Xander Harris had been driven away for (supposedly) being too weak and incapable to fight. They'd just wanted to keep him safe, and never mind that he'd proven himself time after time.
Nobody would drive Eliot Spencer away because they thought he couldn't fight. He was a retrieval specialist; his job was fighting people, people who weren't pushovers by any stretch of the imagination, and he was good at it. He wasn't an assassin. He never took jobs to kill people. But a lot of the time, he killed people anyway. It was the only way to make absolutely certain that there weren't any enemies at his back, and a lot of the time it was easier than trying to keep them alive after beating them into submission. By now, he'd killed a lot of people, and he didn't really care. Alive, dead, the only difference was that people who were dead couldn't come after him for revenge. But the only hard and fast rule he had was to kill anybody who tracked him down to take their revenge. They'd shown that they were actively coming after him; he couldn’t afford that kind of risk. He had enough threats that he didn't know were coming after him.
Maybe the strength Xander had lacked was the strength Eliot possessed in spades: the strength to kill and never look back.
No comments:
Post a Comment