Where had it gone wrong? How had Straker escaped from his captors? As Mason hunched there on the greasy oil-stained concrete floor, yet another question burned into his mind. Where was Straker now? If he was out there, alive, he should have emerged.
Hope flared in Mason’s breast. There might still be a chance. Continue reading
23rd June 2000
My nineteenth birthday tomorrow. And I have to work. As usual. Well, I suppose it’s better than being out of work, although I never intended to be a uni student here in London studying a combination of Languages and History of Warfare and have a job as well. Although a part-time waitressing isn’t really what I would call a job. It keeps me in beer money, and pays the rent. Most of the time anyway.
I owe it to him. At least I think I do. It’s hard to recall everything now, to remember what happened, to see things as they must have been, then. But he was my friend. I remember that much. And so I owe him something. Continue reading