She looked like a girl. Slim, narrow hipped, her dark blonde hair fanned out above her face. He reached down and closed the eye he could see, and then...he had looked at the bloody stump of her left arm. There wasn't much left, a very clean cut.What had he seen? He had helped to bury them and even said a few words over the grave since no one else seemed willing to do so. But what had he seen? The stump looked like what a butcher might do cutting a leg from a sheep or lamb. Right through the joint. Keep that in mind if you need to task him something. If it's critical you may want to task someone else rather than risk him getting pulled off your project. Let's get to work, boys and girls.Paul followed me to my office. "You requested me for this?" You heard the man. Yeah, I did. So far you've impressed me. I think you're ready. Don't prove me wrong." I'll do my best, ma'am. How was your weekend?" Paul, we're going to be working together. It's Rebecca. My weekend was fine, thank you. Amy. More

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