The Second Man was there, watching me. I could see in his eyes he would have offered help if he could, but none could touch me while I was in communio....I had fallen off the chair, crumpled in the corner in a pool of my own piss and excrement."Love me." I whispered. The Second Man nodded and approached the bed.I could feel her ghost shift. She was rootless now that I had experienced--and accepted the burden of her death. She was a blank slate, ready for her final experience. Like all dead, she. Finally, someone suggested, using her in honey trap situations, where they needed a foreign diplomat, to be caught in a compromising situation, so that could be blackmailed for information. This was put to Gwen, and after thinking about it for all of ten seconds, agreed. She was set up in a nice flat in the west end of London, her cover story was that she was a high-class call girl.To keep up the cover, she was provided with business cards, and once a week, one or other of the male officers,. More

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