Third son of a Duke – The research behind the story – 23

All stories require some form of research, quite often to place a character in a place at a particular time, especially if it is in a historical context. This series will take you through what it was like in 1914 through 1916.

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WWI Troop Arrival and Orders in Egypt (April 1915)

The journey of an Englishman returning from Australia to enlist, travelling through the Suez Canal in April 1915, places him squarely within the initial stages of the British Empire’s military buildup in Egypt.

1. Nearest Port and Ship Delivery

The most likely final disembarkation port for troop transport ships arriving in Egypt via the Suez Canal in April 1915 was Alexandria.

  • Suez Canal Route: The ship would pass through the Suez Canal and enter the Mediterranean Sea via Port Said. While Port Said was a vital coaling and resupply station at the northern entrance of the Canal, it was primarily a commercial port and a critical point for Canal defence.
  • The Main Base: Alexandria was the primary, large-capacity deep-water port on the Mediterranean coast and served as the main base and logistic hub for the British, Australian, and New Zealand (ANZAC) forces in Egypt. Troops destined for the extensive training camps in the Cairo area (like Mena Camp near the Pyramids) were routinely disembarked at Alexandria due to its superior facilities for handling large numbers of men, horses, and materiel.

In short, the ship would transit the Canal at Port Said, but the soldier would be delivered to Alexandria.

2. Travel to Cairo and Training Camps

Yes, he would almost certainly need to go to Cairo first, or at least pass through the major military transit points near it, before reaching the training camps near the Pyramids (Mena Camp).

  • From Alexandria to Cairo: Upon disembarking at Alexandria, soldiers were typically immediately loaded onto troop trains for the several-hour journey inland. The main line ran directly to Cairo, where the primary base hospitals, advanced supply depots, and major military command were located.
  • Mena Camp: The famous Mena Camp, situated right next to the Giza Pyramids, was the principal training ground for incoming forces. Transportation from the Cairo railway station or a nearby transit point would be organised to move him to his specific unit in the camp.

3. Reporting with Special Orders

If the enlisted Englishman had “special orders,” his reporting procedure would be immediately elevated and separated from the standard mass of recruits.

  • Standard Procedure: A typical enlisted man would report to the Adjutant or a Regimental Sergeant Major (RSM) of the unit he was assigned to, who would be waiting at the port or the reception depot in Cairo.
  • Special Orders Procedure: A soldier with special orders would likely be carrying them in a sealed document intended for high-level staff. He would report to:
    1. The Base Commandant or Staff Officer on Arrival: The first stop would be the Base Commandant or the senior Staff Officer of the disembarkation port (Alexandria). He would present his orders and be immediately directed to the appropriate authority.
    2. General Officer Commanding (G.O.C.)’s Headquarters: His orders would likely route him directly to the General Officer Commanding, Egypt (G.O.C. Egypt), or the Staff Officer representing the GOC at GHQ (General Headquarters) in Cairo. In April 1915, the overall command in Egypt was likely under the purview of General Sir John Maxwell, who was responsible for the troops and defenses of Egypt. If the special orders related to the imminent Gallipoli campaign, he might be directed to the headquarters of the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps (ANZAC) or the Mediterranean Expeditionary Force (MEF), both of which had Staff Officers operating out of the Cairo command structure.

In summary, his path would be: Australia → Suez Canal → Disembark at Alexandria → Troop Train to Cairo → Report to GHQ Staff (or his unit in the Mena Camp area).

“Because it’s not me” – a short story

If the was one fault I had, it was prevarication.

For a long time, I had always been afraid of making a mistake, after I had done exactly that.  They said our mistakes didn’t define us, but that one had.  I had lost the trust of everyone, from my parents to my friends.

It was only a small lie, or so I told myself, but it had far-reaching ramifications and almost cost someone their life.  But whilst I believed it was not all that bad, and the police had agreed that anyone who had been put in the same position would have done the same, there were those who didn’t agree.

It was a moment in time I often relived in my mind, over and over, and eventually led to several outcomes.

First, I left home, the town where up till then I’d lived all of my life, walking away from family and those who used to be friends, knowing that what they said and what they felt were two entirely different things.  For all concerned, it was better that I leave, cutting all ties, and make a fresh start, away from those whom I knew would never forget, even though they forgave me.

The second, and most dire, I changed my name, and my history, even how I looked.  Today, I am a very different person from the one of thirty years ago.

