A dead Harrison would have solved nothing; there would still have been Chloe, and Anthony, and the rest.

A recorded Harrison, walking into a room to murder a man who turned out to be awake and documented, solved everything, because it was the thread that, pulled, would unravel the entire conspiracy.

So I did not arm myself.

I did not lie in wait to kill.

I lay back on the pillows, and I slowed my breathing to the shallow rhythm of a man deep in irreversible sleep, and I let the monitor beep its slow hypnotic beep, and I waited, awake and defenseless and recorded, for the men who thought they were coming to kill a corpse.

My only weapon was the truth, about to capture itself.