He had found them.
For months, years, or perhaps merely weeks, he had tracked them, followed them, sought them. He no longer knew how long it had been; it was no longer important. He was alive, and so were they. Nothing else mattered, nothing else could, until he found them, until he ended things, and perhaps even beyond then. Maybe once he no longer had anything to live for he would merely cease to exist.
That didn't matter either.
He had found them.
The time for vengeance had come.
It was a massacre; they were everywhere, the killers who destroyed his life, his only sister.
Those still alive were running or hiding for there life, there terror in there eyes as he took there death picture, he still had a ways to go, he even thought about asking MacGyver to help in the kills but he knew MacGyver would turn him down thinking it was a game in the end.
The reminding living their salvation came.
But was it their salvation? When HIT showed there face, there evil ways came into play instead of letting
Murdoc take his vengeance. They took it for him.