The third, I moved to another country and vowed never to return, always looking constantly over my shoulder, expecting someone from the past to find me.  I instinctively knew that I would never escape, that one day a stark reminder would come back and destroy everything.

I picked the one occupation that would keep me both occupied and invisible.

Journalist.

I had started at the bottom, literally writing death notices, and worked my way up to what is ubiquitously known as ‘foreign correspondent’, going to places where no one else would go, those hotbeds of unrest, and war zones, reporting from both sides.

Perhaps it could be said I had a death wish, a statement my editor had once said when he came to see me in hospital back in London after I’d been caught up in a rocket attack and repatriated.  He had come to offer me a job back home, to tell me my tour was over.

I declined the opportunity, and he left, shaking his head.

But that was not the only visitor that came to the hospital that day.  The other visitor was an elderly man, immaculately dressed in a pinstripe suit and bowler hat.  It screamed public servant, and the moment I saw him wandering up the passage, a chill ran down my spine.

Although he looked like he was looking for someone else, I knew he would eventually end up in my doorway.

Five minutes after I first saw him.

When he appeared at the door, I thought about ignoring him, but realised that wasn’t going to change anything.  Besides that, I guess I wanted to know why he would want to see me.

“James Wilson?”

“Would it make any difference if I said no?”  Well, it didn’t mean I couldn’t spar with him, just a little.  “Who are you?”

“Do you mind if I come in?”

I got the impression he would do it anyway, irrespective of what I said.  I said no, and as I suspected, he came in anyway, closing the door behind him, then took a minute or two to make himself comfortable in the visitor’s chair, which was an impossible task.

Then, settled, he said, “I understand you have just been repatriated from Syria.”

“I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

It wasn’t common knowledge where I’d come from, so this person knew something about me, which was an immediate cause for concern.

“The bane of a reporter trying to cover a dangerous situation,” he said, with just the right amount of levity in his tone.  “I get it, by the way.  I once had that devil-may-care attitude you need to get the story.  I was chasing a Pulitzer, believe it or not, and used a few of those nine lives in the process.  Which one are you up to?”

I was going to say that awards didn’t matter, but among those who made up the press pack in those God-forsaken places, there was an unwritten desire to be rewarded other than by pay.  For me, though, it was not a defining factor.

“Lost count.  But why would that interest you, or whoever it is you represent?  By the way, just who do you represent?”

Second attempt at finding out who this man was.  If he were dodging and weaving, it would suggest a clandestine organisation.

“People who would like to use your unique talent in getting into trouble spots around the world.  We’re not asking you to come work for us exclusively, rather piggyback on the job that you already do so well.”

An unnamed man from an unnamed organisation.  What he was offering wasn’t unheard of, and I had been warned, more than once, that jobs, like he was suggesting, were more often than not offered to people like me.  With that came one line of advice: turn around and run like hell.

But, with nothing to amuse me in the hospital, I was curious.  “Doing what exactly?”

The fact that his expression changed indicated my response had taken him by surprise.  Perhaps he was used to being told where to go.  Not yet.  I had this fanciful notion in the back of my mind that what he might offer might get me closer to the story.

“Keeping your eyes and ears open.  We’ll tell you what to look for; all you’ll be doing is looking for evidence.  There will be no need to go looking for trouble; if there’s evidence, we ask you to report it; if not, no harm done.”

Not so hard.  If that was all, it was.  The trouble was, if something sounds simple, which that did, inevitably it was going to be anything but.  I’d heard stories and the consequences.

“You’re presuming that my editor will send me back.  He just offered me a job at home.”

“I think both of us know you’re not interested in domesticity.  If he isn’t willing to adhere to your wishes, I’m sure we could find someone else who would be willing to take you on.  You have had several offers recently, have you not?”

So, without a doubt, he knew a lot about me, especially if he asked around.  I had had several offers, but I was happy where I was.  I liked the ‘no questions about your past’ that my current employer had.

Yes, looking at the determination on this man’s face, I had no doubt they or he could do what he said.  No one comes to a meeting like this without holding all the cards.  Also, not that I wanted it to be so, it told me that my agreement was not necessarily going to be optional.

But I was happy to dither and find out.  “Since I’m not sure when the hospital is going to discharge me, and the fact that I’m not exactly very mobile at the moment, can I consider the proposal.  Right now, as you can imagine, getting back to work is not exactly a priority.”

