Chapter 6
Perry's Story - part one
Shaun Perry's worth was a matter of considered opinion. In self-assessment, he regarded himself as being quite invaluable, although, in fairness, he was by nature neither vain nor arrogant. He was, however, naive enough to consider that an appointment within the Intelligence Department of The Rector's underground organisation was no more than an acknowledgment of his mental aptitude. It had come as something of a shock, therefore, to discern that it was necessary to do more than simply demonstrate intelligence - he was required to provide it.
He had been a straight A student. One of those particularly rare children who took a fastidious pleasure in scholarship. From an early age he had been applauded by his masters and, academically, had soon risen a number of levels above his peers in almost all subjects. Excluded, perhaps somewhat typically, from this manifest was the dreaded and most embarrassing of endurance rituals designated as Physical Education. At a very early age, he had enjoyed the playground rough and tumble as much as any of his classmates, for that was all that it was. Once he had moved on from primary school, however, the activities became structured into demonstrations of individual prowess (or otherwise) and the element of competition was inevitably introduced. He quickly developed a rather unhealthy fear of such unavoidably public displays of his ineptitude in this regard, and this somewhat self perpetuated the predicament. It was not that he was unable to run, or throw, or kick a ball - these were all activities that he had fond memories of from his younger years. A major contributing factor was, perhaps, his atypical build. He was slight of frame to the extent of being spindly, yet he was tall with it. This alone certainly didn't preclude him from athletic activities but, unfortunately, his unusual gangliness quickly led to him being the subject of other children's ridicule, both boys and girls and, most embarrassingly, children younger than himself who would normally take a wide berth around more senior pupils. As a result, he quickly descended into a spiralling lack of confidence, each enforced participation only serving to demonstrate his worryingly deteriorating co-ordination and ability, fueled by his escalating anxiety and his abhorrence of the increasingly difficult acts he was required to perform.
To his credit, however, he remained unaffected by the scornful jibes that he received as a result of his obvious prowess in academic subjects. His complete immersion in the particular subject matter provided him with a sort of immunity to the negativity of his peers. The fact that he was virtually friendless was immaterial when he could so easily lose himself amidst the subtle equations of higher mathematics. Potentially hurtful comments didn't even sink in, so wrapped up was he in the boundless revelations of physical and chemical sciences. He applied himself willingly to the humanities, fascinated as he was by both the relentless march of history and the effect that man and time itself had had upon the landscape of the world. Only the vagaries of art and music escaped him, although, knowing that there was a certain logic that could be applied to these, his progression was acceptable if not particularly stunning.
And then, after years of torment and ridicule, came his reward. As his school life came to an end, opportunities seemed to surround him. University was the obvious choice - he was thrilled by the mere thought that there could be a place where he could pursue the studies of his choice among like minded individuals, free of the spiteful mockery of those who saw in him nothing more than a lanky bespectacled geek.
There were no strong family ties to sever. His father worked away much of the time, the result of which was a comfortable position of which his mother took full advantage. The number of clubs and societies to which she belonged was seemingly endless, involving an ever increasing circle of so-called friends who met at various venues almost every day and night of the week for all sorts of pointless sounding activities. He had twin sisters, two years his junior, whose only aim was to raise the stakes higher and higher in a never-ending game of one-upmanship as to who could most closely emulate the behavioural patterns of their mother. They were miniature versions of her in every way, right down to hairstyle, make-up and jewellery. Their shrill, over excited voices reverberated around the house, growing more annoying by the hour until the point whereby their mother and her diminutive entourage would bustle out the front door in a crescendo, intent upon yet another shopping excursion, without even a goodbye shouted upstairs to where he had secreted himself in his room. He would certainly not be missed.
Cambridge beckoned. His results were quite possibly worthy of such a lofty establishment and his teachers encouraged him to aim high. For him, school life had been a fairly miserable experience - to them, he was their success story, the realisation of an aim that many of them had perhaps given up long ago - the mentoring of a star pupil. University was all he had hoped for and more. He applied himself with alacrity to his favoured disciplines of mathematics and physics and yet, unsuspectingly, it was in the supplementary subject of computing and information technology that he found himself most comfortable and, to his great surprise, quickly developed a number of friendships with individuals who were both welcoming and uncomplicated. Their approach to life was linear in nature, seemingly unencumbered by the hassles and entanglements that he had grown up with himself - had come to expect. He recognised that he was no longer held back and found himself embracing and revelling in a simple lifestyle that consisted of work that he found enjoyable and leisure time amongst people with whom he could relax and, after so many years, learn to simply be himself. Foremost amongst these new and wonderful acquaintances was Joel, a Londoner from a disadvantaged background who had been the recipient of a much sought after scholarship after demonstrating a particular adeptness at computer programming and software development. They had little more in common than their mutual interest, and yet this was enough. Late into the night they would work, not only on the tasks and challenges of their educational syllabus, but on their own pet projects and dreams. The only complication, if it could even be viewed as such, was the fact that Joel was in the year above his own and hence there was some minor disparity in their individual situations.
