Chapter Four
Elena Illich stood near the Catholic Church. She imagined the Americans were fools; she knew about the growing antagonism that caused Russian Prime Minister, Mikhail Gorbachev, to gather his thoughts inside The Kremlin. The USSR agent, Vladimir Krone. 'It's unacceptable', he told Elena. 'What's the matter?', she asked him. 'We are the enemy', Mikhail said.
'And, you're paranoid', Elena said.
'America is so proud about what we did in the Cold War in the nineteen sixties. When President John F. Kennedy, and Attorney-General Robert Kennedy, were assassinated, we thought we could win the war. People don't believe in death. It's the souls of the dead', Elena said.
And she got out a copy of The Washington Post.
'Read this', Elena added.
And Vladimir read the headline.
THE END IS NEAR...
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Caleb watched a group of hippie girls wearing turtle necked skivvies, and flares. They chanted to some kind of song from the nineteen sixties, and nineteen seventies. Almost a generation ago. He was thinking about the peace and love generation; he knew that it was false, like the way everyone in New York was doing now. Crime was rife on the graffiti stained subways at night time; gangs were on the trains slicing at anyone who sat on their cheap, silvery, seats with razors, and knives. Religion was back, and it dominated the city. in short, it was bad news to go on the subway after seven o'clock in the evening.
Caleb waited for the eight o'clock train to take him to Down Town New York.
He stopped, and got off 14th Street, and led to the Hudson River.339Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ081VP88X8X
That was when the trouble started.
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