10th June, evening [Private] I feel so hollow. I'm running out of emotion. And whiskey. And patience. Are we just supposed to sit here, hands bound with inaction, while they pick us off for having the temerity to do our jobs? Every time I see a black armband I want to scream at someone. At Crouch, at Trimble. We should be taking the world apart, no fucking stone unturned, and stamping them out like the cockroaches they are. Why won't someone do something?
I've never before been glad I drove Kieran away that Kieran left, but I am now. Australia's safe. I wish I could convince Tabitha to join him, but Scotland will have to do. Surely she'll be safe with the Macfusties.