The flurry of activity within the bunker that night came as a surprise to Perry. In his relatively short time there, he had quickly identified The Rector's insistence that each operation, no matter its size or importance, be conducted with a decisiveness and a thoroughness that bordered upon the obsessive. He was on duty within the surveillance room and, as a matter of course, he monitored the fleet of vehicles as they swung out of the tunnel that wound down from the concealed and fortified entrance and into the cavernous staging area that they referred to as the Hall. He was surprised by the arrival of the battered blue transit van, but assumed that it was simply a component part of the evening's agenda. His attention was then drawn to the sudden arrival of Mendelsson within the Hall. He bustled through a pair of steel clad doors, wheeling about to hold them ajar whilst he ushered through a gaggle of random personnel who were maneuvering a number of crash carts. They hurried across the smooth painted floor of the Hall to rendezvous with the cars and the van which by now had come to a halt in a haphazard arrangement at the centre of the huge chamber. The Rector came into view from behind the van, out of which he must have just emerged. Perry saw him beckon urgently and the doctor, together with a couple of men and one of the carts, hurried towards him. Perry was mesmerised by the unfolding scene. It was so unusual for The Rector's activities to result in casualties which was, perhaps, one of the reasons why his employees remained so fiercely loyal - the level of planning that went into every operation, together with the precision with which each one was executed, engendered a common perception that they were part of an elite team. Only on one other occasion since Perry's arrival had things not gone to plan - a single man had paid the price that day, as a result of which the responsibility for the security and computer systems element of the organisation had fallen into his own lap.
There was considerable activity at the rear of the van and it was only then that Perry thought about switching to a different camera that would provide him with a better view of proceedings. His actions, he reminded himself, were not voyeuristic but rather an essential and important task. As secure as they might all consider themselves within this vast and extensive underground complex, it was his own alertness and attention to detail at a time such as this that was required. If something unexpected or threatening was to occur it would be his responsibility to sound the alarm. He switched to camera four which provided him with a view from above the tunnel down at the rear of the van. The cart had been drawn up to the open rear doors and a large number of men were carefully, and with some considerable difficulty, manhandling a bulky object out of the van and onto the cart. What the object was, Perry could not tell for it was draped with a large white sheet, stained with what he surmised could possibly be blood. His first thought was that it was a body, yet it was far too large for that. Two bodies maybe, or three? No, the way in which it was being conveyed suggested to him that it was a singular something. Eventually it was deposited onto the cart and four men were tasked with wheeling it away, which affirmed that whatever it was it was as heavy as it was large and unwieldy. As they manfully maneuvered the cart back in the direction from whence it had come, Perry could make out a couple of oddly shaped grey appendages that hung exposed beneath the hem of the sheet. He had seen some bizarre and experimental tech brought in by The Rector, but what on earth this object was Perry could not begin to imagine.
The door into the surveillance room swung open and Carter and Kwon walked in and crowded around Perry to get a look at the monitors. They had obviously picked up on the hubbub that would have quickly spread throughout the upper level and, being junior members of the organisation, knew that this was as close as they were going to get to the action for the time being.
"Steiner's had everyone confined to quarters," Carter said.
"Not everyone," Kwon reminded him, "just 'non-essential personnel'" - this last in his best, but still quite appalling, German accent.
Perry stood up and stretched. "Well," he said, "consider yourselves confined here, if you like. You've just relieved me." And with that he turned and headed for the door. Carter looked at Kwon and shrugged his shoulders. Might as well be here as anywhere. At least they could keep an eye on developments.
Once in the corridor Perry thought better of heading to the Hall. There would still be folks milling around there, but not the types who would be predisposed to fill him in on the details of the night's activities. He had just decided upon a cup of tea in his own room when the bulky figure of Serge, The Rector's faithful driver, came around the corner.
