Tuesday, 11th of August 2021. ICBM Secret Base. 1540 Hours.
It was not the blue screens of the control room that made him opened his mouth widely. It was not the fact that the site had its onboard AI. No, it was the fact that there was a face. The face of someone that should not be there. The face of a certain person. A certain person that might spark another flame.
"Bloody hell…" Patrick aimed his MP7 at the computer screen that showed the face.
That face was the face of a certain person that Patrick knew. It was the face of an old acquaintance of Lynn. It was the face of Farl. Yes, it was the same Farl that staged everything from A to Z when Lynn was on her stage of an unstoppable rampage. Patrick searched for the nearest computer and he plugged the flash disk into one of the computers.
Patrick: "Charlie Papa, Herring, do you copy?"
Herring: "Loud and clear. Do you have anything to report in particular?"
