Claire Genest was a chemist. A brilliant young woman with a knack for weights, measurements, and the knowledge of how to combine common chemicals to produce an explosive. She was the one who had designed the bomb, assembled it, and taught the others how to install it. Claire was, by all reports, a woman worthy of both fear and respect.
Unfortunately, she suffered from a tremendous amount of confidence.
I spent the majority of the night of the ninth into the morning of the tenth traveling to New Hampshire and searching out where I might find Claire. She moved about frequently within the confines of the town of Hudson, New Hampshire, and its neighboring city, Nashua.
Early in the morning, I found her in Nashua and spent a productive morning following her and deciding where it would be best to intercept the young woman and begin a rather vigorous round of questioning.
Around noon, I stopped at a small diner up the street from her place of employment, and I watched while I ate and had a bottle of beer.
At exactly 12:13, according to my watch, Claire Genest made a mistake. A mistake which cost her not only her own life but that of three co-workers and two patrons. In addition to this, it destroyed the small apartment she lived in behind her workplace.
While I was not particularly saddened to see the death of the bomb-maker, I was slightly put out at having to find a different source of information for the next in the chain of command.
While going over information previously gathered, I discovered there was a man by the name of Ian Toll in Nashua.
In the morning, barring any further explosions, I would be able to speak with Mr. Toll and see where the next step might lie.
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