Pre-shift History

I had a name. It was a name given to me at birth with some ceremony. Thrandr. I gave it up for Jake Adams. It was a good average name for an average kid, who became an average special forces soldier... maybe a good one actually, and then became a decent CIA agent who did what he was told. My agent code became a joking nickname from a friend in the MI-5 who called me Silent Strider one day. I never got that joke till 2011.

I am not a big guy, small by most standards. I stand no more than 5-foot 9.5 inches tall and weigh about 175lbs of hard whipcord muscle. I am small and fast, but average enough in height to not stand out. My training helped me develop better dexterity and stamina than the average Joe and trained my mind and my eye. The CIA seemed to like my quirks: steady hands and nerves, photographic memory, a knack for picking things up about people (reading auras, but you never tell your officer THAT!), a natural ability to grow accustomed to a culture and surroundings in order to blend in and be forgotten, and this talent I seem to have for understanding anything I read even if I don't know the language. I am average otherwise... brown-black boring hair I wear a bit messily like those hot guys that still look good with messy hair. I can dream, right? My eyes are grey-green-brown-blue... crayola in the blender... I guess that means they are hazel.

Combat-wise, I specialize in melee weapons. Anything can be a weapon in my hands... especially if it is a stick or a blade. I love blades. Everyone these days expects to be killed by a gunman of some sort. You can't move anywhere with a gun on you without being spotted in some way. But a sharpened piece of bamboo is never detected. I am stealthy and more than capable of fighting martially. That is what years of training does to some men.

I do have a code of honor, even if sometimes it does not seem so. Just because my conscience does not interfere with my job, does not mean I am without honor. It just means I can do what needs doing without qualms.

I have a safehouse and a few infrequent contacts, like this underground doc in Chicago who never asks questions. I have lots of blades, like a collector of sorts. Most stay at my safehouse. I don't keep much "stuff", what is the point in my line of work? I need to be able to drop and go at a moment's notice. I might need to be able to totally abandon things if necessary. The safehouse though, is personal and I have taken great care to keep it mine and even outside the CIA radar, or at least I hope.