been aware of it; it didn't make sense.
“Why were you gone for so long though? You could have asked me to come with you.” O'Keeffe enquired.
“I guess I just wanted to get away, although I can't really remember what I was doing in here! It's strange but I don't even recall you coming in!” Foster said with an element of bafflement.
O'Keeffe, realising that his friend wasn't himself or fully aware of his surroundings, took the sensible way out “Ha ha, well you were so intent on sorting out your hair in the mirror, I guess you didn't notice me coming in!”
“What? When was I looking into the mirror? Why can't I remember any of this!” asked Foster with concern
“Ah don't worry about it mate, you've just been subjected to an inordinate amount of stress! You just need a bloody good rest and you'll be fine! Come on let's get back to the others before they send out a search party” O'Keeffe replied as the two men began to walk out of the toilets. Foster looked back at the mirror, desperately trying to remember what he had been doing in the toilets. He couldn't remember, but knew one thing for certain; he didn't feel himself.
“Bloody hell, that's me down with firearms work, I'll not go through that again” a severely perspiring Conan said as he walked back into the police room. Inspector Balham asked him why and how it had gone in the box, despite knowing that there was an obvious answer to his question from Conan's appearance. Conan recalled how he'd been questioned for over two and a half hours on what he had said to Jennings and whether he had pointed a gun to his head after shooting him. The shooting itself was barely mentioned, a perfect example of how the legal system worked in the country with the human rights of violent deranged criminals being more important than anything else; even their victims. It had not been a pleasant experience for him and his sweat soaked white police shirt was indicative of that. Conan was dead serious about being finished with the unit, over the years he'd grown weary of the politics of it all and how you could be criticised by others for a split second decision when you were under the highest level of pressure, he'd had enough. The traumatic nature of Op Barrier and the repeated nightmares that followed were something that would stay with him forever so he didn't fancy risking it happening again, Conan needed a fresh start and would leave the unit within a few weeks. Another thing that hadn't helped Conan was when he and Foster had been involved in a stand up row in the firearms unit's office after he had taken umbrage to Fosters new antagonistic and aggressive personality. Since the shooting Foster had been a changed man and although this was plain to see for everyone, no one had stepped in to talk to him, fearing that he may flare up at them. As the months rolled on, the womanising and drinking went up a few levels, he had even started to be aggressive towards his friends, including O'Keeffe. But no matter what he did, the others just saw it as him letting off steam and something that would get better with time, although underneath they knew he wasn't right. MacNeil on the other hand, who was one of the most level headed guys on the unit quietly approached him away from hearing shot of the others and asked him to open up. However Foster replied that he couldn't work out what everyone's problem was with him and that he hadn't changed, and cited that everyone else had. MacNeil had become even more concerned during the conversation when Foster had begun stating that he believed the organisation was plotting against him and how he had been considering joining the Intelligence services to become a spy. None of it made any sense.
Now sat in the police room at the court house, Foster was waiting to give his evidence, the last to do so. O'Keeffe and MacNeil had already been asked about their involvement within the bedroom where Mahood had been shot. The cross examination the pair
“Why were you gone for so long though? You could have asked me to come with you.” O'Keeffe enquired.
“I guess I just wanted to get away, although I can't really remember what I was doing in here! It's strange but I don't even recall you coming in!” Foster said with an element of bafflement.
O'Keeffe, realising that his friend wasn't himself or fully aware of his surroundings, took the sensible way out “Ha ha, well you were so intent on sorting out your hair in the mirror, I guess you didn't notice me coming in!”
“What? When was I looking into the mirror? Why can't I remember any of this!” asked Foster with concern
“Ah don't worry about it mate, you've just been subjected to an inordinate amount of stress! You just need a bloody good rest and you'll be fine! Come on let's get back to the others before they send out a search party” O'Keeffe replied as the two men began to walk out of the toilets. Foster looked back at the mirror, desperately trying to remember what he had been doing in the toilets. He couldn't remember, but knew one thing for certain; he didn't feel himself.
“Bloody hell, that's me down with firearms work, I'll not go through that again” a severely perspiring Conan said as he walked back into the police room. Inspector Balham asked him why and how it had gone in the box, despite knowing that there was an obvious answer to his question from Conan's appearance. Conan recalled how he'd been questioned for over two and a half hours on what he had said to Jennings and whether he had pointed a gun to his head after shooting him. The shooting itself was barely mentioned, a perfect example of how the legal system worked in the country with the human rights of violent deranged criminals being more important than anything else; even their victims. It had not been a pleasant experience for him and his sweat soaked white police shirt was indicative of that. Conan was dead serious about being finished with the unit, over the years he'd grown weary of the politics of it all and how you could be criticised by others for a split second decision when you were under the highest level of pressure, he'd had enough. The traumatic nature of Op Barrier and the repeated nightmares that followed were something that would stay with him forever so he didn't fancy risking it happening again, Conan needed a fresh start and would leave the unit within a few weeks. Another thing that hadn't helped Conan was when he and Foster had been involved in a stand up row in the firearms unit's office after he had taken umbrage to Fosters new antagonistic and aggressive personality. Since the shooting Foster had been a changed man and although this was plain to see for everyone, no one had stepped in to talk to him, fearing that he may flare up at them. As the months rolled on, the womanising and drinking went up a few levels, he had even started to be aggressive towards his friends, including O'Keeffe. But no matter what he did, the others just saw it as him letting off steam and something that would get better with time, although underneath they knew he wasn't right. MacNeil on the other hand, who was one of the most level headed guys on the unit quietly approached him away from hearing shot of the others and asked him to open up. However Foster replied that he couldn't work out what everyone's problem was with him and that he hadn't changed, and cited that everyone else had. MacNeil had become even more concerned during the conversation when Foster had begun stating that he believed the organisation was plotting against him and how he had been considering joining the Intelligence services to become a spy. None of it made any sense.
Now sat in the police room at the court house, Foster was waiting to give his evidence, the last to do so. O'Keeffe and MacNeil had already been asked about their involvement within the bedroom where Mahood had been shot. The cross examination the pair
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