Serge was a loner, as Perry himself was of late, and hence didn't find it necessary to strike up friendships - not within the Rectory anyway. Perry usually tried to avoid one-on-one situations with Serge, as neither of them had anything to say to each other and Perry sensed that if he were to make any effort to do so it would be received with derision. On this occasion, however, the burly man was not quite so reticent.
"What are you doing hanging around here, Perry?" he whispered, as if in danger of being overheard, even though there was not another soul in proximity. "You're meant to be in your quarters."
"It's not normally this hush-hush, Serge," Perry said, knowing it to be a vain attempt at coaxing information from the tight lipped man, "anything the matter?"
"Nothing for you to worry about," Serge said dismissively, "it's on a need to know basis, and you don't. Now get out of here before Steiner catches up with you."
"Okay," Perry conceded, holding his hands aloft, "I'm out of here."
And, with that, he turned and set off in the direction of the stairs to the accommodation level where his quarters, together with those of all auxiliary ranks, were situated.
In retrospect it had all happened so quickly. Things certainly weren't as interesting once Joel had left, but Perry was now part of an established social circle and hence was not bereft of friends. Joel had departed with the promise of keeping in touch and he had not failed to deliver on this. There were e-mails aplenty and the occasional phone call, but his friend was always extremely vague when it came to matters of his employment. He would merely say that he was working for a friend of a friend and that it was no more than a stop-gap which just happened to pay extremely well and would soon allow him to settle his student debt.
And so, therefore, it came as something of a shock when Joel telephoned him out of the blue one rainy Wednesday afternoon near to the end of term and offered him a job.
"But you said it wasn't anything important," Perry remonstrated, "nothing interesting. Why would I want to get involved with something like that?"
"Look, Shaun," Joel replied, "I can't say too much, but what I'm doing is far from unimportant and most definitely never boring. There are opportunities within this firm, amazing opportunities, for both of us. It's exactly the kind of thing I've always dreamed of doing, but it is hard work and there's lots of it."
"And that's where I'd come in?"
"Absolutely," Joel replied. "Listen, I've already had a word with the main man. I've mentioned you to him and he said that, as long as I can vouch for you as being totally trustworthy, you're in. He knows how much I need another pair of hands down here."
"What do you mean 'down here'? You make it sound like I'm up in Scotland or something!"
Joel hesitated momentarily, "Er, yeah, slip of the tongue, I suppose. So, what do you say. Will you give it a go?"
Perry pondered his options. He wanted to remain at university for another year at least, it was all going so well. But he knew there was the possibility of taking a gap year. Many of his peers had already done it and come back to pick things up exactly where they'd left off, just a little older and wiser.
"I'll tell you what," he said, "I'll take a look, say Friday or next Monday, and if it ticks all the boxes I'll give it a go. I can't say fairer than that, can I?"
Joel paused for a couple of seconds before responding. "Shaun, I'm asking you to trust me on this. You see, I need an answer now, one way or the other. What we're doing here, well, let's just say it's sensitive, okay. Once you're in, you're in, if you know what I mean."
"That all sounds a bit worrying, Joel. You haven't got yourself involved in anything dangerous, have you?"
"Oh, come on, Shaun!" Joel laughed, "do you really think I'd be asking you to join me if it was anything like that? Honestly, it's the best thing I ever did, and it can be for you, too. It's the chance of a lifetime, and I may not be in a position to offer it to you again."
Perry surveyed his surroundings, the stark magnolia walls of his room, his PC on the wooden desk before the window and the rumpled quilt on the bed against the far wall. It was what he had come to think of as home but, he had to admit, it didn't really amount to much. Perhaps it was time he got out there in the real world and started to make a difference.
"Joel," Perry asked, "are you sure that this is something where I can really apply myself? You know, use my skills, my knowledge?"
"Absolutely," his friend reassured him, "it's right up your street. You'll love it, I promise."
"Okay, I'll do it. Give me a week to sort things out here and I'll be with you."
"That's great Shaun. You've definitely made the right decision. I'll call you again next week and give you some details. Arrange somewhere to pick you up."
"Alright, and listen, Joel, I didn't mean to sound ungrateful. Thanks for thinking of me, yeah?"
Joel laughed once more, "hey, no problem mate, what are friends for? Look, I've got to go. Speak to you soon."
