” Mikey suggested.“Needs summat,” Nozzer agreed.Now poor old Nozzer couldn’t hold his beer. Ten pints was his lot and even then he wobbled al... over the road when he rode his motorbike. “That’s how queers started,” I said, “Some poor bastard couldn’t shit so his mate buggered him to loosen it up.”“You offering Chalk?” Nozzer said.“No way, but I reckon one of that lot would oblige.” I says pointing to the lounge bar where several sharply dressed blokes was sat round. I knew one of them, . Sit on the futon with him. Make small talk. Ask him about his girlfriend. I’m sure he’ll be more than willing.”She gave me a look and took a big sip of her wine but got busy in the kitchen. I went into the bedroom, adjusted the curtains carefully and took my position on the bed that was right by the window. As I suspected, Brad eagerly accepted the invitation to come inside for a drink.“Come sit over here,” I heard her say. “Do you mind if I sit with you?” God, I love that woman!I could hear. No one could be more surprised by this turn of events than I am. It seems that Sara and her band of companions have finally run off the tracks of my imagination and have taken on a life of their own. I wonder sometimes if this happens to other authors (if you have an informed opinion I would greatly appreciate hearing it). Do not confuse my loss of control of my characters with insanity. I do not believe for instance that these characters are real (although some are), but rather when I write,. Bobbing my head up and down, “Mmm.”Much as I’d like to go directly at Hugh Macklin, I’d learned from Matt Striker that attacking the head could be counterproductive. Miss the target, and you’ve alerted him. Smarter, tougher people could be brought in as extra protective layers.The New Jersey raid had missed the target, but Hugh Macklin himself had not been mentioned in the warrant. Was he aware of it? Of course; the man is a brilliant tactician. For now, he seemed content to let underlings.