To Kill The Truth
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During the run up to the Scottish independence referendum, the Yes campaign are leading. This drives the opposing No campaign to desperate measures, and they have to start inventing false truths in order to get their favoured result. When the political lies and spin reach an unbearable level, it falls to a retired MI5 agent, a jailed computer hacker and a schoolboy genius to expose the truth.
The truth is out there somewhere ...
About the author:
Callum Duffy is a 15 year old schoolboy from Dundee. To Kill The Truth is his first novel.
statement that puts us at odds with the contractor. Remember that their information is out there first, so we are going to be on the back foot again. Tom, you said that the flooding problem had been addressed. Presumably there is some evidence of that, or at least we can get some independent expert to confirm that all necessary steps have been taken. You see what I’m driving at? Instead of pitting politician against expert, deploy expert witness against the contractor.” Tom’s face was set in
can you get me a slot on a prime current affairs programme tomorrow? I will be making an announcement about the future of oil revenues after independence. Second, I noticed how coy you were when Mary, Lorna and Jo were mentioned. What gives?” “Well, boss, I was just thinking about the conversation we had about the possibility of a mole. I didn’t want to be drawn on what I would go over with them in case the mole got to know. It would be bad if they went to events only to be mugged by opponents
meeting, and was met by Penny, outside the Prime Minister’s office. She knocked twice, and both of them went in. They sat opposite Nigel Braithwaite, immaculate as ever, across the large mahogany table. He was slightly surprised that Penny sat beside him, rather than on the opposite side of the table with the Prime Minister. He noted that, unusually, the Prime Minister had no pen or paper in front of him. After some routine pleasantries, Braithwaite began in earnest. “Sir David, I am quite sure
twenty five miles to his intended destination for the night. On cue, as the Volvo joined the motorway, the rain started. It was as though the clouds had been converted into a waterfall. Visibility, even with headlights on and wipers at full speed was poor. Chisholm drove carefully. The early evening traffic was quite light, the peak of the rush hour having passed some twenty minutes earlier. They had gone about fifteen miles when Chisholm announced, “There is a police car with its lights
knew that wasn’t the case, as she walked the thirty yards from the car to the ticket office, she felt fully exposed, as though everybody was taking an interest in her. She was aware of everyone, and thought they were all looking at her. Shona knew that it only needed one person to recognise her and she could be stopped. She forced herself to stay calm, and walk at a normal pace, controlling her breathing. She wanted to run, to reach the relative safety of the crowd where she could mingle and stay