Duty and soldiering go hand in hand. the same could be said for family. I might have been a little remiss in supporting my loved ones since retiring from the forces.
Diane and I were history. She had made a new life with Simon. Nevertheless, there were others I could help if they needed it. I was ashamed that my niece and nephew were living in such squalor, that Jennifer had fallen so low that my skills for pressuring people were all I could offer them.
John is my brother. If you want speci?cs, he's actually my half brother. My father died and my mother remarried. Then John came along. Maybe it's because we have different fathers that we've turned out like oil and water. I was the war hero, John the stay-at-home ne'er-do-well. Of course, that doesn't mean much in some eyes. Funny how our parents always took his side.
Over his?fth beer, my stepfather had once said to me, "While you've been off gallivanting all over the world, John's been here. John's the one we've had to call for if we needed help. You've never been around. It's all right for you, Joe. You've had everything you ever wanted. What's that boy ever had?"
I hadn't had it in me to argue. I just walked away.
I found John at a bar, swilling down his paycheck alongside a couple of friends. I cornered him by the pool table. Grabbing him by the collar, I pushed him against a wall. His friends knew better than to step in.
"Where the hell's all the money I gave you, John?"
His eyes wouldn't meet mine. "I've got it back home."
"Don't lie to me, John. I've just seen Dad. He told me you've been round begging him for a loan." My jaw was aching from clenching my teeth. "He just gave me a load of grief about how I should help you out. Again."
John shook his head.
"Don't tell me you've gone and blown it?" I said.
Shame made his cheeks burn. "I got an inside tip," he said. "Fiveto-one odds, what could I do?" "Oh, for God's sake-" I turned away from him. John's?st thumped into my shoulder. Turning slowly, I saw my little brother setting himself up. "Don't you dare," I warned him. "I don't care who you are, I'll punch your face in." "Come on, then," he said. "Why don't you do it, huh? Every other tough guy around here wants to."
I almost did. But right then he was just too pathetic to waste my time on. Staring him down, I backed away. Lifting a?nger, I aimed it at his face. "You're not worth it, John. I'm done with you. You got that?"
Pushing my way through the crowd of onlookers, I heard him call out, "I don't need you, Joe. You're done with me, are you? Well, to hell with you! You mean nothin' to me, either. You're not even my real brother. Just some sad bastard that I've been stuck with all my life."
Our eyes met over the shoulders of the drinkers that made a wall between us.
"I'm not your real brother?" I asked. "Fair enough. If that's what you want, John."
The light of anger went out of his eyes and he turned away. I turned away, too. Didn't look back.
They were angry words on both sides.
Despite them, John would always be my little brother.
We didn't get a chance to make amends.
The time had come to put things right again.
As a soldier, I hunted and killed men. That's what soldiers do. But with me the killing was up close and personal. It does something to you when you have to look into the eyes of those you kill. Violence breeds a sickness of the human spirit. Hatred consumes and gives birth to self-loathing. It doesn't matter that the deaths were sanctioned, just, or righteous. It's still death. Fourteen years spent tracking terrorists left me changed forever.
Maybe that's why I turned my back on my brother. If I'd stepped up to the mark then, maybe John wouldn't have run away.
I took my leave of the forces, determined that I'd settle down with Diane, lead a life of normalcy and peace.
I should've known I was pissing in the wind.
In some respects, John made me what I am. I dealt with his debts in the only way I knew how: I backed down his debtors. On the streets, that gave me a certain reputation. It wasn't long before my natural ability pushed my other, gentler attributes aside. Subtly, what began as a foray into private security consultancy changed into clients who demanded more. Occasionally I had to crack skulls and bloody noses. For fourteen years I'd met violence head-on with even more violence, and now it seemed that for all my good intentions, nothing had changed.
In another world I could've ended up as a hit man like those
I'd waged war against, or as muscle for some lowlife gangster. Only because I had morals and-yes-compassion could I?nd any peace at all. Without my sense of decency, I'd be nothing more than a bigger thug amid all the little thugs.
I promised Jennifer I'd?nd my brother.
Nothing was going to stand in my way.