MICHAEL WEST'S JOURNEY FROM TORMENT TO TRIUMPH

SUBTERFUGE

The officer in charge walked briskly along the corridor. Liam and Steven followed behind staunchly, confident in their steps. The officer knocked on a door. A voice responded from inside.

‘Come in.’

The officer opened the door and stepped aside for the two men to step inside. Then he stepped outside and closed the door. The office was sparse, except for a few standing cabinets and picture frames on the wall; one was for the president of the country and the other was of the mayor of Beaumont city. There were other picture frames that showed the commissioner receiving awards. The commissioner’s desk stood on the far end on the other side of the room, directly opposite the door.

‘Mr Liam. Good to see you again.’ the man behind the desk stood up and walked over to where Steven and Liam stood.

‘Ah commissioner, it has been a while that we have spoken or seen.’ Liam responded.

‘Ah yes.’ The commissioner said. ‘to what do I owe this honour?’

‘I am here to an old friend concerning a matter.