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Topher Lydon

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  1. Topher Lydon
    Scott looked at him again, "What?" Luke snapped, sounding irritable, and Scott guessed he was wondering what kind of twit would walk through Town Farm on their own. Sure there were probably a few that could pull it off, but they had to be twice Scott's size, and anyone would think twice about taking on a guy built like heavyweight boxer. But Scott was small, smaller than your average lightweight. Great. Scott ambled alongside Luke, quite enjoying the stroll, and smirking over the fact that he
  2. Topher Lydon
    He had never realized that it would become a quest. He hadn't thought that entering England on his American passport would make a difference, he hadn't had time to wait for his English one to be processed and a passport was a passport right? He had quickly come to realize how wrong he was. The line at the home office in Croydon was immense. The kind of line you would expect to see outside a rock concert if everyone tried to buy his or her tickets at the same time. There was easily a thousa
  3. Topher Lydon
    The time waiting for the passport seemed to pass quickly; when Friday night had rolled around Scott had learned that his cousin Darren was to be putting in an appearance. For Scott this was cheerful news; Aunt Christine's eldest boy was Scott's age, and although his mother generally regarded him as a black sheep, he was a good person. Scott had shared many a scraped knee from adventures with Darren when he was younger and it was good to see a face his own age for a change rather than the unendin
  4. Topher Lydon
    Scott leapt awake, retreating up the bed as fast as he could, recoiling from the light touch. He must have made it halfway up the wall before he realized where he was and what was happening. And as he blinked away the sleep, he looked around him at the small room and the old woman who was looking as shocked as he was. "I'm sorry..." she began, setting the mug of tea down beside him on the bedside table. Scott took a deep breath and steadied his heart as he sat down cross-legged on the pill
  5. Topher Lydon
    Of all the things that could go wrong, Scott had been feeling particularly stubborn that day, deliberately ignoring all the pressed shirts and trousers, picking out a stylish pair of white cargos, a tee-shirt he had used to wear when he had whiled away last summer skating. And of course his prized visor cap. It let his black hair poke out of the top, a little bit of hair wax and the spikes stood out at odd angles. Gran had taken one look at him that morning and had sniffed something about his
  6. Topher Lydon
    Charity shops. It seemed that Hailsham was made up with about half of those second hand stores that were miniature versions of the Salvation Army store. They put a logo of an illness research society on the door, collect junk and resold it to unsuspecting passers by as the best deal out there. Scott huffed, blowing a strand of hair out of his face as he stood wearing a suit that was a size too large and put together somewhere back in nineteen ninety four. He swam in it, but his Gran was adama
  7. Topher Lydon
    The next two weeks seemed to drag by, those first days back home where Scott was still trying to find his footing. His grandmother had been overjoyed that he was making friends; she seemed especially pleased to meet Serena who had picked him up the next night to drive him into Eastbourne to join them at Bar Copa on the end of the pier. Scott was starting to relax; he enjoyed spending time with Serena, who had developed rather quickly into a stereotypical fag-hag. Or more aptly he had become h
  8. Topher Lydon
    There are those that say the Devil chooses his servants; others say that they choose him. Scott Walker didn't know much about the Devil; after all he hardly felt as if he worked for him in any serious capacity. He was purely a victim of circumstances, the butt of some cosmic joke that had his existence as its punch line. Scott could hardly say he believed in a Lord of Darkness, Prince of Lies and Master of the Underworld. He had heard all the stories in the church group he had been abandoned
  9. Topher Lydon
    Home is at the end of the road. For Scott Walker its been a long eight years living abroad. But now all he wants to do is go home. Yet coming home isn't easy as he realizes that while home hasn't changed, he has and trying to adjust to his old life isn't easy. He is caught up trying to prove that he isn't the stranger everyone mistakes him for. And love threatens to drag him into a bitter family rivalry.
  10. Topher Lydon
    It seemed like he spent most of his life on planes. The most defining moments in his life seemed to involve thirty-thousand feet of altitude in one fashion or another. Will supposed it was just the way his life had chosen to unfold itself, and he still remembered when he had first emigrated to Canada all those years ago, following his father's assignment as a military liaison. That trip had been in the opposite direction, and he certainly hadn't been placed in first class. But it had bee
  11. Topher Lydon
    "Sir?" West's sergeant examined the orders and looked up at his superior officer questioningly as West marched out of one of the 60's-style temporary buildings that were anything but temporary. "They're signed by the Major." West nodded, slipping on a pair of brown leather gloves and tucking his peaked cap onto his head. He regretted not being able to put on the camouflage fatigues of the rest of his men, but he didn't want to arouse suspicion of the two men in the Volvo who were waiting
  12. Topher Lydon
    "So what's the plan?" the newcomer asked, sitting on a palate and tearing back the top off of his coffee cup, sniffing it a moment before he took a sip. He shook his head at the smooth and rich flavour of the coffee and stared at it again suspiciously. "They do something to the coffee up here," Johnson said, absently resting a hand on his window, studying the world beneath him waking up to another new day. "So what did you find out from following the kid?" The newcomer lounged ba
  13. Topher Lydon
    Andrew drove the Mustang, weaving through traffic, accelerating around the other cars and pulling ahead to run down Olgilvie Road, back towards the CSIS building. He rested back in the bucket seat, one hand resting on the stick shift as he put the car through a workout that was as much to clear his head as it was to test the limits of the car. Will knew--at least that was one lie up and out in the open. He'd reacted exactly as Andrew had thought that he would. Will wasn't a person who en
  14. Topher Lydon
    Will sat in his home; it had seemed somehow fitting that he go back to the house in Toronto. Though it didn't have the same feel as the one he shared with Brody in Ottawa, it was more his own in a way the one in Ottawa could never be. He needed the time away to think, to recover. And to avoid the horde of press that seemed to follow him everywhere, demanding questions of him. What it was like to be shot for his country. How had he survived? Who he felt was behind the shooting. Wi
  15. Topher Lydon
    "Oi you come ova here you been givin mi mate any lip i'll beat da shit in to ya if ya do it agen alrite mate?" West listened to the argument raging outside barely understanding two words in ten. "Your such a minga your girl friend's a right slag. There's so many tossers in this town...don't walk away wen i'm talkin to ya..." He frowned and looked down at Will laying on the messy bunk beside him, his eyes bright despite the pain, watching his reaction with a smile. "You get used to that..
