The Distant Temple
The rain had turned the gravel drive into a slurry of grey mud, a thick, sucking paste that dragged at the tires of the black sedan as it crawled up the hill toward the estate. Inside, Major Elias Thorne sat with his hands resting loosely on his lap, fingers long and pale, still bearing the faint, ghostly outline of the pistol grip he had held for twenty years. He was a man who had spent a...
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