Lt. Curie’s boots tapped the tiled floor at ruin’s edge. She began collecting gaseous chemical data prone to dissipate before forensic equipment arrived.
Her bio-assistant gasped. “That bomb did a number.”
Lt. Curie wheeled on her heel. “Refrain from voicing your opinions.” She deleted the superfluous remark and focused on the debris. Searching…searching…
She watched as investigator bots removed charred interfaces and twisted supports from Major Bohr’s inert form. Simultaneous with the blast, his link had gone silent. Wiring protruded from his face. Curie stored the image in a sub-folder, <Memory>, nested in a sub-folder, <Revenge>.
Friday Fictioneers: 100-word stories
photo prompt: J. Hardy Carroll