“Of course.”  He took a card out of his coat pocket and put it on the bedside table.  “By all means.  Call me on that number when you’ve decided.” He stood.  “It will be a great opportunity.  Thank you for your time.”

Of course, the two impressions I was left with were, one, that he had me mixed up with someone else, and two, that I would never see him again.

It was an impossible task, for me at least, because I did not have a poker face and could barely carry a lie.  I would be the last person they’d want for the job.

And thinking that, I rolled over, put it out of my mind, and went back to sleep.

© Charles Heath 2025

The 2am Rant: Driving in suburbia

It was one of those beautiful Autumn mornings, blue sky with a smattering of clouds but a sunny day all the same.  It’s Sunday so there is not as much traffic on the road.

Anyone with any sense would be going to their favourite coffee place and settling down to their choice of coffee and perhaps a toaster or muffin to accompany the conversation.

This is what’s happening at the cafe where we go for coffee.  9:00 in the morning it is packed.  But great coffee is hard to find, and this is apparently great coffee.

It’s that in-between time before it gets windy, cold and wet, with the sort of chill you can feel in your bones, whether it’s the time when you have a barbeque in the mid-afternoon and get home before the cold sets in or take the kids to the park for some healthy exercise.

Today I have to take a drive from one side of suburbia to the other, taking a network of main roads with rather anonymous names such as North and South

We travel through the older suburbs, those with a collection of red or white bricks and timber dating back to the fifties and sixties.  They are not, for the most part, in a good state of repair, and rather than looking ramshackle, it’s more like they are slowly decaying.

Fences are rotting or falling over, extensions are like they have been glued on rather than added by an architect, and paint is either fading or missing.  For the most part, people are struggling to keep up with the cost of living and are too busy to worry about maintenance.

Some have been bulldozed and replaced, blocks are cleared awaiting new development, and others are being renovated.  Any way you look at them they are still worth a great deal of money being relatively close to the city.  Nut it’s a double-edged sword, worth a lot, but costing more to keep.

It’s a location we could never afford.  Because we were not affluent, we were pushed out to the less expensive outer suburbs.  This was of course 50 years ago, and now those outer suburbs are the new inner suburbs and people are buying up to 50 km further out in the new estates.  When I was young these suburbs were farms and open land.

It also surprises me that people would want to live on the main road because, with traffic as it is heading into the city, it would be difficult to leave or return by car.  At least for these people, public transport is better than in the outer suburbs.

Because it’s Sunday my trip takes a lot less time, except for those unpredictable traffic lights, some of which I missed and took a while to cycle through the other traffic before it was our time to move.  It’s the only disappointment of the modern era, the fact roads were never made to handle the traffic, and the fact they now have to bulldoze homes to make way for roads.

Pity they didn’t lay down the foundations of a proper transport system, much like they have in major European cities.

Research for the writing of a thriller – 4

Background material used in creating a location, an explosive situation, and characters to bring it alive – the story – A Score to Settle

…

A Cover story that just might work

…

The Art of the Enduring Cover: Hiding in Plain Sight Among the Press

In the shadowy world of espionage, where every move is calculated and every word weighed, what’s the ultimate weapon? It’s not always a silenced pistol or a high-tech gadget. Often, it’s something far more subtle, more pervasive, and infinitely more powerful: the perfect cover.

Forget the trench coats and dark alleys. Our consummate spy understands that true invisibility isn’t about disappearing; it’s about blending in so seamlessly that you become part of the background noise. And what better place to be both seen and simultaneously overlooked than amidst a burgeoning press corps at a high-stakes international conference?

The Brilliance of the Verifiable Narrative

Our operative isn’t just carrying a fake ID; they possess an enduring cover, a meticulously crafted persona so robust it can withstand scrutiny. This isn’t a flimsy backstory; it’s solid, researchable, and verifiable. Think about it: a legitimate journalist, working for a credible (perhaps even slightly obscure but real) publication, with a publication history, a social media presence, and a genuine reason to be asking questions.

Their reason for being in the country and at this specific conference isn’t suspicious; it’s expected. They are here to cover the proceedings, to report on the speeches, to interview delegates – all legitimate journalistic pursuits. This isn’t just a disguise; it’s an entire, living, breathing narrative, allowing them to move freely, to probe, to listen, and to observe with an air of professional legitimacy. They are, quite literally, hiding in plain sight.

