Last Light
“In less than ninety minutes, I was going to be shitting on my own doorstep big-time. I only hoped the Firm knew what it was doing, because I wasn't too sure that I did.As I looked down yet again at the clear plastic lunch-box on the desk in front of me, three torch bulbs sticking out of holes I'd burnt in the lid stared back up. None of them was illuminated;the three snipers were still not in position.Everything about this job was wrong. We'd been given the wrong weapons. We were in the wrong p...lace. And there just hadn't been enough time to plan and prepare.I stared through the net curtains across the boat-filled river. The Houses of Parliament were some 350 metres away to my half left.The office I'd broken into was on the top floor of County Hall, the former Greater London Council building. Now redeveloped into offices, hotels and tourist attractions, it overlooked the Thames from the south side. I was feeling rather grand sitting behind a highly polished, dark wood desk, as I looked out at the killing ground.Parliament's terrace spanned the whole of its river frontage.MoreLess
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