bury me in my boots

Charlie was back with Mr Edwards, in the room he had been in days before, but now Mr Edwards was looking a little under the weather. Charlie had noticed this happened with most of his “clients” after they’d been in the system for a while. He didn’t want to know what happened to them, but he knew that after a few days they became far less objectionable to his questions.

Questioning Mr Edwards however, was far from the forefront of Charlie’s mind. Between the diaries of his great great grandfather and the files his boss just dumped in his lap about his grandfather. He was spending most of his conscious brain cycles pondering on how his newly discovered forebears seemed so capable of getting into trouble and why this was all coming to light now, right when things were going well.

It was beginning to impact his reputation at the agency. Previously he was able to coast along, doing the bare minimum, living on the coattails of his father. Now it seemed other reputations were crystalising around him and it was starting to make his position tenuous, which even he could see was not a great position to be in.

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