"Oh," he said. "Steve." "Can I show you something?" she said, and stood up. She glanced up and down the carriage and turned her back to him. She lifte... up the back of her gold top. There was a flowery tattoo on the small of her back, partly covered by her skirt. "You see it?" "Mm," Steve managed to say, suddenly finding speech difficult. God, it was hot on this train. She tugged down on the skirt and revealed the whole tattoo, which stopped at the top of her ass. She was looking round at him. ‘They don’t live very long after what we are doing to him – not more than a year or two. They can’t cough and their lungs fill up with phlegm. It’s a sort of slow drowning.’ The leader’s London voice was blandly reassuring. ‘No problem. The job’s done by then. We’d better get on with it and get out of here before he comes to.’ Rotkoff felt he was descending into the pit of Hell. These three calm, dispassionate voices were frightening in a way no hate-filled cries or oaths would have been. They. More

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