Grey Areas HTML version

Chapter 1
Monday 24th October 2014 – London, England
GMT 15:38
The man moved hastily down the busy corridor, glancing backwards every so often
to check he wasn’t being followed. His oafish girth impeded any great speed and it
was with some awkwardness that he squeezed past junior aides and ministers
heading in the opposite direction, trying not to be too forceful when pushing
through but eager to complete his task as soon as he could. Finally he managed to
fight his way into a private chamber, bolting the door behind him as he fumbled his
mobile phone free with a sweaty hand. Dialling a number from memory, he sat
heavily in a plush armchair, wheezing from his efforts. His call was answered
almost instantly.
‘It’s been decided, you’re not getting what you want. He’s going in
completely the opposite direction; the old bastard actually thinks the public will
- 3 -