Cold Revenge
It was Sunday evening in late February and the Globonautics building was all but deserted. Outside the wind was whipping up a storm, and Chad Nelson stared at the swirling rain lashing the car park on the video monitor in his office. He hoped the weather wasn't going to ruin his night. Nelson was stocky in build, with a close cropped military style haircut and a rigid demeanour. His grey eyes were strong, with a gaze that seemed to cut through anyone who challenged him. At fifty-two, Nelson...