The national conference
[Two weeks after the funeral]
"Target locked in. F*ck, who the hell is that?" Jason mumbled as he moved his pointer finger away from the trigger of the rifle he had positioned seven blocks away from the home of the prime minister of England at 10 Downing Street. He was about taking down Paul Frost when there came a distraction...
Paul Frost stood still having his eyes fixed on an old wind vane just outside 10 Downing street, eastwards, as Rt. Hon. Ben Dickson the secretary of state for defence walked up to him along with four security agents assigned to ensure his safety. Paul Frost dropped the cigarettes he has in-between his right fingers on the floor and stepped on it before turning his neck to speak to Ben Dickson who immediately asked him a critical questio
