The Golem’s sat nav told him he had reached his destination. He turned the engine off, took in his surroundings. Worked out logistics, made plans. Studied approaches, possible obstacles. The house was old, dilapidated. Detached. No neighbours to interfere. There was a caravan at the side, in as bad a state as the house. Two cars parked in front of the house.
He scanned once more, searching for other exits. To the back of the house were fields. To the side, fields also. To the front, the secluded road the Golem had parked on. If they wanted to leave, they would have to come past him.
Good.
He opened the glove box, took out a small telephoto lens. Looked through it. Scanned the front of the house for alarms, wires, anything that told of security. He knew the lengths people went to hide such devices, knew what to look for, what the giveaways were. A new wire on an old building, sometimes painted to blend in, the shade always slightly out. The raised outline of sensors on window frames, door catches. A rusted old alarm box mounted on the wall, seemingly not working, concealing a state-of-the-art security system. He had seen it all.
But this house seemed to be exactly what it said it was. He could detect nothing that wasn’t meant to be there.
Another good sign. The omens were becoming auspicious for this job.
He turned the lens on the caravan, just in time to see a woman leave the house and walk towards it. Beside her was a small girl. She was holding her wrist, half dragging her along. The Golem studied the body language of the two. The girl looked like she was being held against her will and had been crying. The woman looked stressed, like she just wanted everything concluded as quickly as possible.
In another life, the Golem would have been upset about the little girl, shared some empathy for her situation. But not any more. Now it was just a job. He had his instructions: take the man and the woman out, any way he wanted. The other man should be brought to the Sloanes. The little girl … use his discretion.
He scanned the borders once more. If they saw him coming, all they could do was run. That would make his job more difficult, but not impossible. They wouldn’t get far. Not with him blocking the entrance to the main road.
A line of trees fringed the road. He could use them for cover as he made his way down there. Good. He got out of the car, locked it. Started to walk, keeping in the shade of the trees, not allowing his own shadow to be cast in the open.
He looked once more at the house. Despite the sunshine, the place carried an air of depression. As if whoever lived here had reached the end.
How true, he thought.
As he walked, he saw movement in one of the ground-floor windows of the house. He stopped, took out the lens once more. A man was sitting at a table, laptop before him.
He would be the first target.
He put the lens away, walked on. Reached the house, rounded the corner.
Then the dogs started to bark.