Chapter 7
Anton had almost thought Katie was pulling their leg. For one thing, he’d never met a woman who laughed so easily. For another, one who lit up so much each time she did.
But, exactly as she’d said, just five kilometers from Land’s End Airport, they drove by it. Skewjack was a low, rounded building, like a Quonset hut on steroids that someone had flattened until it was little more than a massive metal hump. There were only glimpses through a perimeter of trees, but if she was giving it to them straight, it was right there for all to see.
“Take a left here,” Katie pointed out an even narrower road than the “main” A30 that they were on.
“We don’t want to be too obvious.”
“It won’t be. There are a couple farms back there. If Janice is in, we can go visit Bunker Cottage. This who
