Yarborough’s eyes remained defiant and proud. “And if I refuse?”

Kruger slipped a massive, bone-handled knife from a sheath on his back and stabbed it into the surface of Yarborough’s desk. “If you make me do it, I’ll take your whole hand, and then I’ll cauterize the wound using your lovely torch lighter. I wouldn’t want you to die on me.”

“You’re insane. I will do no such thing, and if you lay a hand on me, I’ll—”

“You’ll do what? Even during your prime, you would have been no match for me. Now, you’re old and not good for much beyond sitting behind a desk. And don’t forget the other thing I’ll need from you … The retinal scan.”

Yarborough’s eyes showed fear for the first time.

“I’ll make you a deal, Quentin. If you cut off the thumb, I’ll let your eye stay where it is until I need your scan. It’s nasty business anyway. But if you try to defy me, I’ll take your hand, and then I’ll take your eye.”

Yarborough’s gaze traveled to the bone-handled knife stuck in his desk and then to the pair of shears. He started to reach for the shears, but Kruger knew what the old soldier was thinking: Grab the knife quickly and slash up for the throat.

It wouldn’t have been a bad plan, if Yarborough had been thirty years younger, and Kruger had not trained with the knife for hours on end.

With a quick lunge, Yarborough made his move, but Kruger had already pulled the blade free, grasped the manager by the arm, and hacked down onto the man’s wrist with all of his force. The bone-handled knife was razor sharp, and Kruger was a powerful man. The hand came off easily, falling to the tile floor as Quentin Yarborough issued a shrill cry of anguish.

As promised, Kruger snatched up the torch lighter and put the flame to the stump where Yarborough’s hand had once been. The manager’s pain sensors were on overload, and his brain shut the man down like flipping a switch. He passed out and fell back into the leather chair.

Kruger finished burning the wound, which would likely lead to infection but would also keep the man from bleeding to death. He wiped the knife clean on Yarborough’s suit, took a deep breath, and saw flashes of women and children with their extremities removed. He pressed his palms to his eyes to block out the visions.

When he looked back at Yarborough, Kruger was relieved that the old soldier had passed out on him. He didn’t think he could have handled the enucleation if the man was wide awake and kicking.

He removed his toolkit and repeated the procedure he had performed on Fred Little, removing the eye cleanly from the body. Then he bandaged the bloody socket and left Yarborough passed out in his chair. He retrieved the hand and eye and placed them into two large freezer bags. Then he opened the office door and yelled, “Sparks, clean that mess up and drop what’s left of him on the couch.”