The Reaper

Chapter 2

Our walk to the bar was quiet, but it always was. I looked over to see Grace's pinched face, and I knew she was trying to think of a way to say what was on her mind. It always amused me how easy her face was to read, but I knew better than to mention it. Instead, I turned back to look ahead, knowing she'd say it when she was ready.

She remained quiet even after we sat down at the bar and ordered drinks, and it wasn't until we had started on our third one that she cleared her throat, darting her eyes to me from the side.

"Did you finally decide how you wanted to ask your question?" I asked, smirking.

She grunted before looking down at her glass again, her fingers fiddling with the ring on her thumb.

"Was it that obvious?"

"You are already well aware that I can read your facial expressions like a picture book. Come on, Williams. Spit it out!"

She downed the rest of her scotch in one go and slammed the glass back to the bar before turning her whole body toward me.

"Look, I know this was supposed to be a 'don't ask, don't tell' situation, okay? I remember that conversation, but don't you think we've been going at this long enough that I at least deserve to know some of the basics!" she whisper-yelled, her eyes boring into mine.

I chuckled lightly as I turned to face the bar again, slowly nursing my drink as I tried to decide if telling her even a little bit was worth it. A heavy sigh escaped my lips before I chugged the remainder of my drink then signaled the bartender for another. Once my new glass was placed in front of me, I turned back to face her.

Her expression was pleading, but I couldn't tell if it was sincere interest or if the potential of selling me out was hidden under her mask. That was the problem I faced throughout the years, I never knew who I could trust with my secrets.

I rolled my shoulders and straightened my spine before looking directly into her eyes, "Look, you have to understand where I'm coming from. If I were to show you everything, not only would it be unsafe for me, it would be incredibly dangerous for you. If someone found out you had information, you would be a target. A bigger target than you are right now. I'm not sure if that's a risk I'm willing to take."

Her shoulders slumped and a kind of sadness permeated her features as she registered what I said. I hated hurting her like this, but I couldn't live with the possible consequences if anyone were to find out that she knew something. "I understand, Grimme. I just hate the thought of you dealing with this alone."

I got out of my seat and gently embraced her. Her arms wrapped around me tightly as she laid her head on my shoulder. I could feel her body shaking slightly with quiet sobs, and I squeezed her a little tighter. "Come on, doc. We don't cry over nonsense like this! We are scientists! Ex-military and CIA! Now dry those tears," I said, gently pushing her away so I could see her face, "besides, you promised to give me leads on anyone that showed signs of experimentation. We both know there are others nearby! We've seen the signs. Now, we just gotta follow the trail."

She nodded resolutely while standing up and throwing a few bills on the bar. "Come on. Let's see what this old hacker can pull up, huh?"

I giggled and gave her a quick salute before throwing back my drink and leaving the glass on the counter.

We quickly left the bar and made our way back to my apartment as heavy storm clouds started to darken the city around us.

*****

Raindrops pattered against the windows as Grace furiously worked behind the screen of my computer. it always amazed me that the CIA let this woman go. She was a brilliant scientist, and the woman could out do any hacker I had ever seen. She was quick and efficient, and she left almost no trace. It was impressive to watch.

While she worked, I got settled on my couch and began meticulously cleaning and sharpening my blades. Over the centuries, I had amassed quite an impressive collection of blades, but I still kept guns handy, just in case. I've learned over the many years of hunting that I still prefer to use a blade when dealing a death blow. Nothing else came quite as close to the visceral joy that emerged from the feeling of a sharp instrument as it slid through the flesh of a target.

"We've got a hit, Grimme," her voice slid through the silent apartment.

"What did you find?"

She rolled away from the screen as I came up to her and began reading. My eyes darting around as I absorbed the information in front of me.

"Biochemical weapons? Been trading hands within terrorist groups and private companies for years." I scoffed, a scowl creasing my face as I continued reading. "Seems like the CIA and the boys in blue have been tracking them for a while, but there aren't any bodies to show for it." I turned to her and smirked, "What do you say I head out there and give them a hand, huh?"

She laughed while standing up, "I'll ready the med bay for you since you always come back f*cked up."

I dramatically clutched my chest, "Hey now! I'll have you know my injuries are always inferior in comparison to the ones I dish out!"

"Yeah, yeah. Just give me a little warning this time when you show up busted and bleeding, okay?"

We both laughed as she quickly printed off the information I would need before backtracking and clearing the logs. Damn, she's good, I thought.

Once she finished, she helped me load up my bags with various serums and a first aid kit. While she was busy with that, I packed up my weapon bags, taking care to triple check I had everything I would possibly need before heading out.