The Newton Prophecies

Chapter 28

Chapter 28

"Mike!" Clinton was out of breath, struggling to keep up with DiBianco's sudden, almost unimaginable energy.
         DiBianco didn't say a word. He just kept running; running toward two large black bags.
         "Mr. DiBianco, please!"
         "Call me Mike ... damn you!"
         Clinton slammed into DiBianco as he stopped, grabbed the bags, and took off again toward South Wharf Road.
         "Mike!" Clinton's eyes rolled in his head. Sucking in a series of deep breaths, he launched himself toward DiBianco. "What the hell's going on? Where are you going?"
         DiBianco ran toward Paddington Station like a marathon runner with the finish line in his sights; the black bags hanging firmly at his sides.
         "Mike. Hold on. Please!" They weren't going to get far with DiBianco's privates dangling about.
         Clinton had a solution. It wasn't great, but it was something. He unzipped his laptop bag, pulled out a thin piece of purple cloth and waved it in the air. "Mike!" All he had to do now was get him to stop long enough to put it on.

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