Chapter Nine

 

Friday, January twenty-ninth, Atlanta, Georgia had its share of strollers, although the broadcast still freezing with sleet, for Executioner, the night remained youthful.

He pulled the wool cap closer to his eyelids. Transporting a large backpack bouncing against his back, his steel toe boots trampled the ice forcing it into fragments. He sped up his pace toward his destination.

Finally, the stranger came to an abandoned building. The Melting Steel Industry was its former name. He hurried toward the building’s rear through the vacant parking area. Rushing up to the structure’s alternative entrance, he climbed a ladder pinned aside the building. When he made it to the top, he held onto the ledge, pulling upward, then slipped the backpack off of his shoulders. He put it on the roof, stood solid on top of the building. Glancing toward the court across the street, the Executioner cheeked his wristwatch 9:45.  

 He pulled the backpack near his boot, crouched a few feet