Staring in the shattered mirror. Snow lightly falling outside in the streets of Boston this year. It normally picks up in December early. It's late just like the crime rates. Maybe I've done my job too well. I haven't killed anyone in 6 months. Without punishment, what else do I have? My reflection didn't answer. Haven't shaved got the Navy Seal beard going, least my hair isn't too long. Shadows under my eyes from nights of uneasy sleep. Turning I grabbed my black trench coat. It was useful for covering my pair of Colt government issued 1911s fully loaded and customized for maximum accuracy and firepower. Steel core bullets to shatter like mini grenades when they struck bone, good stopping power. It also covered my now popular skull emblem body armor level 3 A highest grade. I didn't have stab plates on it as that reduces mobility. I need to be quick and as agile as I could at 56. Wasn't so hard when I was 20 something in the Nam wars. I reached for the handle and pulled the door open this old house was done no traces left behind nothing I'd miss time to move on. Closing the door my boots crunched softly on the snow as I moved aimlessly down the street looking for a reason to keep breathing.