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Chapter 8-3
Graham parked the red German sports car he had rented two streets down from the building where Morton was being held. He lifted the black leather case he had shipped his axe in out of the trunk and slung it over his shoulder. He walked the two blocks to the rented house Albert had told him of in the instructions left at the shipping office, watching carefully all the way for any sign he’d been set up. Other than normal every day citizens and a handful of tourists, he saw no one suspicious. He sensed no immortals. Stopping before the house, Graham slipped behind a tall hedge when he saw someone running out of the house. Whoever they were they were too small to be Seymour. Or one of his giant henchmen who’d ambushed him in New Mexico. Albert? Graham stepped around the hedge, ready to conf
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