Chapter 3Monday, October 13th, 2014
Portland, Oregon
Sunshine broke through the clouds and reflected brightly off the puddles and wet Portland sidewalks as Stefan Roland climbed out of the van. The sunshine felt hopeful. He felt like a prize-fighter coming out of retirement for one last big fight against an impossible opponent.
At seventy-seven years old, Stefan still had the good looks that made him so popular on camera. He wore a dark suit and his signature red tie, a sort of reverse color scheme from the suits that the Inquisition wore. This was a new suit, bought for the occasion. A low-carb, low-sugar diet and a moderate exercise regime kept him fit. His hair had gone to white these days, but remained full at least. He refused to color it, no matter what Roan said about how it woul
