There lay the boy, the Host. He was naked from the waste down, and covered in filth. His throat had been messily hacked into by what appeared to be a ...ery dull butcher’s knife. One could surmise how painful his death must have been. Thompson was the first to speak. ‘By all that is holy, we are too late!’ ‘Of course you are, you idiot. You always are. You try to break the cycle, but I will not allow it.’ ‘We may be too late to save the boy, but we are still here in plenty of time to send your. ‘How are you going to play this, Ghost,’ he asked. One of the things I most liked about the Colonel was he didn’t try to micromanage his field agents. Once he had given me an assignment, while he might have suggestions about how to proceed, he left the actual details to me. He trusted me to do what needed to be done. ‘In two weeks I will contact you Colonel,’ I informed him, ‘hopefully that will give you time to find the traitor, but until then I am officially off the grid.’ ‘Uh, one final. More

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