WEDNESDAY, THIRD MORNING AFTER EASTER He’d left the smuggling party behind on the way down to the valley, racing despite his heavy load, dawn was just arriving, a grey cloudy day, typical West Country [more…]
The Turk was almost ecstatic, after all the set-backs, the doubts, only nine-eleven put this in the shade, and this was somehow more personal, more intimate, a stab at the heart of a major western [more…]
The emergency sub-committee were all back in the main room: the ceasefire at Broadcasting House was over two hours old now and disparate reports were starting to be assimilated, an incomplete but increasingly coherent picture [more…]
“If you watch live broadcast, you need a TV licence” Funny, that statement. Firstly, most people assume you need a TV licence if you have a TV. It’s understandable, from the perpetual onslaught by the [more…]
Why had he said that, the flood of relief perhaps at this unexpected, nay miraculous, escape from his impetuous stupidity? The man’s wife, a barely repressed desire to tell him she was safe? “I’ll report [more…]
Andy Bowson received the command and sprinted across the street, followed by the others. Visibility was returning, only the smoke billowing out from parts of the building giving them any cover from unseen gunmen that [more…]
“I’ve been offered a new job”, confided Pooh to Piglet as they sat in the autumn sunshine in Hundred Acre Wood. “I wasn’t really looking for one, but a nice man from the BBC Department [more…]
One of Andy Bowson’s team spotted movement through the settling dust high up in Broadcasting House and called out; Andy trained his carbine’s telescopic sight on it to see four half naked women lined up [more…]
Consider if you will, just how much our society has changed in your lifetime. I’m fully aware that at the age of 37 I’m one of the younger denizens of Going Postal, yet I can [more…]
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