"[...] He had the pathologist's report in hand. He glanced over the details to where it described the bullet wounds. There were two more to the chest. He gestured. "Show me." The mortician looked around nervously before carefully gripping the white stain-proof sheet. He folded it backward from the body's neck to reveal the torso. Alvarez examined the two neat holes in the sternum. "They look small caliber to me. Twenty-twos?" "No," the mortician answered. "All three wounds. Two to the chest, one to the head. 5.7 mm rounds." "Interesting." Alvarez leaned forward for a closer look. "What kind of range are we looking at?" "No powder burns so it wasn't point blank, other than that I can't tell you. Listen, I'm just an assistant here. I'm not a ballistics expert. I... I don't know very much." No shit, Alvarez thought. He considered for a moment. That the rounds were 5.7 mm meant an FN Five-seveN, one of the world's slickest and most expensive handguns. He pictured the scene in his head. Double-tap to the heart, then, as the victim was prone, head to one side, the killer put one extra through the frontal lobe. Not taking any chances. Alvarez was no stranger to professional killings, and this execution was about as professional as they came. He blinked the image away."