The Whitehall Syndicate: A Time Travel Conspiracy Thriller - Plot & Excerpts
After an eventful night, and with fear of more intruders to come, none of the inhabitants had slept much. Anisha rubbed her eyes wearily, the strain of being up all night having left them sore. Outside she could already hear the rabble of shoppers gathering early for a bargain hunt in the capital. She stretched her arms; they were painful and stiff from the position she had fallen asleep in. Her back also throbbed, probably from spending the night on her ancient sofa bed. She got up and peered around the corner to see Jack with earphones on, playing the instructions yet again. Nothing about this situation made any sense. He had struggled all night to find a reason behind it, to find some small scrap of logic. But from what Anisha saw now, he hadn't managed to so far. If one good thing came of last night, it was Anisha turning around her position and agreeing to help Jack check if the detached fingers were his. He had volunteered his own prints but unfortunately, with today's sophisticated duplicate software, it wasn't quite that simple.
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