Athena watched, partly angry and sullen, as her men meticulously packaged the strange dead man in a black corpse bag. Each zip and tug of the fabric felt like a finality that gnawed at her psyche.
She had spoken with the agents and thanked them for their prompt response, but it felt like a waste of time, an exercise in futility.
A waste of life too, she thought, wondering how someone could give up his life for such a useless cause. What was promised to him? Or was it a threat?
It was always between these two things, She mused, having encountered and interrogated her own share of suicide bombers or suicide messengers.
"Doctor Athena…"
The familiar voice pulled her from her dark reverie. She turned to find Mr. Thorne, the old man standing beside her with a grave expression.
