Chapter One
1997. England.
They trailed behind.
The Colonel led, and congratulated and complimented the star attraction. The
minders walked alongside their man, smug with satisfaction.
Perry Johnson let them go ahead, Ben Christie stayed with his major. The evening
rain blustered against them. He knew the old boy was about to launch, felt sort
of sorry for him, stayed with him to offer a shoulder and an ear. It had gone
well, standing ovation. Only a taster, though, and the Americans were bigger
players — they'd get more when the man went to Washington. But, for all that,
it was a taster, Ben could recognize quality material, the like of which seldom
came their way, and it was German. The three warrant officers and the two
sergeants, who had attended the briefing, held umbrellas over the guest and the
Colonel, the Brigadier and the civil servants who were down from London. It was
ritual to take an honored visitor to the officers' mess at the end of the day.
They weren't twenty-five paces from B block, not even within two hundred yards
of the mess, before poor old Perry, the dinosaur, began to flush it out of his
system.
"Look at him, so damn full of himself. F ... read full excerpt from: Dead Ground: A Novel ebook
