"Well f**k my old boots," Mike heard a familiar voice say. He looked up to see who"d spoken, but he hadn"t really needed to, there was only one person he knew or had known in his previous life that used that phrase. The last few years hadn"t changed him much; the beard was a new addition to what had just been designer stubble back in the day, but it was undoubtedly Mark Samuels. "Mike Cross, how the devil are you?”
Mike stood and with a genuine smile extended his hand, “Mark,” he said as his old colleague took his hand with a firm grip and pumped it up and down enthusiastically. “How long has it been?”
“Too bloody long,” Samuels replied, patting his old friend on the forearm with his spare hand. “In all the places in all the world,” Samuels grinned. “I never for one second thought I’d bu
