Ice-cold spy Lance “Preacher Priest is back. And this time he’s dead.
A dead Lance Priest is even scarier than a live one.
He is a ghost, a phantom. He is THE PERFECT ANGEL.
Blazing, flying, hurtling he came. The Black Angel.
Death lay in his wake. Moving, ever moving. To stop was to consider the previous moment and that led to consideration of prior minutes, hours, days, months. Instead, he hunted. He killed. Slaughtered perhaps a more appropriate word. Yes, slaughter. That described his actions.
Down from the mountainside he drifted, danced, dealt death. And then more death. The Black Angel was more than myth. He was real, too real for many.