Thank you for coming to westonreserve.org The website is being built now westonreserve.org was created: August 14 2012 18:35:17. Today Wednesday 19 June 2013 12:07:08 I would know if she suspected anything. I watched her scan the tree line, uphill and then back down again, toward me. As her eyes approached my OP I moved mine out of contact. I couldn't look at her. A sixth sense can sometimes let you know when you're being looked at, and I didn't want to take the chance. I knew I was doing the wrong thing. Even if her plan was not to react to anything she saw, but to go back into the house, then return with an automatic weapon to hose down the area, I knew her well enough to see it in her eyes. I could feel sweat running around the back of my legs and neck. I waited three or four seconds more, then moved my eyes up again. She was finishing off her scan, past me and down to the lake. Once there, she quickly turned her head to the wagon and walked up to the passenger door. A white guy clambered out. By his style of dress I would say he was American. He was wearing a black nylon bomber jacket, tight blue jeans and white trainers. He was above-average height and build, about midthirties with black, fairly long, curly hair, and a mustache like the sheriff's in the Bugs Bunny cartoons. He looked good enough to be the hunky lumberjack in any soap. The meeting with Sarah was intimate: they hugged, kissed each other on the mouth, then held the embrace. They spoke in low voices as Sarah ran her hand across his back. There was something odd going on, though. They looked pleased to see each other, but the talking wasn't loud and they weren't going overboard. I got two pictures of them during the thirty or so seconds that they were together. Too Thin To Win had the tailgate down on the Explorer. He was looking quite smart in jeans and a dark checkered jacket. He pulled out a brown suit carrier with an airline tag on the handle. Sarah had disappeared inside the garage with the white guy, followed by Too Thin To Win, who closed the door behind them. It was time to send another sit rep. had just started to prepare my message when Too Thin To Win emerged from the side door with MIB. He, too, had had a shit, shower and shave, and was dressed a lot smarter in brown trousers and jacket. They both got into the Explorer, Too Thin To Win in the driver's seat. The wagon backed around to point uphill. They weren't talking to each other, smiling, or looking at all happy. Something was happening. The 4x4 bumped along the track and disappeared from sight. I looked back at the house. All the windows and doors were closed, and so were the curtains. That was strange; if someone was arriving at such a nice spot, surely you would show him the view? Maybe she had better things to do with him. Maybe he was just another sucker that she was using. But for what exactly? It was nearly two hours before the Explorer returned. There were bodies in the back, but I couldn't work out how many as it turned downhill, my eyes nicking between the wagon and the side door of the house, waiting for it to open. When it did, it was the American who appeared. Sarah was nowhere to be seen. He was looking aware, checking the lake and, as MIB had done, playing with worry beads. I watched him, listening to the slow rumble of tires past my OP. His denim shirttails were hanging out of his jeans and showing below his bomber jacket. I was right, he and Sarah did have better things to do than look at the scenery. The wagon stopped and I counted an additional two heads in the rear seats. All four got out and I pressed the cable release. The two newcomers were both dark-skinned. They hugged and kissed the American on both cheeks. It looked as if they knew him pretty well. All the same, there were no loud shouts of welcome or smiles, and everyone spoke in a murmur I couldn't understand. The meeting also seemed to have an air of relief about it. Too Thin To Win and MIB had opened the tailgate and were pulling out two square aluminium boxes that were plastered with what looked like old and torn "Fragile" stickers and airline security tape. They started to move the boxes inside the garage via the side door. The luggage area of the 4x4 was still full of sports bags, another suit carrier and a black plastic cylinder that stretched from the back seat to the gear shift at the front. It was about two meters long and covered at each end. Either it was the world's biggest poster tube or they had some serious fishing rods with them I didn't think. One of the new guys motioned to the other one and the American to give him a hand. © ISPmanager licensed