"Okay, bye, and thanks again."
Perry, stood up and stretched, invigorated, gladdened to know that he had made a decision which could move his life in a forwards direction. And he had his friend to thank for it. He was already looking forward to working with him again.
One month later, Joel was dead.
He had been a straight A student. One of those particularly rare children who took a fastidious pleasure in scholarship. From an early age he had been applauded by his masters and, academically, had soon risen a number of levels above his peers in almost all subjects. Excluded, perhaps somewhat typically, from this manifest was the dreaded and most embarrassing of endurance rituals designated as Physical Education. At a very early age, he had enjoyed the playground rough and tumble as much as any of his classmates, for that was all that it was. Once he had moved on from primary school, however, the activities became structured into demonstrations of individual prowess (or otherwise) and the element of competition was inevitably introduced. He quickly developed a rather unhealthy fear of such unavoidably public displays of his ineptitude in this regard, and this somewhat self perpetuated the predicament. It was not that he was unable to run, or throw, or kick a ball - these were all activities that he had fond memories of from his younger years. A major contributing factor was, perhaps, his atypical build. He was slight of frame to the extent of being spindly, yet he was tall with it. This alone certainly didn't preclude him from athletic activities but, unfortunately, his unusual gangliness quickly led to him being the subject of other children's ridicule, both boys and girls and, most embarrassingly, children younger than himself who would normally take a wide berth around more senior pupils. As a result, he quickly descended into a spiralling lack of confidence, each enforced participation only serving to demonstrate his worryingly deteriorating co-ordination and ability, fueled by his escalating anxiety and his abhorrence of the increasingly difficult acts he was required to perform.
To his credit, however, he remained unaffected by the scornful jibes that he received as a result of his obvious prowess in academic subjects. His complete immersion in the particular subject matter provided him with a sort of immunity to the negativity of his peers. The fact that he was virtually friendless was immaterial when he could so easily lose himself amidst the subtle equations of higher mathematics. Potentially hurtful comments didn't even sink in, so wrapped up was he in the boundless revelations of physical and chemical sciences. He applied himself willingly to the humanities, fascinated as he was by both the relentless march of history and the effect that man and time itself had had upon the landscape of the world. Only the vagaries of art and music escaped him, although, knowing that there was a certain logic that could be applied to these, his progression was acceptable if not particularly stunning.
And then, after years of torment and ridicule, came his reward. As his school life came to an end, opportunities seemed to surround him. University was the obvious choice - he was thrilled by the mere thought that there could be a place where he could pursue the studies of his choice among like minded individuals, free of the spiteful mockery of those who saw in him nothing more than a lanky bespectacled geek.
There were no strong family ties to sever. His father worked away much of the time, the result of which was a comfortable position of which his mother took full advantage. The number of clubs and societies to which she belonged was seemingly endless, involving an ever increasing circle of so-called friends who met at various venues almost every day and night of the week for all sorts of pointless sounding activities. He had twin sisters, two years his junior, whose only aim was to raise the stakes higher and higher in a never-ending game of one-upmanship as to who could most closely emulate the behavioural patterns of their mother. They were miniature versions of her in every way, right down to hairstyle, make-up and jewellery. Their shrill, over excited voices reverberated around the house, growing more annoying by the hour until the point whereby their mother and her diminutive entourage would bustle out the front door in a crescendo, intent upon yet another shopping excursion, without even a goodbye shouted upstairs to where he had secreted himself in his room. He would certainly not be missed.
Cambridge beckoned. His results were quite possibly worthy of such a lofty establishment and his teachers encouraged him to aim high. For him, school life had been a fairly miserable experience - to them, he was their success story, the realisation of an aim that many of them had perhaps given up long ago - the mentoring of a star pupil. University was all he had hoped for and more. He applied himself with alacrity to his favoured disciplines of mathematics and physics and yet, unsuspectingly, it was in the supplementary subject of computing and information technology that he found himself most comfortable and, to his great surprise, quickly developed a number of friendships with individuals who were both welcoming and uncomplicated. Their approach to life was linear in nature, seemingly unencumbered by the hassles and entanglements that he had grown up with himself - had come to expect. He recognised that he was no longer held back and found himself embracing and revelling in a simple lifestyle that consisted of work that he found enjoyable and leisure time amongst people with whom he could relax and, after so many years, learn to simply be himself. Foremost amongst these new and wonderful acquaintances was Joel, a Londoner from a disadvantaged background who had been the recipient of a much sought after scholarship after demonstrating a particular adeptness at computer programming and software development. They had little more in common than their mutual interest, and yet this was enough. Late into the night they would work, not only on the tasks and challenges of their educational syllabus, but on their own pet projects and dreams. The only complication, if it could even be viewed as such, was the fact that Joel was in the year above his own and hence there was some minor disparity in their individual situations.
