“So, what’s the point of this exercise, since it would appear we are not under attack by the hordes from hell?” David asked, as the Mercedes G-Wagon headed pell-mell along the surface of the winding asphalt road. He was cradling the lethal machine pistol…….
The call came at six in the morning. Arch’s eyes snapped open and he pushed a button on the television remote, before tossing it aside in disgust. It took a few seconds for him …..
Arch rose at six a.m. on Monday morning. No phone call awakened him. The second day hangover, easing only slightly after the first brutal day, following his post-mission bender, had brought him unwillingly awake.
