Dexter swallowed. “What is it?”
“That was the Commanding Officer of the US Ranger’s Delta Force strike team. They just arrived at the doctor’s house.”
“And… what did they find?”
“Dr. Patterson’s dead. His body was carved with surgical precision into small pieces and then set up to look like it was laughing at them all, like some sort of sick joke.”
The muscles around Dexter’s lips tightened into a grimace. He felt his gut churn. “Really?”
“That’s what the Ranger said.” His assistant sighed. “It’s the sort of thing Excalibur would do.”
Dexter sighed. “You’re right, some weapons can’t be destroyed.”
“There’s something else you should know.”
“What?”
“They found a note written in the doctor’s blood.”
Dexter said, “Go on. What did it say?”
His assistant bit his lower lip, gritted his teeth. He expelled a deep breath of air. “It said, You’re next, Dexter.
Dexter was silent.
His assistant asked, “What are you going to do, sir?”
Dexter remained silent. His mind ticking over like clockwork. Every answer returning to the same conclusion. If he stayed, he would be dead.
“Do we come clean about the project?” his assistant asked.
Dexter shook his head emphatically. “Oh God, no! We’ll have civil rights groups from around the world breathing down our neck. No. We destroy all records that formed part of the program and shut it down for good.”
“What about Excalibur?”
Dexter swallowed. “You mean, do we go after him again?”
“Yeah.”
“No. You saw what the program did to a goddam dog? There’s no end of imagining what Excalibur’s capable of.”
“Yeah, you’re right. So what are you going to do?”
Dexter sighed. “The same thing any sane man would do. I’m going to do what Dr. Peterson couldn’t. I’m going to work out how to run.”