The flurry of activity within the bunker that night came as a surprise to Perry. In his relatively short time there, he had quickly identified The Rector's insistence that each operation, no matter its size or importance, be conducted with a decisiveness and a thoroughness that bordered upon the obsessive. He was on duty within the surveillance room and, as a matter of course, he monitored the fleet of vehicles as they swung out of the tunnel that wound down from the concealed and fortified entrance and into the cavernous staging area that they referred to as the Hall. He was surprised by the arrival of the battered blue transit van, but assumed that it was simply a component part of the evening's agenda. His attention was then drawn to the sudden arrival of Mendelsson within the Hall. He bustled through a pair of steel clad doors, wheeling about to hold them ajar whilst he ushered through a gaggle of random personnel who were maneuvering a number of crash carts. They hurried across the smooth painted floor of the Hall to rendezvous with the cars and the van which by now had come to a halt in a haphazard arrangement at the centre of the huge chamber. The Rector came into view from behind the van, out of which he must have just emerged. Perry saw him beckon urgently and the doctor, together with a couple of men and one of the carts, hurried towards him. Perry was mesmerised by the unfolding scene. It was so unusual for The Rector's activities to result in casualties which was, perhaps, one of the reasons why his employees remained so fiercely loyal - the level of planning that went into every operation, together with the precision with which each one was executed, engendered a common perception that they were part of an elite team. Only on one other occasion since Perry's arrival had things not gone to plan - a single man had paid the price that day, as a result of which the responsibility for the security and computer systems element of the organisation had fallen into his own lap.
There was considerable activity at the rear of the van and it was only then that Perry thought about switching to a different camera that would provide him with a better view of proceedings. His actions, he reminded himself, were not voyeuristic but rather an essential and important task. As secure as they might all consider themselves within this vast and extensive underground complex, it was his own alertness and attention to detail at a time such as this that was required. If something unexpected or threatening was to occur it would be his responsibility to sound the alarm. He switched to camera four which provided him with a view from above the tunnel down at the rear of the van. The cart had been drawn up to the open rear doors and a large number of men were carefully, and with some considerable difficulty, manhandling a bulky object out of the van and onto the cart. What the object was, Perry could not tell for it was draped with a large white sheet, stained with what he surmised could possibly be blood. His first thought was that it was a body, yet it was far too large for that. Two bodies maybe, or three? No, the way in which it was being conveyed suggested to him that it was a singular something. Eventually it was deposited onto the cart and four men were tasked with wheeling it away, which affirmed that whatever it was it was as heavy as it was large and unwieldy. As they manfully maneuvered the cart back in the direction from whence it had come, Perry could make out a couple of oddly shaped grey appendages that hung exposed beneath the hem of the sheet. He had seen some bizarre and experimental tech brought in by The Rector, but what on earth this object was Perry could not begin to imagine.
The door into the surveillance room swung open and Carter and Kwon walked in and crowded around Perry to get a look at the monitors. They had obviously picked up on the hubbub that would have quickly spread throughout the upper level and, being junior members of the organisation, knew that this was as close as they were going to get to the action for the time being.
"Steiner's had everyone confined to quarters," Carter said.
"Not everyone," Kwon reminded him, "just 'non-essential personnel'" - this last in his best, but still quite appalling, German accent.
Perry stood up and stretched. "Well," he said, "consider yourselves confined here, if you like. You've just relieved me." And with that he turned and headed for the door. Carter looked at Kwon and shrugged his shoulders. Might as well be here as anywhere. At least they could keep an eye on developments.
Once in the corridor Perry thought better of heading to the Hall. There would still be folks milling around there, but not the types who would be predisposed to fill him in on the details of the night's activities. He had just decided upon a cup of tea in his own room when the bulky figure of Serge, The Rector's faithful driver, came around the corner.
