Read B003J5UJ4U EBOK for Free Online

Something stung my neck. I looked down. The other guy, still on the ground, held a gun pointed at me.
    I ripped the gun from his hand and sent it flying across the street. But the rushing darkness told me it was too late. I realized I’d already been shot.
    “Sweet dreams,” he said. “You and me—we’re going to make history.”
    I tried to pull the dart from my neck. But my hand wouldn’t cooperate. Neither would my mind. Then something flipped a switch in my brain and everything shut down.
    AN INTERNAL FBI MEMO RECENTLY
OBTAINED UNDER THE FREEDOM OF
INFORMATION ACT
To :
All field offices
Subject:
Clarification of request from
    As covered in last month’s briefing, we have been requested to forward toall material related to any cases marked “unexplained.” Please note that this does not include instances where the perpetrator is merely unknown.has requested we provide reports of only those crimes where the means or method remains unexplained.

a year before—a random act of meanness
    “ I THINK YOU’RE about to learn a harsh lesson,” Major Douglas Bowdler whispered as he watched the little boy. He paused on the sidewalk and pretended to adjust the buttons of his jacket as he waited for his chance. Sure enough, the boy put the large box down on his lawn and went back inside the house.
    “Careless,” Bowdler said. That was the problem with the world. People were careless. They lacked discipline. Their minds were weak. Nobody took responsibility for anything.
    Bowdler walked to the edge of the lawn, where it was bounded by a waist-high chain-link fence, and looked into the box. Toy soldiers. Hundreds of them, each no bigger than a child’s thumb. Obviously, this was the boy’s treasure. It was nice to see that young people still admired soldiers, even if they didn’t understand discipline.
    He was pleased that he’d been in the neighborhood. He was looking for a location for the lab. The place he’d just checked out wasn’t right. Too close to other houses. Too manylarge windows. No basement. He’d had his doubts about the suburbs, but his partner, Thurston, had insisted on exploring various possibilities.
    Bowdler was sure the city would provide better choices than these outlying areas. Everyone minded his own business in the city. Not that it really mattered, since the lab would never be used to contain a human subject. They were hunting for something that didn’t exist. He wasn’t troubled by this. They were being well paid. Even though the property wasn’t right, the trip wasn’t a total loss. Not now that he’d spotted a target of opportunity.
    He scanned the perimeter in search of a way to dispose of the toys. There were always storm drains. But he found something much better. Traffic had backed up at the light. A concrete truck was right in front of him.
Perfect.
Bowdler hesitated for a fraction of a second as he imagined losing his own priceless collection of military relics. But sympathy was for losers and empathy was for the weak. And he would never be as careless as this boy. He leaned over the fence, snatched up the box, took five steps to the curb, flicked his wrist, and sent the toy soldiers into the slowly rotating muck of sand, gravel, and cement. Five more steps and he replaced the empty box.
    He didn’t bother to stay and observe what happened when the boy discovered that his treasures were missing. The immediate reaction—the wailing and crying—wasn’t important. What counted was the lesson. The lost soldiers would make an impression. The boy would learn responsibility.Maybe even grow up to be a soldier. It was possible to mold young minds into any shape one might desire.
    Pleased that he’d made the world a better place, Bowdler walked back to where he’d parked his car.
    OVERHEARD AT A CONSTRUCTION
SITE LAST JUNE
     
    GUY # 1: Hey, what’s that in the concrete?
    GUY # 2: Looks like some kinda plastic.
    GUY # 1: There’s a bunch of it. Should we tell someone?
    GUY # 2: