What set them apart was also what made the Dutchman the perfect man for the job, as necessary as the similarities, maybe even more. The Dutchman seemed a spineless dick, who wallowing in his misery. The way his shoulder drooped and how he had drank himself into a stupor illustrated the lack of a will to survive. Matt knew that the will to survive was essential. Without it he would’ve been dead, something he realized every single wakeful night. Matt traced the contours of his face and eyes in the mirror. Discipline and ambition were vital. He’d possessed both all his life, but had only become aware of it the day his life was destroyed. Before that he’d been a sportsman, an athlete. A winner. A surfer…