So was his bag. It had been searched, and the Molotov cocktails and Coke cans discovered. That had just about clinched it. His hands were cuffed behind his back. The two policemen in the front of the car didn’t look the least sympathetic as they wove through the traffic towards the station. There’d been three cars and two ambulances outside the club when Sam was marched out of it at gunpoint. He’d wanted to explain that the ice spells and general disruption were nothing a good cup of coffee couldn’t deal with, and that the only real casualty was Hindsonn. He’d have been more inclined to add that if Hindsonn died, he’d be really, really pissed off. The policemen had searched him, but there’d been nothing a bit of illusion couldn’t disguise. His dagger was still in his sleeve. Sam shifted position slightly, so that the fingertips of his right hand could touch the lock of the left cuff. Tendrils of force were sent out from his fingers’ ends, restrained, slipped into the lock, pushed.
What do You think about Timekeepers: Number 2 In Series?
