Topher Lydon
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you can't keep a good Giraffe down
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Chapter 17: Sanctuary and the Standoff The taxi ride was a blur of fear and motion. Alex paid the driver with a handful of crumpled, high-denomination cash, shoving Julian out of the car and dragging him toward the inconspicuous utility entrance of the executive rental. The cold air felt like a physical weight, pressing down on the fresh chaos clinging to Alex’s borrowed clothes and bruised body. He keyed the biometric lock, the heavy steel door hissing open. The sound was a welcome,
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No no, it's fine. My job as a writer is to close plot holes and questions like this. I do get moved on quickly in a serialization like this, to the next chapters, so going back is often difficult, to close holes.
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Sorry I thought it was clear, Jane was not captured. She was... um... left under the mud. CSIS does know, and is aware, Andrew references this situation in a later chapter. The envelope was the contents of the Rawlins adoption file, it was on the wall in chapter two. Since the information was illegally obtained, it would have to be kept out of the RCMP hands. Thus Yani in that scene. Will's reaction is... surpressed, heavilly, another rather longer and brutal chapter will address this. Will is locked with guilt on it, but I believe it's held back, for now, until he comes face to face with Ned. The first person to meet Ned will be Peter, but we have a way to go before then. So enjoy, right now Will's got to deal with the crisis first.
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yani vs Yuri
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triage was given, but death occoured. only one survivor
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Chapter Six WORLD END: T-minus 140 days, 17 hours, 0 minutes GATINEAU HILLS - Capital Region - Quebec It was an Isolated fishing cabin, heavily wooded slopes of the Gatineau Hills, Ottawa River Valley. Pre-dawn. Ambient temperature +2∘C. Damp, low-lying mist and heavy frost. The air was a blade of cold silence, broken only by the rhythmic, low-frequency hum of wind cutting across the high ridges. In the tight, dark cluster of pines three hundred meters south of the targe
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Those two finally got married, and are both as formidable together as ever. West and Peter are a love story I simply adore, they're favourites of mine.
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Come get some if you think you're tough enough to take the Giraffe!
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Chapter 16: The Terminal Intercept The utilitarian bustle of the bus terminal instantly dissolved into a silent, focused theater of war. The light, noise, and constant flow of travelers—all vanished from Alex’s perception. His focus was entirely on Julian Lawson, who had stumbled back against a concrete pillar, his face pale and frozen in a silent scream. Julian's terror was a mirror of the threat: two colossal figures, the Harvest Guard, were moving with grim, measured strides toward him f
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I do enjoy writing Peter.
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Chapter Five WORLD END: T-minus 140 days, 0 hours, and 27 minutes 24 Sussex Drive, Security Bunker The panic room was small, sound-dampened, and suffocatingly quiet. It was late, and the boys had finally succumbed to exhaustion, curled up together on the padded bench, seeking warmth and security in the presence of the Prime Minister. Tommy was nestled between Jacob and Will, with Weston draped over Will’s far side. Will sat motionless, a rock in the storm, the center
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Go #TeamBrian!
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The cedar forest swallowed them whole. The CRUNCH of the Rhino slamming into the mangled shell of the AMG was the final, sickening sound of their former life breaking away—a brutal full stop that left behind only the deafening, wild silence of the Canadian winter. Alex ran on a fading reservoir of pure adrenaline, but his pace was short, erratic, and utterly compromised. His expensive, bespoke coat was a sodden sponge, useless against the deep, wet snow, which swallowed his feet up to
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Brian's got this one, no one more capable in the snow than our resident Arctic Giraffe ninja!
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Chapter Four WORLD END: T-minus 140 days, 4 hours, and 17 minutes Ottawa River, Outside Ottawa, Ontario The Ottawa River was a canvas of solemn, late-October beauty. The air was crisp, carrying the metallic scent of cold water and the earthy decay of fallen leaves. The trees lining the shore were a final, desperate riot of color—maples bleeding crimson, golds fading to rust—a fitting backdrop for the passing of an old political guard. The water, choppy and pewter-grey, r
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