
In the final story arc here we are introduced us to Loop, a young black guy raised in Philadelphia by his Ma, and whose Father is just someone she refers to. He has every nuance, every cadence of urban street patter down to perfection. So clever is this that there's a stand-alone chapter in the next book containing two seemingly separate stories seamlessly interwoven and choreographed across a single park, and I cannot fault a word of dialogue. Shepherd, the Trust, the Minutemen and their history. And some of them haven't a clue they were victims, let alone connected. Strings are being pulled while ties have already been severed activations occur, more revenge is sought, but neither the original victims nor on occasion the original perpetrator are necessarily unconnected to Graves's past or present. Would you use that gun, knowing you could get away with murder?Īs the series progresses it becomes increasingly evident that this isn't a game, it's not even a private obsession. How is that possible? Why is he doing it? By "untraceable" I mean that if even a single bullet is found at the scene of any crime, investigations into it will cease immediately. There's also a gun and 100 rounds of untraceable ammunition. In that case is irrefutable evidence that someone has seriously screwed you over plus the culprit's identity. Gripping conspiracy crime fiction which, initially, looks simple enough: Agent Graves, a man of almost pensionable age in a suit and tie, arrivals on your doorstep with a briefcase. Collects first three 100 BULLETS volumes in one! It's a thing DC's doing now.
