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Topher Lydon

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  1. 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
  2. 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
  3. 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
  4. 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..
  5. 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,
  6. 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
  7. 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
  8. 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
  9. 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
  10. 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
  11. 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
  12. 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
  13. 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
  14. 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
  15. Topher Lydon
    Will awoke with a start, blinking at the unfamiliar surroundings as he rubbed his eyes. He disengaged himself from Andrew's arms, getting up and stretching as he walked to the window and peered outside. Another beautiful summer day was dawning, the sun turning the sky a shade of burnt amber as it struggled to rise above the horizon. Will stood there staring out at it, his eyes taking in the panorama as he held the net curtain back. It was a new day, Sunday morning. The day after yesterda
  16. Topher Lydon
    Andrew was like a shadow, an intimidating presence backing Will up as he walked through the throng of cameras each trying to throw a hail of questions at the MP. They were trying to get a grasp over what was happening, an idea from the only Liberal politician bold enough to show his face at Parliament Hill that Sunday. Will stopped on one of the broad steps and looked about him at the cameras and microphones pointing at him, and he took a deep breath. "I'm sure you all have a great numbe
  17. Topher Lydon
    Blake nudged him awake, holding a cup of coffee, and Marc accepted it gratefully. He shook his head as he scrutinized his surroundings. Blake's apartment was comfortable, if poky. It sat overtop of a kitchen appliance store and had once been used as offices until someone had the bright idea of converting it into a loft apartment. It was very Blake--the large life-sized cutouts of comic book characters, and the racks and racks of his prized collection attested to the guy's obsession. But
  18. Topher Lydon
    The Mustang rolled to a stop behind the newly returned BMW sitting patiently in Will's driveway. And Will leaned forward on the steering wheel, looking down the row of houses towards Lisa's house where his Jeep was sitting tucked alongside Jeff's truck. Seeing the BMW made Will think of Marc, probably waiting inside, and Will sat back heavily into the bucket seat, staring up at the dark house. Andrew was quiet as well, lost to his own thoughts, occasionally wincing in pain in the passeng
  19. Topher Lydon
    Andrew sat quietly in the outer office. It was drawing late; Carter had been running himself ragged all day, trying to come up with a solution to what was to come the next day. And through it all Andrew had kept himself quietly in the background, keeping his eyes open for any sign of trouble. Alicia passed him, stopping to pass him a cup of Tim Horton's coffee. She flashed him one of her patented smiles as she bobbed off to bring her boss his extra-large double-double. Andrew sig
  20. Topher Lydon
    "Dark skies loom over the House of Commons as thunderclouds gather inside. A political storm looks set to blow the Thorpe Liberal Government out of office and straight out of the front doors of Parliament on their first day in office." Will folded the newspaper and looked over the rims of his glasses across the breakfast bar at Lisa. "Great..." he murmured, "day one and we're already in trouble." "You knew that going into this," Lisa replied to him, peeling the top off of a muffi
  21. Topher Lydon
    Will adjusted his tie as he walked into the House of Commons; there was a heavy air of anticipation in the chamber as he walked along the length of seats, nodding respectfully to the Leader of the New Democrats, a matter of professional courtesy as they seemed to share many of the same agendas. "Mister Carter," the Party Leader greeted him warmly, coming down and shaking his hand, glancing around the floor of the house to ensure that everyone was clearly watching him court the young Libe
  22. Topher Lydon
    "We've lost him," the DG admitted, standing and resting his elbows on the partition to Andrew's cubicle, looking down at his two field officers. "What do the CIA claim?" Andrew asked, setting his pen down and glancing up at the DG expectantly. "Considering we have little to no proof connecting Johnson to the kidnapping, or the death of the Deputy Prime Minister, my superiors have decided to avoid an international incident." The Director General was unimpressed with his superiors'
  23. Topher Lydon
    Will had stepped outside the police station, aware of the throng of press that were sitting waiting for news, any news, about the missing kids. Gathered like waiting vultures descending on any opportunity they saw, crowding around the MP that had dared to step outside alone, asking him a flurry of questions, jostling each other in a throng to get a sound bite for the evening news. Will wasn't in the mood for them, and the dark look on his face as he walked purposefully through the crowd,
  24. Topher Lydon
    Andrew stared at his watch as he jogged through the airport to where Jane was waiting with the car. He was cutting it close and they only had about half an hour to get downtown before the bar closed. He had left Will's almost two hours before, hopping an emergency flight from Toronto to Ottawa to be a part of the investigation. Will was safe for the time being and Andrew knew that the trail to finding Peter was getting cold; the crucial forty-eight hours after the deed were half over, an
  25. Topher Lydon
    Tyler was on the overnight shift. The small 7/11 was tucked down by the St. Patrick's bridge in the Sandy Hill area. It was just remote enough that he seldom got anyone in at that late at night, mostly just students from the Ottawa University campus that was about a block away who were getting home from the bars and looking for snack food or the other assorted overpriced crap he sold. He was sitting behind the counter reading; there was little else to do. He had gone past the late night
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