Serge was a loner, as Perry himself was of late, and hence didn't find it necessary to strike up friendships - not within the Rectory anyway. Perry usually tried to avoid one-on-one situations with Serge, as neither of them had anything to say to each other and Perry sensed that if he were to make any effort to do so it would be received with derision. On this occasion, however, the burly man was not quite so reticent.
"What are you doing hanging around here, Perry?" he whispered, as if in danger of being overheard, even though there was not another soul in proximity. "You're meant to be in your quarters."
"It's not normally this hush-hush, Serge," Perry said, knowing it to be a vain attempt at coaxing information from the tight lipped man, "anything the matter?"
"Nothing for you to worry about," Serge said dismissively, "it's on a need to know basis, and you don't. Now get out of here before Steiner catches up with you."
"Okay," Perry conceded, holding his hands aloft, "I'm out of here."
And, with that, he turned and set off in the direction of the stairs to the accommodation level where his quarters, together with those of all auxiliary ranks, were situated.
In retrospect it had all happened so quickly. Things certainly weren't as interesting once Joel had left, but Perry was now part of an established social circle and hence was not bereft of friends. Joel had departed with the promise of keeping in touch and he had not failed to deliver on this. There were e-mails aplenty and the occasional phone call, but his friend was always extremely vague when it came to matters of his employment. He would merely say that he was working for a friend of a friend and that it was no more than a stop-gap which just happened to pay extremely well and would soon allow him to settle his student debt.
And so, therefore, it came as something of a shock when Joel telephoned him out of the blue one rainy Wednesday afternoon near to the end of term and offered him a job.
"But you said it wasn't anything important," Perry remonstrated, "nothing interesting. Why would I want to get involved with something like that?"
"Look, Shaun," Joel replied, "I can't say too much, but what I'm doing is far from unimportant and most definitely never boring. There are opportunities within this firm, amazing opportunities, for both of us. It's exactly the kind of thing I've always dreamed of doing, but it is hard work and there's lots of it."
"And that's where I'd come in?"
"Absolutely," Joel replied. "Listen, I've already had a word with the main man. I've mentioned you to him and he said that, as long as I can vouch for you as being totally trustworthy, you're in. He knows how much I need another pair of hands down here."
"What do you mean 'down here'? You make it sound like I'm up in Scotland or something!"
Joel hesitated momentarily, "Er, yeah, slip of the tongue, I suppose. So, what do you say. Will you give it a go?"
Perry pondered his options. He wanted to remain at university for another year at least, it was all going so well. But he knew there was the possibility of taking a gap year. Many of his peers had already done it and come back to pick things up exactly where they'd left off, just a little older and wiser.
"I'll tell you what," he said, "I'll take a look, say Friday or next Monday, and if it ticks all the boxes I'll give it a go. I can't say fairer than that, can I?"
Joel paused for a couple of seconds before responding. "Shaun, I'm asking you to trust me on this. You see, I need an answer now, one way or the other. What we're doing here, well, let's just say it's sensitive, okay. Once you're in, you're in, if you know what I mean."
"That all sounds a bit worrying, Joel. You haven't got yourself involved in anything dangerous, have you?"
"Oh, come on, Shaun!" Joel laughed, "do you really think I'd be asking you to join me if it was anything like that? Honestly, it's the best thing I ever did, and it can be for you, too. It's the chance of a lifetime, and I may not be in a position to offer it to you again."
Perry surveyed his surroundings, the stark magnolia walls of his room, his PC on the wooden desk before the window and the rumpled quilt on the bed against the far wall. It was what he had come to think of as home but, he had to admit, it didn't really amount to much. Perhaps it was time he got out there in the real world and started to make a difference.
"Joel," Perry asked, "are you sure that this is something where I can really apply myself? You know, use my skills, my knowledge?"
"Absolutely," his friend reassured him, "it's right up your street. You'll love it, I promise."
"Okay, I'll do it. Give me a week to sort things out here and I'll be with you."
"That's great Shaun. You've definitely made the right decision. I'll call you again next week and give you some details. Arrange somewhere to pick you up."
"Alright, and listen, Joel, I didn't mean to sound ungrateful. Thanks for thinking of me, yeah?"
Joel laughed once more, "hey, no problem mate, what are friends for? Look, I've got to go. Speak to you soon."
"Okay, bye, and thanks again."
Perry, stood up and stretched, invigorated, gladdened to know that he had made a decision which could move his life in a forwards direction. And he had his friend to thank for it. He was already looking forward to working with him again.
One month later, Joel was dead.