Tossing his cap onto the
kitchen table, the slight military man rinsed his red face from a water jug in
the sink. As he dried himself, he looked at Sowerbutt. “We need your help.” Sowerbutt’s mouth dropped.
“Don’t tell me you’ve lost him again.” The slight military man sighed: “As you can
imagine, Sorbay, a lot of unhappy people at the end of telephone lines. The
Prime Minister, himself, has asked for your assistance.”
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