I leave for my new post today and am reluctantly taking my wife with me. I asked for a divorce, however the grand commander admitted he has not made accommodations for unwanted women yet and I must wait until these are available.
—The journal of Isaac Ryland
There was a small pool of blood at the end of the driveway. It wasn’t as much as Grant would have liked to see but was enough to convince him of the owner’s death. Grant was happy they had taken the body with them; it meant less cleanup for him. It was morning; the red spot looked brown in the golden rays of the sun. He heard thunder in the distance and was satisfied rain would wash away the stain before anyone important showed up.
Grant went back inside and patrolled the rest of his home. The west wing was in perfect shape. Almost as if his visitors had never arrived. The east wing was a different story. Grant opened the door to the hallway and the scent of death was fresh in the air. He walked toward Hansen’s body and bent down as he approached. Two gunshot wounds, one to the back of the head and another to the chest. Whoever that woman was, she had some military-level training. Grant didn’t remember hearing a weapon go off.
He left the body for now and went back into Roderick’s former room. Grant lifted up the computer and reviewed the security tapes from the east side. The woman didn’t show up on any of them. Whenever she walked into view the camera went black. Grant followed the roaming blackouts. They continued every time she would have stepped into frame. Her face was never captured. If there was a silver lining, it was that Grant’s beating wasn’t recorded either. The woman had an electronic scrambler, and he knew none of the cameras would have recorded any scene she was present for.
Grant had assumed Mia’s plan was to draw him out of the room and have one of her untrained friends rescue Roderick. He didn’t think another person would have been able to enter the premises. Grant followed the trail of blackouts in reverse and saw that the woman had entered through an abandoned room at the end of the hall. Grant stood up and went to investigate.
This wing of the house was impenetrable. He couldn’t understand how she would have gained access. A cool breeze came through the open window. Grant walked over and examined the scene. A circle, big enough for someone to crawl through, was cut out of the inch-thick glass. He stuck his head outside and saw the removed glass leaning against the house.
Only three types of blades could cut through the windows on Grant’s home: one made of diamonds, which would be impossible to find; one that had been heated up to over a thousand degrees Celsius, which the women couldn’t have done without a portable scientific-grade oven, which also didn’t exist; and a blade Grant had created himself, which he had sold to the American government a long time ago. He wasn’t sure what connection the mystery women had, but if she owned a knife like that she was no layman. For the second time one of Grant’s own inventions had been used against him. He made a fist and punched what was left of the window. His knuckles exploded in pain.
“Sir?” Dr. Schaffer asked.
Grant turned to see the man standing in the door frame.
“Good morning,” Grant said.
“What happened here?” Dr. Schaffer asked.
“Your patient is gone,” Grant said. “Your services are no longer required.”
The doctor stepped into the room. “You look like you could use a checkup,” he said.
He grabbed Grant’s hand and forced his fingers outward.
“Have you looked in a mirror?” Dr. Schaffer asked. “Your face is all bruised and your lip is bleeding.”
“It’s dried blood now,” Grant said.
He took his hand back and started to work his fingers back to life.
“Do you have any need for a cadaver?” Grant asked.
“Anything to help further medical advances is appreciated,” the doctor said.
“Take Hansen from the hallway,” Grant said. “He’s all yours.”
Grant headed out of the east wing. He needed to shower and rest. Last night had not gone as planned, but if there was a positive outcome it was that Amelia Morrissey was finally dead.