If you wanted someone killed right, you had to do it yourself.
He should stitch that on a pillow. Damien Freihof smiled as he watched guests enter the church.
He knew from “Mr. Fawkes,” his mole inside Omega Sector, that the church had already been swept for explosives and there were guards posted at all the doors. No one without an invitation, and a facial scan to prove their ID, was getting into the building.
It was at least nice to see the law enforcement agency was taking him seriously.
But Damien wasn’t crashing the wedding today. Even though it was Brandon Han and Andrea Gordon’s, both of whom Damien knew personally. They’d all come so close to dying with each other last year—didn’t that bring people closer together?
Damien wasn’t at all surprised they were getting married today, just a year later, after the way Brandon had fought to free Andrea. It had been remarkable, really; the other man’s passion—utter determination—to save her.
He’d saved her that day, but in the end it wouldn’t be enough. Thanks to Mr. Fawkes’s plan, they would all die. Every single member of Omega Sector’s critical response team.
But that was for later. Not today.
Today, Damien was just here to look around. To prove to himself how close he could get without anyone realizing who he was. Snap a few pictures.
Particularly of the woman he planned to kill within the next few weeks.
He’d already picked her out. Knew who would die. He hadn’t yet decided exactly when or how, but he knew it would be with much fanfare and would definitely garner the attention of those working at Omega.
They had to pay—had to pay for what they’d done to him and his precious Natalie.
Damien’s more subtle approach at revenge—convincing others to stalk and kill the people beloved by Omega Sector—hadn’t been enough. Yes, one Omega Sector agent had been killed and another put in a coma, but there should’ve been much more bloodshed by now. Much more grieving.
But Damien had left the killing to others and they had not been able to live up to their commitment. He wouldn’t make that mistake this time. Now he would take matters into his own hands.
But not just yet.
Damien was nothing if not a patient man. It had been a while since he’d last struck and it would be a while before he struck again. Just enough time for the law enforcement agents to wonder if he was still here or if he was gone for good.
He hadn’t gone anywhere.
And soon, while their defenses were down, he would strike again. Strike at the very heart of them.
Everyone might survive the wedding today.
But they wouldn’t survive much longer.
Everyone wore their sidearm to the wedding.
Given
