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Like a frail body with organs in slow decay, sick states struggle on in a tragedy that to untrained eyes is anything but a malady.

To the trained eye, the tragedy of a deliberate self-imposed death can be surmised from every heartbeat and every breath.

The eyes of Markus and those he walked with were well-trained.

Eyes that had seen enough to know that in a failing body some organs must fail first, so that other, more vital organs may survive to sustain life.

Trained minds that knew which organs to first give up to the enemy, which later, and which never.

When they finally did come, the blacksuits came in from the four directions of the wind and landed late into the night under cover of darkness as a hundred different nations in Malta slept, work, travel, traffic, rent, leisure, expenses and raging rat races on their mind.

At the time of their coming, no one knew who they were or what their mission was. Yet those who saw them saw they all wore black.