The Edge of Armageddon by David Leadbeater

Author:David Leadbeater [Leadbeater, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-04-03T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

Julian Marsh figured that, without a doubt, he was the happiest man alive. Directly in front of him lay a primed, trussed up nuclear weapon, close enough to touch, his to play with on a whim. To his left curled a divine, beautiful woman, also his to play with on a whim. And she to play with him of course, though a particular area was starting to get a little sore from all the attention. Maybe some of that whipped cream . . .

But continuing on his previous and most important train of thought—a passive terrorist cell sat near the window, again his to play with on a whim. And then there was the American government, chasing their tails all over the city, running scared and running blind, his to play—

“Julian?” Zoe breathed a hair’s breadth from his left ear. “Want me to head down south again?”

“Sure, but don’t inhale the bastard like you did last time. Give him a little breathing space, eh?”

“Ooh, of course.”

Marsh let her have her fun, and then thought about what would happen next. Mid-morning had already passed, and certain deadlines were approaching. The time was almost here when he would unwrap another burner cell and call Homeland with the dead-drop demands. Of course, he knew there would be no actual “dead-drop”, not with five hundred million being exchanged, but the principal was the same and could be executed similarly. Marsh gave gratitude to the gods of sin and iniquity. With those guys on your side what couldn’t be accomplished?

Like all good dreams this one would come to an end, but Marsh determined that he would enjoy it while it lasted.

Patting Zoe on the head and then standing up, he untied one of his shoe laces and walked over to the window. With two minds often came two different viewpoints, but both of Marsh’s personalities were au fait with this scenario. How could either of them lose? He’d pilfered one of Zoe’s condoms and now tried to pull it over one hand. In the end he gave in and made do with two fingers. Hell, it still satisfied his inner quirkiness.

As he wondered what to do with the spare shoelace, the cell leader rose and stared over at him, giving Marsh a blank smile. This was Gator, or as Marsh privately referred to him—the Gatorous One—and, though quiet and clearly slow, he did have a look of danger about him. Marsh guessed he was probably one of the vest-wearing types. A pawn. As expendable as a long piss. Marsh guffawed aloud, breaking eye contact with the Gatorous One at just the right moment.

Zoe followed in his footsteps, taking a look out the window.

“Nothing to see,” Marsh said. “Lest you enjoy scrutinizing humanity’s lice.”

“Oh, at times they can be amusing.”

Marsh looked around for his hat, the one he liked to wear canted at an angle. Of course, it had disappeared, maybe even before he reached New York. The last week had become a complete blur to him.

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