Petra's StoryI can't remember the explosion my last memory was following the Grand Master up the stairs, chasing down this obnoxious American guy and his little French girlfriend. What happened afterwards? I have no idea. All I remember is lying in the smoking ruins of St. Ninians, semiconscious, bleeding, my leg crushed under a wooden beam. Dust, ash and the smell of burning gunpowder made it hard to breathe and my ears were filled with a high-pitched whistling sound. I tried to sit up, but unbearable pain made me fall back down at once. Coughing hard I tried to look around, searching for a sign of life, but all I saw was debris, fire and smoke. Who was I kidding? They were all dead, buried under the collapsed church side by side with the Baphomet idol. I thought of Eklund, tonight's first victim, killed by Rosso, who foolishly tried to interfere with the Grand Master's orders. What had the inspector been up to? I'd probably never know, even if I survived this mess.
I suddenly realized how
Broken Sword: Until We Meet AgainNicole Collard exited her editor's office with a small smile gracing her lips. The very second she closed the door behind her, she was hundred per cent sure he started reciting his entire catalogue of the most colorful swear words imaginable -which, for French people, was definitely saying something. Not that she blamed him, but she certainly didn't pity him either. For once, she figured luck was on her side. She had been on the verge of getting fired from La Liberté when the phone in her editor's office had providentially rung. Another freelance reporter had apparently messed up a scoop and since nobody else was actually available to pick up the pieces, well, her boss had, although reluctantly, changed his mind about getting rid of her at the last second.
Nico allowed herself a small chuckle upon seeing her colleague and friend, Candice, looking up at her anxiously, obviously waiting for her to deliver the bad news. All Nico did instead was to give Candice a thumbs up, a