Seven Rules

It’s all about rules. If you follow a few simple rules, you won’t have a problem.

The first rule is essential. Don’t ever make it personal. As soon as you know anything more about a subject than who it is or where they’ll be at a given time, you have the potential for it to become personal. And when you take the type of jobs I do, it’s even more important that it never becomes personal. Don’t get me wrong. Know your subject’s habits, what they’re wearing, who they hang with, whatever you need to know to get the job done. Do your research, but you don’t need names, personalities, things like that, and you definitely don’t need to meet your subject. Ever.

You see, I only take “special” jobs—the ones nobody else will touch. The people handing out the contracts used to avoid certain types of subjects—cops, priests, women, and children—like the plague. These days, there are plenty of contracts for all of them, but there aren’t that many in the business that’ll take the jobs. And those who take one such job usually don’t take a second. I don’t have these problems of conscience because I follow the rules. Don’t ever make it personal.

The second rule is a little more problematic. Never have personal contact with the people handing out the contracts. I have personally relied on a series of drops and coded newspaper ads to get the jobs. I’m well known amongst the people doing the hiring, but only by reputation. Nobody knows who I am or where I am. Unless there is a strict time requirement, nobody even knows when I’ll fulfill the contract. But they know the job will get done, and I know I’ll get paid—nothing like paranoia to ensure these guys make their deposits on time. If they don’t know who you are, they never know if they’re next or not.

Third, no drugs, no booze, no addictions of any sort. This is just common sense. As soon as you rely on anything but yourself and your equipment, you’re setting yourself up for a fall.

Rule number four is extremely important. Know and trust your equipment. I use a 7.62mm bolt-action Steyr SSG 69 with a Kahles ZF69 telescopic sight. It’s light, accurate at maximum range, and dependable. I’ve used the same rifle for almost 20 years, and I haven’t seen a machine I like better. And I never use a silencer. Silencers just screw up your distance and accuracy, and the whole point is a clean kill in one shot without collateral damage.

We’ve all seen movies where the contractor uses poison, knives, a pistol, or some other lame-brained method of taking care of business. Why jeopardize your own safety when planning and care can allow you to get the job done from a distance? Learn to shoot, get a good rifle, and practice often.

Rule 5: As in real estate, one of the cardinal rules in my business is location, location, location. Tailor the timing and placement of the job to the purpose of the job. If the job is punitive, it’s just between you and the subject, so you can do it in a non-public place, thereby increasing your own safety. If the job is supposed to send a message, it may need to take place at a specific event or even in public. You have to know the subject well enough to know where they’ll be and when, and you have to find a suitable nest for yourself—someplace that gives you ample cover and a good escape route.

For example, my job today is a combination—it’s punitive, but it’s also meant to send a message. Some guy is trying to make a name for himself in another guy’s business. I don’t know what business, and I don’t care. He’s been warned on several occasions to lay off, but he just keeps on. So, I’ve been contracted to send him the most powerful possible warning. He’s a valuable guy, so they don’t want him dead. They just want to make it clear to him the penalty for screwing up. They want to own him in ways he has never considered. As a result, I have been contracted to deliver this message. My nest is up high, out of the natural line of sight, in a copse of trees about 600 yards from a playground. It’s near some railroad tracks, which gives me a good escape route, but, except for the playground and the school beyond it, there aren’t any buildings nearby and no traffic. My car is a common model in a common color parked in a hospital parking lot about a mile away, and I can stash my rifle en route for later pickup.

Rule six: cleanliness is next to godliness. Keep your nest clean. Stake it out to make sure it’s safe, but don’t overuse it. You don’t want people to remember someone hanging around it. I wear a one-piece coverall with no pockets to ensure I don’t leave anything behind. I wear Sperry Topsiders because they don’t leave tread marks that could potentially be matched back to me. My rifle holds five rounds, I carry no extras, and I always leave with the same number of shells as I arrived with. Also, and this goes back to the rule about addictions—no smoking, eating, or drinking at the nest. I don’t spit, if my nose runs, I wipe it on my sleeve, and I pee before I leave home. If the cops find the nest, you want them to find nothing in it.

Finally, get the job done in one shot. No muss, no fuss. My job isn’t to hurt or torture the subject. They’ve got specialists for that. My job is to neutralize the subject efficiently.

For example, as soon as I hear the recess bell at the school, I shoulder my weapon and watch the door through the scope. A stream of kids comes running out, little groups of them running to the jungle gym, or the swings, or the teeter-totter. I’m watching for a tall, skinny boy with red hair. He’ll be wearing jeans and a red shirt with “Enjoy Coca-Cola” on it. He usually hangs out with a black kid and a nerdy white girl. They always sit under an elm tree and trade Pokémon cards. I see the subject and his friends, and true to form, they head for the tree. As soon as I get a clean shot, I squeeze the trigger. A second later, the subject falls. A second later, the kids in the playground hear my shot at about the same time the subject’s friends notice him lying on the ground behind them, dead. Elapsed time since I shouldered my weapon: 87 seconds.

By the time anyone looks in the direction of my nest, I’m gone. By the time I get to my car, I’ve been paid. Follow the rules, don’t get caught. And above all, don’t grow a conscience. Maybe that’s rule eight. Don’t grow a conscience.

© 2026 Brian G Parker