. “Anyways…..who was a mercenary?”
“What?”
“You said ‘they wanted him to be a mercenary.’” I looked at her. “Who did they want as a mercenary? And who was they?”
“Why does it matter?”
“Well…..” I scratched my head. “You were talking to me about it, right? It kind of piqued my interest.”
“No….” At this, Joc looked a little nervous. “No, I just was musing aloud.”
“Well, I missed it.”
“Then that’s too bad.” Joc stopped at a traffic light. “Its not my fault if you don’t pay attention.”
“Come on, Joc, it was just this once.” I knew that was a momentous lie, but I didn’t care. “Cut me a little slack. It’s not like I’m pulling teeth. Do I know this person?”
“I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Do I know this person?”
“Yes.” Joc’s voice was starting to get annoyed. “Yes, you know this person.”

Now I was interested. Not only was someone asked to be a mercenary, it was someone I knew. I gave a shudder of excitement.

It was not that I approved of killing people in general. I was not big on war, and I certainly wasn’t thinking of getting a job in that kind of business to begin with. I only had two reasons for wanting to know. One, my father had been a Marine, working on tanks for the military, so I knew he had a few friends in the business.

Two, there was, at least in my mind, a strange and twisted exoticism in the whole idea of just methodically, quietly, and mercilessly planning how you were going to kill people and get away with it. In between that, there would be the merciless hounding of the prey until they could go in for the clean and final kill. What mercenaries got from it - the thrill, the money, the glory - the motives were always mysterious.

The planning part really intrigued me, because – unlike most professions – planning as a mercenary could get you and your family killed if you made the wrong move. It was like espionage, which also intrigued me, only with more apparent blood and guts.

“Come on,” I teased. “What’s the problem with asking who, especially since I know this person?”
“Jess, I seriously don’t want to talk about it.”
“Well, you said something, and when I asked, you said you didn’t want to call attention to yourself.”
“Dammit.” Joc gave a growl. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Come on, I have to know.”
“No you don’t!” By this time, Joc was in the drug store parking lot, and had parked. “Jess, you are just so annoying with that! You don’t have to know everything.”
“Yes I do.”
“No you don’t!”
“Well, why won’t you tell me?”
“Because!” Joc turned to me. “It’s none of your business.”
“Why?”
“…Don’t even start that.”
“Why?”
“I said not to!”
“Why?”
“Because,” by this time, Joc was getting visibly angry. “If you don’t stop it, I’ll smack you.”
“Why?”
“I mean it!” Joc’s hand was up. “You know I mean what I say.”
“Well….what is the problem?!” By this time, I was annoyed with Joc’s lack of cooperation. “Why is it so terrible that I not know who was going to be a mercenary?”
“Because, Jess.” Joc smacked the wheel. “You wouldn’t understand?”
“Well,” I rolled my eyes. “You know, I’d rather know than be the last person on earth to know what’s going on.”
“That’s because you never pay attention.”
“I do too pay attention!” My voice was getting louder. “I DO PAY ATTENTION!”
“NO YOU DON’T!”
“Yes I DO!” My ears started to ring from the yelling. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be asking you about who the mercenary was!!”
“Its not important!”
“Yes it IS!”
“FINE!”

Joc gave me a crazed look before taking several deep breaths. I, too, took several breaths to calm myself down. I could tell my face was red, even though I couldn’t see it, because my ears felt extremely hot.

“….You can’t make a big deal about it, ok?” Joc spoke after a moment with a low voice. “Because I don’t want you asking way too many questions, because….well, you’ll understand.”
“Ok.”
“….The government asked Dad to be a mercenary.” I stared at her as she spoke. “Sometime when we were born, they wanted him to. They offered him a lot of money to do it. They considered him one of their best killers, and he had been ready to accept the position…but…..he had to say no. Mom wouldn’t let him do it because of his kids. Us.” Joc gave me a look. “Are you happy now?”

I looked down at the floor, letting this truth sink in. I realized why I was left out; she thought that I would overreact, be shocked and ask lots of questions. Most people would not think of loved ones as being heartless, professional killers. On top of it, my father would have done it.

Then, something occurred to me. I look up and gave Joc what was probably the most confused look I could involuntarily muster.

“….Ok….”

It wasn’t some harrowing revelation to me. I got no real shock or surprise from it. He had been a good Marine; it just made logical sense they they’d want him to sniper people. I was almost disappointed.

“…Now…..your point from keeping that from me was….?”

© Jessica Davis