Remember Roger, the old friend that sent our hero on a mission? Chapter 3 catches up with him as he’s trying to escape from the ones from whom he stole the secret of the 13th Power.
Panting heavily in the alleyway and not noticing the little girl looking out her window, Roger Stevenson’s feet rhythmically pounded the pavement beneath his feet. He was on the run from not one team but two. Roger knew his chances were getting slimmer by the day. The NSB wanted him, as well as the former RSB and Interpol. The people chasing him weren’t officials. Officials didn’t shoot first and ask questions later, which was what these men and two women had been doing across three countries.
Roger rounded a corner and rushed across an old street paved with bricks. He was in East London, an area known for people coming to hide out and as a wretched place filled with scum and villainy. Roger hid there for a week before daring to step outdoors. When he did, it was to look for somewhere he could get a message sent to his old partner. Roger worried about sending Cherie the package. He questioned, ‘Have I put her in the middle of this?’
There, he thought, an open door. Roger disappeared into the back entrance of a kitchen, and an incredible odor wafted around him, reminding Roger he hadn’t eaten a decent meal in days. Roger ran past the chef’s station. He was in a restaurant in East London.
As Roger ran past the chef’s area, a primo-cut of meat sat on the chef’s station. The dish was done and waiting on someone to deliver it to a customer. Roger grabbed the steak and continued running through the restaurant. He took that first bite, the one that’s as if you’ve never eaten anything before. Roger would have felt bad about stealing the steak. It was so good that he was giddy about it and yelled back at the kitchen staff as he tore through the restaurant.
“My compliments to the chef!”
Roger made it outside and across the street without getting hit by traffic. One of his pursuers was less fortunate. Roger heard the crash, looking over his shoulder to see the man thrown from the front of a taxi. He kept running toward an alley, planning to escape from his pursuers and head toward the docks.