EPILOGUE

West hadn't felt excitement like this in a long time. He sometimes forgot how good killing made him feel. There was no power on Earth like the power to take a life. Life, which in all its forms had to struggle for the right to simply exist in the first place, and he could take that right at will.

And from other humans, no less. The most powerful and dangerous creatures on Earth, and at the apex of that apex of predators sat the man who now thought of himself as Franklin West.

He felt a rush of gratitude for Faith Bold. She had given him his purpose. She had given him his identity.

He smiled and inhaled deeply of the cool night air. His target lay asleep in the house in front of him. Like many war veterans, he had sought solace in emptiness. This house was built on five acres on a high desert plateau. The nearest neighbor was seven miles away, and the nearest police station was sixteen miles away. He could take his time.

He cut the phone lines first, just in case. More likely than not, the man here would have a cell phone, but a certain amount of risk made the game more fun.

When West finished preparing, he headed to a side window. He pulled his latest tools from his bag: a massive suction cup with a grip handle and a glass cutter with its own suction cup.

He listened carefully, and when he confirmed that the tv was on in the living room, he went to work, placing the suction cup on the glass and positioning the cutter next to it. He opened the cutter to its widest arc and drew the blade slowly around the glass.

When the cutter completed the circle, he pulled gently on the handle of the suction cup. The circular pane slid loose, and he carefully lowered the heavy glass to the ground, muscles straining with the effort.

He grinned again and carefully pushed himself through the opening.

He found the man sitting on his couch. The man looked up in shock.

"Motherfu—" he began, reaching for the rifle that lay next to the end table.

He never finished the word. West, knowing this man might present a tougher physical threat than he was used to, had come prepared for that as well. He lunged forward and drove the brass knuckles on his right hand hard into the man's jaw. He felt the crunch of breaking bones and snarled with joy as the man collapsed to the ground.

God, it felt good to be able to make noise! When he was finished with Bold, maybe he would move somewhere like this, somewhere he could kill without the threat of discovery forcing stealth and silence.

But he wasn't finished with Bold. Not yet. And this man would be killed for a purpose larger than himself.

Working quickly, West tied the unconscious man's wrists and ankles together behind his back. Then, with an effort, he lifted him and set him against a chair, pressing his chest against the back. He tied the man to the chair, tying the last knot just as the man awoke.

"W—What?" the man said groggily.

"Good evening, Staff Sergeant Decker," he said with a smile. "It's a pleasure to finally meet. Faith has told me so much about you."