Read by Avin Shah
The terrorists had already had extraordinary luck.
A sentry lost interest just before he would have undoubtedly uncovered the weapons in the back of their truck. A girl undressing at a window had caught the attention of an officer who waved them through a checkpoint impatiently, just before the numberplates of their stolen van could be checked. An anti-tank shell screaming directly at their truck had been intercepted by a tourist bus, approaching the city at speed on the other carriageway. Over twenty people had died, but the terrorists had escaped without a scratch. They were, they acknowledged among themselves, extraordinarily lucky.
Then Farlo won the state lottery.