Aocles sat down in despair. He was dead. Most certainly. How else could you explain his problem. He could see in the dark, he weighed virtually nothin..., and his heart wasn't beating. Despair and guilt took another slash at him. Mom, Dad, I'll never see you again. Damn air force can't even send out a rescue party. Gods damn them. Unfortunately the air force had sent out a SAR team. They found the downed planes and two bodies. One was identifiable as his wing mate but the other was burned almost. Finally, those evenings in the bar after work, sitting with her and other colleagues, and those sometimes not especially subtle hints, had come to this. Something he was sure justified making up the excuse of having to take one of his estranged wife's daughters to the clinic and thereby take the Tuesday morning off. But, of course, instead of driving across the Brooklyn Bridge, he steered his BMW over to the Upper East Side to fulfil his rendezvous with Marianne.Marianne lay down on her back on. More

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