A Sea of Familiar Faces

The beauty of this particular cover is amplified by the environment. A major international conference attracts a swarm of media. A cacophony of camera clicks, flashing lights, and whispered interviews creates a perfect smokescreen. Our spy isn’t just a journalist; they are one of many.

And within this bustling throng, there are familiar faces. Some are undoubtedly genuine journalists, passionate about their craft. But others? Perhaps they are like our operative, wearing their press credentials as a cloak. Or perhaps they are simply career conference-hoppers, their faces known from one event to the next, adding another layer of visual camouflage. The sheer volume of press personnel makes it easier to track targets, pass messages, or simply observe without drawing undue attention. Who is genuinely chasing a story, and who is chasing something else entirely? The lines are deliciously blurred.

Bypassing Bureaucracy

Another significant advantage of this carefully constructed media persona is its utility in navigating local challenges. A legitimate press pass and a verifiable mission can be a powerful diplomatic tool. Dealing with local police, security forces, or even just navigating restricted zones becomes less difficult. A simple flash of the press badge often smooths over minor inconveniences, allowing access where others might be questioned, or providing a believable excuse for being in a particular area at an unusual hour. “Just chasing a late-breaking story, officer,” carries more weight when backed by a plausible cover.

The Unseen Gaze

But even the most pristine cover isn’t a cloak of invisibility. Our spy, for all their cleverness, operates with an acute awareness of an ever-present reality: there is surveillance.

From the moment they cleared customs to every elevator ride, every whispered conversation in a hotel lobby, and every seemingly innocuous stroll through the conference hall, eyes and ears are active. Cameras pan, microphones hum, and specialists observe. The challenge isn’t just to avoid detection, but to operate knowing detection is a constant threat. The enduring cover isn’t about eliminating surveillance; it’s about making sure that what surveillance sees is exactly what you want it to see – a diligent, though perhaps slightly eccentric, member of the press.

In the intricate dance of international intrigue, the journalist’s notebook becomes a shield, the camera lens a silent observer, and the bustling press corps, the ultimate sanctuary. For the consummate spy, the greatest deception often lies in simply being exactly where they’re expected to be, doing exactly what they’re expected to do, while pursuing a truth far deeper than any headline could ever capture.

Top 5 sights on the road less travelled – San Marino

Discovering the Hidden Gems of San Marino: 5 Off-the-Beaten-Path Experiences

Tucked away in the Apennine Mountains, San Marino is a tiny, independent republic that’s often overlooked by travellers flocking to more popular Italian destinations. However, this charming microstate has a wealth of secrets waiting to be uncovered by intrepid explorers. While many visitors flock to the capital city’s historic centre and the iconic Three Towers, there’s a world of adventure and discovery to be had on the road less travelled. In this blog post, we’ll delve into the top five alternative things to do in San Marino, taking you off the beaten path and into the heart of this enchanting country.

1. Explore the scenic trails of Monte Titano

San Marino’s rugged landscape is perfect for hiking and trekking, with numerous trails that crisscross the country. One of the most breathtaking routes is the Sentiero delle Panoremi, which winds its way around the base of Monte Titano, the country’s highest peak. This moderately challenging hike offers stunning views of the surrounding countryside, as well as the chance to spot local wildlife, such as deer and wild boar. For a more leisurely stroll, try the Sentiero della Rocca, which takes you through a picturesque valley and offers breathtaking vistas of the valley below.

2. Visit the quirky Museum of Curiosities

Tucked away in a quiet alleyway in the capital city, the Museum of Curiosities (Museo delle Cere) is a bizarre and fascinating attraction that’s sure to delight. This quirky museum is home to a vast collection of wax sculptures, including historical figures, mythical creatures, and even a few San Marino legends. With its eclectic mix of art, history, and humour, the Museum of Curiosities is a must-visit for anyone looking to experience the unique culture of San Marino.

3. Sample local wines at a family-run vineyard

San Marino is renowned for its excellent wines, particularly its white wines, which are made from the Verdicchio grape. To experience the best of San Marino’s viticulture, head to a family-run vineyard, such as the Azienda Agricola Sassina or the Cantina di San Marino. Here, you can take a guided tour of the vineyards, learn about the wine-making process, and sample some of the region’s finest vintages. Many vineyards also offer delicious local cuisine, including cheese, cured meats, and homemade pasta.

