Mirror, Mirror on the Wall
Charles stared up at the once welcoming silhouette of the Mansion apprehensively. It had been so many long and harrowing months since he had been here before it, and he was surprised to see it still in tact. He had rather thought the CIA would have destroyed it.
Curling his fingers around the door handle, he let out a breath he had not realized he had been holding, pulling the sturdy wooden door open as silently as he could manage. He just wanted to grab a few things. It was foolish and impetuous, but he longed for a few more favorable memories. If nothing else, a few of his old books from Oxford and the chess board that held so many painfully fond nights.
If the CIA had posted operatives there, he would deal with them. He needed at least those small comforts if he was going to continue to retain his sanity these long months ahead of running from town to town, always glancing over his shoulder and sleeping with one eye open. Just in to his old study and out and no one would be any the wiser for it.
Curling his fingers around the door handle, he let out a breath he had not realized he had been holding, pulling the sturdy wooden door open as silently as he could manage. He just wanted to grab a few things. It was foolish and impetuous, but he longed for a few more favorable memories. If nothing else, a few of his old books from Oxford and the chess board that held so many painfully fond nights.
If the CIA had posted operatives there, he would deal with them. He needed at least those small comforts if he was going to continue to retain his sanity these long months ahead of running from town to town, always glancing over his shoulder and sleeping with one eye open. Just in to his old study and out and no one would be any the wiser for it.