I'm not 'appy, but I ain't gonna let these blokes know that. They're clever. They are roofless…they ain't scared of killin' anyone if that is the job they are 'ired to do, but they just ain't murderers. Believe me, I've bin in the 'nick wiv murderin' types, an' these blokes just don't fink the same way.

People wot murder don't value life. I ain't sayin' these blokes would 'elp an' old lady across the road, but they don't kill wivout good reason. I know that partly coz when I showed 'em that I 'ad my gun wiv me, one of 'em muttered summat about not needin' it.

I've bin wiv 'em for about a week now, an' I've bin watchin' 'em closely. Listenin' to the sorts of fings they talk about when they're relaxin, and they ain't into indiscriminate murder, nor getting rich.

It's actually an education. Coz, I fink they are politically motivated. Wot I meantersay is that this fing they do, takin' on jobs from people 'oo wants stuff to 'appen and refusin' to be paid in money is clever. They put people in their debt, see? The more people they 'elp as it were, the more people they 'ave in their debt. They can take their time to collect. 'Specially if they are picky about 'oo they take jobs for. I can't give names, coz I aint 'ad my trust-test yet, but I do know they 'ave this one pertickler inventor on side now…though this bloke is such an idiot, I don't know what use 'e'll be to 'em when they call, but wotever. They have several politicians now, from five different countries on two continents. That's quite summink innit?

They got some famous actor person a few weeks ago…Gawd knows 'oo that is, but no doubt 'er ladyship could work it out quick enough. She's a sharp one is Milady.

I know they 'ave quite a collection of people they've 'elped, and I can't 'elp but fink they must 'ave paperwork of some sort on 'em….either real paper locked in a safe somewhere, or maybe audio or video evidence to keep each client from refusing to cooperate when their time comes. These blokes definitely know wot they are doin'!

I wonder wot they've found out about me? They know I was International Rescue in my former…employment…but 'ow much of my fallin' out with IR did they get? Do they believe in my…defection? I guess time will tell. They never asked me anyfin more about my gun, never took it from me or asked to see it. One bloke did ask why I 'ad a gun if I 'ad belonged to a rescue organisation. When I reminded 'em that I wasn't wiv that organisation anymore, they shrugged and said no more on it.

It's 'appened.

The bloke wot seems to be the boss…'e told me to call 'im Bob.

I mean…Bob? Really?

Anyways, Bob told me they've decided how to test my loyalty to 'the firm'. They've taken me to this run-down 'ouse in Iceland. Bloomin' cold it is 'ere too! Its started snowin' an' all. Glad I've got a fick coat and furry boots to wear. This 'ouse is kind of like a small manor 'ouse. Sort of place wiv six bedrooms, and a small courtyard off to one side wiv a high wall to block it off from the outside. There's no central 'eating or anyfin' like that. I'd 'ate to live 'ere in the depths of winter. It makes England in winter feel warm and balmy!

Bob 'asn't said wot I gotta do, but I 'as chills runnin' up an' down my spine. I gotta feelin' I ain't gonna like it when I find out. Finkin everyfin' through though, I know these blokes ain't murderers in the normal way. The only fing wot worries me is if they decide to make me tell secrets of IR, or take 'em to the IR base. The boys and Milady know it could come to that…I did warn 'em before I went into this, but if that's wot 'appens, the GDF will step in, these blokes will guess the troof about me and we still won't get to find Master John.

I 'ave to go along wiv it, wotever they ask me to do. It's the only way to find John. They only way to elp 'im.

A door's bin opened, and Bob leads me inside. There are three uvver blokes be'ind us, pro'bly to watch and be witnesses to..wotever it is they get me to do. When I look round, the room is painted white and bare, a large fat mattress laid out on the floor, with a figure lyin' 'unched on it wrapped in a large fleecy blanket.

Bob taps me on the shoulder, and I turn to face 'im.

"You ready to prove yourself?"

I nod, my 'eart startin to do palpitations.

"There is your test, Mister Parker. This is someone you know…or once knew well. Kill him. Use this gun."

One of the blokes grabbed the sleeping figure by the shoulder and pulled, turnin' 'im over, and I 'ad to stifle my reaction to stop myself from swearin'.

It was John.

'Is 'air was wet wiv sweat, like 'is face and most of the rest of 'im. 'E was shakin' badly, an' the scream of pain 'e let out went right to me 'eart. 'Is face was greyer than the sky, the eyes bloodshot.

I stare Bob down.

"Don't need your gun. I've got me own. An' this is John Tracy. I owe 'im big time!"

Bob's face twitched.

"I'm sure you do. We'll save your gun for another time. May find it coming in handy later. Humour me Mister Parker. There is a bullet in this one with your young friend's name on it."

I take the gun. It is a real gun, no doubt of that, but lighter than I would have expected. I crouch down so that I am as close to John as I can get. Someone be'ind me shines a torch on us, an' it puts Master John's face in an ominous shadow. Makes 'im look even closer to death.

"Well go on then. What are you waiting for?" It was Bob's voice, this time sounding slightly impatient.

I really 'ope I am right about this. I am certain I ain't got these blokes wrong. I'm sure I'm right…I fink. I 'ave one of Brains' new edible transmitters concealed in me left 'and. The torch is turned off, an' I take John's right hand in my left as I come in closer still and whisper in John's ear.

"Sorry Master John. Your time 'as come!"

I aim the gun at John's face and close my eyes. I really don't wanna see the mess I will make if I am wrong about this. I pull the trigger.