4. Discover the medieval charm of Fiorentino

Just a short drive from the capital city, the medieval town of Fiorentino is a hidden gem waiting to be discovered. This picturesque village is filled with narrow cobblestone streets, quaint piazzas, and historic buildings, including a stunning 14th-century church. Visitors can explore the town’s charming centre, visit the local museum, and enjoy a leisurely lunch at one of the town’s family-run trattorias. For a truly immersive experience, try visiting Fiorentino during one of its many festivals, such as the Festa della Madonna della Pietà in September.

5. Take a scenic drive along the Strada del Castello

For a truly unique perspective on San Marino, take a drive along the Strada del Castello, a scenic road that winds its way along the country’s rugged coastline. This stunning route offers breathtaking views of the Adriatic Sea, as well as the chance to explore some of San Marino’s most picturesque towns and villages. Along the way, be sure to stop at the Castello di Fiorentino, a medieval fortress that offers panoramic views of the surrounding countryside. For a thrilling experience, try driving the Strada del Castello at sunset, when the sky is painted with hues of pink and gold.

In conclusion, San Marino is a country that’s full of surprises, from its stunning natural beauty to its quirky cultural attractions. By venturing off the beaten path, you can discover a world of hidden gems and unique experiences that will leave you with unforgettable memories of this enchanting microstate. So why not take the road less travelled and explore the secrets of San Marino? You never know what wonders you might discover.

What I learned about writing – Questions sometimes don’t have answers

At what point does a writer become a journalist?

Quite often journalists become writers because of their vast experience in observing and writing about the news, sometimes in the category of ‘truth is stranger than fiction’.

I did journalism at University and thought I would never get to use it.  I had to interview people, write articles, and act as an editor.  The hardest part was the headlines.

How much does that resemble the job of coming up with a title for your book?

Well, several opportunities arose over the last few months to dig out the journalist hat, put it on, and go to work.

Where?

Hospital.  I’ve had to go there a few times more in the last few months than I have in recent years.

And I’d forgotten just how hospitals are interesting places, especially the waiting room in Emergency.

After the second or third visit, I started to observe the people who were waiting and ran through various scenarios as to the reason for their visit.  None may have been true, but it certainly was an exercise in creative writing and would make an excellent article.

Similarly, once we got inside the inner sanctum, where the real work is done, there is any number of crises and operations going on, and plenty of material for when I might need to include a hospital scene in one of my stories.

Or I could write a volume in praise of the people who work there and what they have to endure.  Tending the sick, injured and badly injured is not a job for the faint-hearted.

Research, if it could be called that, turns up in the unlikeliest of places.  Doctors who answer questions, not necessarily about the malady, nurses who tell you about what it’s like in Emergency on nights you really don’t want to be there, and other patients and their families, all of whom have a story to tell, or just wait patiently for a diagnosis and then treatment so they can go home.

We get to go this time at about four in the morning.  Everyone is tired.  More people are waiting.  Outside it is cool and the first rays of light are coming over the horizon as dawn is about to break.

I ponder the question without an answer, a question one of the nurses asked a youngish doctor, tossed out in conversation, but was there a more intent to it; what he was doing on Saturday night.

He didn’t answer.  Another crisis, another patient.

I suspect he was on duty in Emergency.

Coming soon – “Strangers We’ve Become”, the sequel to “What Sets Us Apart”

Stranger’s We’ve Become, a sequel to What Sets Us Apart.

The blurb:

Is she or isn’t she, that is the question!

Susan has returned to David, but he is having difficulty dealing with the changes. Her time in captivity has changed her markedly, so much so that David decides to give her some time and space to re-adjust back into normal life.

But doubts about whether he chose the real Susan remain.

In the meantime, David has to deal with Susan’s new security chief, the discovery of her rebuilding a palace in Russia, evidence of an affair, and several attempts on his life. And, once again, David is drawn into another of Predergast’s games, one that could ultimately prove fatal.

From being reunited with the enigmatic Alisha, a strange visit to Susan’s country estate, to Russia and back, to a rescue mission in Nigeria, David soon discovers those whom he thought he could trust each has their own agenda, one that apparently doesn’t include him.

The Cover:

strangerscover9

Coming soon

 

Top 5 sights on the road less travelled – Ankara

Off the Beaten Path: Top 5 Alternative Things to Do in Ankara

Ankara, the capital city of Turkey, is often overshadowed by its more popular counterpart, Istanbul. However, this vibrant city has a rich history, cultural significance, and a plethora of exciting activities to offer. While many tourists flock to the Anıtkabir, the Museum of Anatolian Civilisations, and the Kocatepe Mosque, there’s more to Ankara than meets the eye. In this blog post, we’ll delve into the top 5 alternative things to do in Ankara, taking you on a road less travelled.

