THE DIARY OF MARK HOLLINGSWORTH, SPY

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Day 5; April 23 I PICKED up my briefcase and strode confidently across the Dáil bar towards my target after adjusting my trilby over one eye, and pulling the mirrored sunglasses from the pocket of my beige trenchcoat. I can safely say, no one suspected me. He was of very pale pallor, suggesting a man… Read more »