demon/hood to the rescue
Jason still didn't know who knew what about the former Gwen Dailey. He knew no one was aware she'd been sneaking out, which they'd take as unacceptable even if she had willingly come back on her own. They couldn't know that he had sealed up her only window to the outside world; watched her turn away from him, wet-eyed and disappointed, and seen a dead girl.
Top brass knew who Gwen was to him. It was why he was here, why they'd stationed him with the subject and the lab. He knew that. But it didn't feel safe to share that information with anyone else if he didn't have to, and he knew that was a sign of weakness. It was his weakness, though, his to combat on his own. He was committed to doing what was right, and he had come to believe that way led through the Dragon. That meant doing things that were hard, and sometimes doing things that tempted him.
If there was one thing no one needed to worry about, it was that the hardening of his heart would not slip, and neither would the rage that had driven him since around the time he'd been old enough to know why his mother locked herself in her bedroom every night. His faith in the cause was rooted in a determination to achieve the right result, and tonight was a case in point.
Sealing the hole in their security was satisfying. No more jaunts out, no more seeing the world. No more tears, either. She'd have nothing to cry about if she didn't have anything to miss, and in the facility, she would be safe. Her safety was what mattered, even if it made her miserable.
He felt a little steadier, after, and the message was just what the doctor ordered. He could feel that old itch to be out, to feed his rage by smashing in the skulls of a the kind of thugs who locked up little girls. Zealots sounded like just the ticket. Missions like this one were why he'd committed himself so completely.
He came around the edge of the cemetery wall with a minimum of sound and no obvious point of approach. In his previous life, with his old mentor, he'd never been the lightest member of the family on his feet, but he could be quieter than broad shoulders and a vicious uppercut might suggest. His face was obscured by the deep black hood, heavy enough and low enough that it almost completely obscured the scarlet mask underneath. A ragged cloak and black body armor kept his movements difficult to track and his most vulnerable spots protected, just in case something got by him. Not that it was likely.