1. Explore the Hamamönü District

Tucked away in the heart of the city, the Hamamönü District is a charming neighbourhood that showcases Ankara’s Ottoman heritage. This historic district is filled with beautifully restored 19th-century Ottoman houses, quaint shops, and traditional Turkish cafes. Visitors can wander through the narrow streets, admire the architecture, and experience the local culture. Don’t miss the opportunity to try some traditional Turkish delight and coffee at one of the many cafes in the area.

2. Visit the Ankara Castle

Perched atop a hill in the Ulus district, the Ankara Castle offers breathtaking panoramic views of the city. This ancient fortress dates back to the 7th century and has been occupied by various civilisations, including the Romans, Byzantines, and Ottomans. While the castle itself is impressive, the surrounding neighbourhood is also worth exploring, with its narrow streets, historic mosques, and traditional shops.

3. Discover the Turkish Aerospace Museum

For aviation enthusiasts and families alike, the Turkish Aerospace Museum is a hidden gem. Located near the Etimesgut Air Base, this museum showcases a vast collection of aircraft, including historic planes, helicopters, and even a spaceship. With interactive exhibits and a play area for kids, this museum is an excellent alternative to the more traditional attractions in Ankara.

4. Wander through the Gençlik Park

The Gençlik Park, which translates to “Youth Park,” is a tranquil oasis in the heart of the city. This beautiful park offers a peaceful escape from the hustle and bustle of Ankara, with its lush greenery, walking trails, and picturesque lake. Visitors can rent a boat and enjoy a relaxing ride, or simply sit back and enjoy the scenery. The park also hosts various events and festivals throughout the year, making it a great place to experience local culture.

5. Explore the Söğütözü District’s Street Art

Ankara’s Söğütözü District is a hub for street artists, with vibrant murals and graffiti adorning the walls of buildings. This up-and-coming neighbourhood is a great place to explore, boasting an eclectic mix of boutiques, cafes, and restaurants. Visitors can take a self-guided walking tour to discover the unique street art, which reflects the city’s modern and artistic side. Be sure to check out the iconic “Ankara” mural, which has become a popular spot for Instagram-worthy photos.

In conclusion, Ankara is a city that offers much more than the usual tourist attractions. By venturing off the beaten path, visitors can experience the authentic culture, history, and beauty of this vibrant city. Whether you’re interested in history, art, nature, or simply exploring a new neighbourhood, Ankara has something to offer. So, take a road less travelled and discover the hidden gems of Ankara – you won’t be disappointed!

The story behind the story – Echoes from the Past

The novel ‘Echoes from the past’ started out as a short story I wrote about 30 years ago, titled ‘The birthday’.

My idea was to take a normal person out of their comfort zone and led on a short but very frightening journey to a place where a surprise birthday party had been arranged.

Thus the very large man with a scar and a red tie was created.

So was the friend with the limousine who worked as a pilot.

So were the two women, Wendy and Angelina, who were Flight Attendants that the pilot friend asked to join the conspiracy.

I was going to rework the short story, then about ten pages long, into something a little more.

And like all re-writes, especially those I have anything to do with, it turned into a novel.

There was motivation.  I had told some colleagues at the place where I worked at the time that I liked writing, and they wanted a sample.  I was going to give them the re-worked short story.  Instead, I gave them ‘Echoes from the past’

Originally it was not set anywhere in particular.

But when considering a location, I had, at the time, recently been to New York in December, and visited Brooklyn and Queens, as well as a lot of New York itself.  We were there for New Years, and it was an experience I’ll never forget.

One evening we were out late, and finished up in Brooklyn Heights, near the waterfront, and there was rain and snow, it was cold and wet, and there were apartment buildings shimmering in the street light, and I thought, this is the place where my main character will live.

It had a very spooky atmosphere, the sort where ghosts would not be unexpected.  I felt more than one shiver go up and down my spine in the few minutes I was there.

I had taken notes, as I always do, of everywhere we went so I had a ready supply of locations I could use, changing the names in some cases.

Fifth Avenue near the Rockefeller center is amazing at first light, and late at night with the Seasonal decorations and lights.

