Historical Fun

Read from the start here Read previous page here. BLACK DAWN: CHAPTER ONE - SCENE THREE VICTOR RADOVIC: BLACK DAWN BASE OF OPERATIONS, LONDON. The abandoned factory was vast, echoing, and heavy with damp. Viktor Radovic stood in the heart of the makeshift command centre, smoking in silence, the embers flaring briefly as he drew in a lungful of smoke. Overhead, a row of flickering industrial lights cast jittery shadows on the stained bulletin board holding a world map riddled with red markers, each one puncturing its surface like a wound. Across from him, the Englishman in his tailored suit paced, restless and anxious. Viktor had little patience for men like him, confident when in control, unravelling when it slipped through their fingers. A man of wealth and privilege, but his hands had never been truly dirty. Viktor knew his kind well. Useful, for a time. Disposable, in the end. “Everything is in place?” the Englishman asked, his voice sharp with aristocratic unease. Viktor’s steel-gr...

Read previous scene here : Michael Fawkes - The cellars beneath Westminster Palace  BLACK DAWN - CHAPTER ONE - SCENE TWO THOMAS RAND: MI6 UNDERCOVER AGENT, LONDON, ENGLAND . Thomas Rand sat in the corner booth, half in light, half in shadow. From here he could see the door, the window, the counter, and the battered kitchen door with its oval glass porthole. Nothing came in or out without passing through his line of sight. The diner itself was a relic, a stage-set left over from another age; chrome edges dulled by time, cracked leather seats that sighed when you sat down, a jukebox in the corner that hadn't played since the Blair government. The coffee in front of him was stone-cold. Untouched. The waitress, a thin woman with the posture of someone who'd fought a thousand small battles and lost most of them, had stopped trying to top it up. Rand's mind was elsewhere, running the last three days like a reel of film. Each moment had wound him tight. Each hour a turn of the scr...