Those first three minutes would, he thought, remain with him forthe rest of his life. The three minutes as the car moved downtowards the Gateway. Thre... minutes of uncertainty, of growing fearthat the wren's message was but a trap, that the cable would beactive. Of fear of the certain physical agony that awaited him:fear of the agony that would accompany the final destruction of hismanhood..Then less than three minutes. Much less. And escape seemed foolish.He could stop it now .... He could. *Standing amidst the milling mob of media whores and camera crews, hardly above peeping toms taking Polaroid pictures of the neighbor lady behind half lowered blinds, one real investigative journalist waited alone for that one tasty bit of news to spring board her stalled career into the big times.Kerry Graham, her gray gaze hid behind oversized sunglasses, smirking thin lips which actually filled out the lean hungry cheeks, had a readership of only three thousand print though her website. More

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