The original main character was a shy and man of few friends, hence not expecting the surprise party.  I enhanced that shyness into purposely lonely because of an issue from his past that leaves him always looking over his shoulder and ready to move on at the slightest hint of trouble.  No friends, no relationships, just a very low profile.

Then I thought, what if he breaks the cardinal rule, and begins a relationship?

But it is also as much an exploration of a damaged soul, as it is the search for a normal life, without having any idea what normal was, and how the understanding of one person can sometimes make all the difference in what we may think or feel.

And, of course, I wanted a happy ending.

Except for the bad guys.

Get it here:  https://amzn.to/2CYKxu4

newechocover5rs

Research for the writing of a thriller – 4

Background material used in creating a location, an explosive situation, and characters to bring it alive – the story – A Score to Settle

…

A Cover story that just might work

…

The Art of the Enduring Cover: Hiding in Plain Sight Among the Press

In the shadowy world of espionage, where every move is calculated and every word weighed, what’s the ultimate weapon? It’s not always a silenced pistol or a high-tech gadget. Often, it’s something far more subtle, more pervasive, and infinitely more powerful: the perfect cover.

Forget the trench coats and dark alleys. Our consummate spy understands that true invisibility isn’t about disappearing; it’s about blending in so seamlessly that you become part of the background noise. And what better place to be both seen and simultaneously overlooked than amidst a burgeoning press corps at a high-stakes international conference?

The Brilliance of the Verifiable Narrative

Our operative isn’t just carrying a fake ID; they possess an enduring cover, a meticulously crafted persona so robust it can withstand scrutiny. This isn’t a flimsy backstory; it’s solid, researchable, and verifiable. Think about it: a legitimate journalist, working for a credible (perhaps even slightly obscure but real) publication, with a publication history, a social media presence, and a genuine reason to be asking questions.

Their reason for being in the country and at this specific conference isn’t suspicious; it’s expected. They are here to cover the proceedings, to report on the speeches, to interview delegates – all legitimate journalistic pursuits. This isn’t just a disguise; it’s an entire, living, breathing narrative, allowing them to move freely, to probe, to listen, and to observe with an air of professional legitimacy. They are, quite literally, hiding in plain sight.

A Sea of Familiar Faces

The beauty of this particular cover is amplified by the environment. A major international conference attracts a swarm of media. A cacophony of camera clicks, flashing lights, and whispered interviews creates a perfect smokescreen. Our spy isn’t just a journalist; they are one of many.

And within this bustling throng, there are familiar faces. Some are undoubtedly genuine journalists, passionate about their craft. But others? Perhaps they are like our operative, wearing their press credentials as a cloak. Or perhaps they are simply career conference-hoppers, their faces known from one event to the next, adding another layer of visual camouflage. The sheer volume of press personnel makes it easier to track targets, pass messages, or simply observe without drawing undue attention. Who is genuinely chasing a story, and who is chasing something else entirely? The lines are deliciously blurred.

Bypassing Bureaucracy

Another significant advantage of this carefully constructed media persona is its utility in navigating local challenges. A legitimate press pass and a verifiable mission can be a powerful diplomatic tool. Dealing with local police, security forces, or even just navigating restricted zones becomes less difficult. A simple flash of the press badge often smooths over minor inconveniences, allowing access where others might be questioned, or providing a believable excuse for being in a particular area at an unusual hour. “Just chasing a late-breaking story, officer,” carries more weight when backed by a plausible cover.

The Unseen Gaze

But even the most pristine cover isn’t a cloak of invisibility. Our spy, for all their cleverness, operates with an acute awareness of an ever-present reality: there is surveillance.

From the moment they cleared customs to every elevator ride, every whispered conversation in a hotel lobby, and every seemingly innocuous stroll through the conference hall, eyes and ears are active. Cameras pan, microphones hum, and specialists observe. The challenge isn’t just to avoid detection, but to operate knowing detection is a constant threat. The enduring cover isn’t about eliminating surveillance; it’s about making sure that what surveillance sees is exactly what you want it to see – a diligent, though perhaps slightly eccentric, member of the press.

In the intricate dance of international intrigue, the journalist’s notebook becomes a shield, the camera lens a silent observer, and the bustling press corps, the ultimate sanctuary. For the consummate spy, the greatest deception often lies in simply being exactly where they’re expected to be, doing exactly what they’re expected to do, while pursuing a truth far deeper than any headline could ever capture.