  16. Topher Lydon
    The lieutenant was nervous; he kept throwing glances over at the captain standing behind him, checking to make sure that he was doing everything right. Wondering if the appearance of the captain had been a last minute idea by his commanding officer. West kept quiet, occasionally looking towards the crowds nearby, to the faces in it, no doubt at least one of them were looking back at him. He smiled grimly, as he nodded to the lieutenant in approval. Making it look like he belonged there,
  17. Topher Lydon
    Marc rested his head against the metal railing of the fire escape. Their house was overrun by police all waiting for the telephone to ring, to get some clue or hint of where the missing Minister was. It was some ridiculous hour in the morning; Marc was on his second pack of cigarettes. Chain-smoking wasn't going to help Will, but Marc didn't know what else he could do. He shifted his gaze down to the alleyway where he'd parked Will's Jeep, a light smattering of rain beginning, and he fro
  18. Topher Lydon
    Will didn't like the security. They'd secured a floor in the hotel for him and his two staffers as well as a couple of aides from the Embassy. And yet Will felt increasingly uncomfortable. For people that were supposedly charged with his safety, they remained as threatening reminders of the fact that he wasn't safe. He wondered idly as he sat on the couch in the hotel suite, reviewing his speech for Sunday and the unveiling of the Cenotaph memorial. His tie loose and his sleeves rolled u
  19. Topher Lydon
    Thorpe stood with his hands balled at the small of his back, his eyes staring up at the clock of the Peace Tower. With Carter missing it was only a matter of hours until they were at war. It seemed somehow fitting that the skies were dark and oppressive that morning; a rumble of thunder crackled through the murky darkness, as the rain hammered relentlessly on the city, pouring off of the old clock and running in rivulets off of the gargoyles that chased away the evil spirits from the bui
  20. Topher Lydon
    Sunday came all too fast for Will's liking. The day before had been a manic rush that had him shaking hands and performing photo-ops with important British politicians eager to capitalize on his presence and his relationship to a true hero. Will's encounter with the British Prime Minister had been brief and limited to a handshake and a few exchanged words, before they had both been pulled aside by their respective aides and introduced to other important dignitaries. Brody seemed
  21. Topher Lydon
    Will opened his eyes, breathing heavily as he tried to move his injured arm; despite the pain he felt the fingers move. That was a good start, he surmised, even if it did hurt like hell--at least he could still move it. He rolled a bit to sit upright in the bunk, nearly jumping as he rolled up against warm skin, and through the gloom he peered down, recognizing West asleep beside him. There wasn't much room in the camper, and he could hear his grandfather snoring somewhere up in the fron
  22. Topher Lydon
    They all heard the shot ring out. Andrew flinched in his chair, a look of desperate shock on his face as he fought against his bonds, trying to get free, trying to get to Carter. His mind was flying through all the possibilities and he didn't like any of them. Johnson was moving like a shark towards the bank of elevators, his own gun out and in hand. "Watch him," Johnson commanded, pointing at Yani and gesturing to Andrew. The frightened young communication tech scrambled for his
  23. Topher Lydon
    Andrew took off his glasses, standing beside Jane watching through the window as the inspector received a thorough dressing-down by the American lawyer. "He's talking bullshit," he murmured, studying the lawyer as he gestured menacingly at the inspector. "Huh?" Jane asked; she'd been listening to the diatribe the lawyer was dishing out and it had sounded genuine to her. "He's citing cases and clauses that have no bearing..." Andrew said shaking his head. "He has no idea what he's
  24. Topher Lydon
    Marc sniffed, leaning up against the wall smoking a cigarette and squinting up at the sun through his pair of yellow-tinted ray bans. He had hundreds of things to do that day, trying to put his own life in order, but the sun was shining and he was downtown. It was one of those combinations that inevitably led to distraction. Not that it was too hot; it was more that the temperature was just right. One of those days that it seemed impossible to stay inside, or focused on anything except f
  25. Topher Lydon
    Retro-seventies, that era in decorating that Will was certain should have been carefully forgotten about and deliberately never discussed again. The den in Andrew's house hadn't changed either; the seventies lived--at least there--once again. There was the faux brick and wood in its garish patterns, the outdated furniture and the beanbag chairs. Will noted there was even a lava lamp for good effect, though he didn't comment on it. He just cradled his plate of pasta standing in the doorwa
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