That fucking guy practiced the shit out of emergency situations, all the time. He wrote about them, gave speeches about them, taught other pilots abou... them. For all I know, once a month he'd be screwing his wife and she'd yell out "mid-air collision, number 2 engine is out, hydraulics are gone, what do you do?" and he'd have to answer before she'd finish him off.Anyway, whatever his technique, that cool handed fucker splashed down like he was flying a seaplane. The biggest problem they had (I. I'll call her back later.The dark clouds overhead made the night seem darker than normal. Lurking in the shadows opposite the Victorian terraced house, Dan's eyes, firmly directed towards the top window, had a hypnotic stare. The small lamp light emanating from inside the window was not great, but it was enough to recognise Saim strutting back and forth like a king in his castle. Wherever Saim was, his heavies would be. If he were a pile of shit then his heavies would be the flies. They were. More

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