The spies met at the corner of Drake Street just past the stained glass windows I always liked as a child. It seemed a shame this location would soon be linked with something so unpleasant, but killing is no game.

Unlucky passers bye, parked cars and the old masonry from the toy shop all crumbled under the impact of the explosion.

The morning newspapers were under orders not to disclose any details of the actual targets.

By that time I was on my next assignment, busy with details and transport routes.

Catching sight of a tv show in the hotel, I looked with regret at the report about Drake Street. Childhood nostalgia I know but I loved looking at the toys in the window and going inside with my Grandma.