27
All around me in a tightly-packed crowd Kwanon civilians were enjoying the spectacle of prisoners being subjected to inhuman treatment. Just beyond the crowd were the Bobbies, charging. They’d reached the station platform by the only visible entrance which was also the only way out. Coiffured heads turned my way, the gnarled hand of an old woman seized my right arm, and the beefy hand of a suited thuggish-type grabbed my left shoulder. Kwanon civilians were law-abiding types anxious to assist their police in the discharge of their duties.
I wrenched my arm from the woman’s feeble grasp and rammed my elbow into her seamed face. It wasn’t chivalrous but I’m not the chivalrous type. Never have been, especially when my life is on the line. She fell backwards with a squeal, her nose flatte
