Prologue

Kirby Plaza Building, New York, NY

The first thing Jefferson noticed was the blood. There was so much of it, pooled here, smeared there, it was as if he was standing in the aftermath of a civil war battle. The body of a white haired man lay in the middle of it all, the back of his head completely gone. A man in a dark suit was kneeling over the body writing things down in a small note pad

"What happened?" he asked the man. the man stood up, Jefferson didn't know his name so he decided to call the stranger simply "Notepad." He took a step back and turned around. He was tall, thin, salt and pepper hair and a face heavily wrinkled by both time and a hard life. His brown eyes met those of Jefferson,

"Linderman's dead." He replied calmly.

"I figured that much when you called me." Jefferson snapped back "I mean how did it happen."

"Hard to tell, I'd say brain trauma but I'm not entirely sure about that."

"Why not?" Jefferson asked looking at the head wound wondering what else it could possibly be."

"Because it's missing." The man said not even bothering to look at Jefferson.

"What is?" Jefferson looked around; everything seemed to be in place. The man pulled out a hip-flask, took a quick swallow and said

"His brain."

"Sylar." Jefferson said under his breath

Notepad took another swallow and said "Not quite, according to our Intel he was down in the plaza when your guy was killed."

"But then who else could it be?" Jefferson inquired becoming increasingly annoyed by the man's smug attitude

"No idea" responded Notepad "but by the size and shape of the hole" he actually said, "hole" not "wound" or "injury." Hole. "It almost looks as if someone put their fist through the back of his head." He finally put the pad in his pocket "know anyone that could do that?"

He did, Jefferson knew many things about Mr. Linderman's "side projects" but did not tell Notepad any of it. that is not how his boss would have wanted things handled.

"Not at all"

"Well I think that's about all there is then, my partners waiting for me downstairs"

"I'll show you out." Jefferson said out of common courtesy. They rode in the elevator surrounded by a thick fog of uncomfortable silence until Notepad broke it.

"You mentioned Sylar earlier today. Why? Are you worried?"

Shocked by the man's statement it took Jefferson a few minutes to find his tongue.

"No," he replied finally "he already has my ability."

"That's good" Notepad said, "I guess."

"What about you?" Jefferson asked, hoping it was not too bold.

"Hopefully mines too useless for him to want." Notepad said coolly "did the guy have any family?" he asked.

"Yes," Jefferson answered "he and his wife separated some time ago but he has a daughter and two grandchildren, I'll be calling them immediately."

Finally the car reached the bottom floor and the door opened but Notepad didn't walk through them immediately. Instead he turned to Jefferson

"May I make a suggestion?" he said

"What is it?" Jefferson replied slightly annoyed.

"Call the police first." He crossed the threshold and into the lobby. Relieved to be rid of the man Jefferson breathed a sigh of relief when the doors started to close. The sigh transformed into a gasp when a hand shot between the two sliding doors and forced them open again. It was Notepad.

"I almost forgot." He said "if you need anything else" He reached into his pocket and for a moment Jefferson thought that he was going to pull out the flask again but instead he pulled out a small piece of paper. "Here's my card." With that he stepped out the doors closed, and he was gone. Jefferson looked at the card on one side it had the Primatech Paper company logo, on the other it simply read "Samuel Walker." Notepad had a name.