The small bell above the door chimed, drawing Raiden's focus from the task at hand for just long enough to know he shouldn't be looking. Long enough for him to slide down just a little further in the corner of his booth using the partition to push his hood further forward. News of Johnathon Jameson's death was just breaking as reporters flocked to the scene of his latest pyre where the victim had already been identified.
It had taken them less than twenty-four hours to find this latest corpse, but subtlety was so far out the window now that its reflection was not even a glimmer on the horizon. He had been waiting for this story over a mug of bitter coffee, while double-checking that his virus had scrubbed all of Jameson's software development from any system its coding had ever touched. H
