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and the resulting tidal wave moved south east at over 80 kilometres an hour, rising to a height of 150 feet. This wave took out the Minoan civilisation on Crete and other surrounding islands on one terrible day, the sky black with ash and thesun blocked for days plunging the world into unknown terror and all the food of the basically vegetarian Minoans rendered useless. Anyone who survived was looking at starvation and having no drinking water. Everything that they had died that day.
    David wondered where all this was going. He knew people had often said Santorini was Atlantis as it disappeared in a very close situation to the myth, yet David knew as he had now recalled his past life in Atlantis that whilst Santorini was part of it, Atlantis was a way of life, not an island or even a continent. It was the shift to consciousness and so in some ways a new Atlantis that had become his mission over eight years ago, and finding genuine individuals who as conscious entrepreneurs would be a good critical mass to begin with. All of his and Rocko’s business interests were geared toward this goal.
    As he was pondering the biggest question, scrambled or fried eggs, his Skype rang. Rocko must have slept late as was his way. It was nearly 12pm in Malaysia. David clicked on ‘answer’ looking forward to another lewd tale of ‘a night out with Rocko’ and how he managed to do the most unbelievable things. He once took three girlfriends to a concert and had them in three different seats, running from seat to seat pretending he was there just with that one. Only Rocko could get away with that.
    Today all he heard from Rocko was how he’d been the subject of a photo on a throwaway phone that went nowhere and how his ex bank buddy Leon had been told he would become chief executive of the bank and about a concern Leon had for a couple of the board members and what they expected him to do as chief executive. David was glad he was no longer in corporate although he was surprised by Leon’s fear that someone was after him, even though he was first in line for one of the biggest banking jobs on the planet. Rocko had put it down to nerves and the photographer simply checking out whom their prize boy was hanging out with at dinner.

4
    The student waited nervously behind a group of shops in Bangsar Village. It felt safe enough. Bangsar was a nightlife haven, bustling full of restaurants, pubs and foreigners. While he was deep in the alley, people were passing. A striking blonde Caucasian man in his late thirties entered the alley. He was muscular in a tight t-shirt and walked with a purpose in his step.
    “You texted us the photo and you did a poor job. We cannot identify that man. Tell me about him.” The man spoke with an Eastern European accent.
    “Can we maybe get a coffee, Sir? I feel a little strange in this alley. I know I didn’t do my best, but I was nervous.”
    “Never mind – it will all be over in a few seconds. Now tell me about him.”
    “Um…” the student stuttered. The man smiled and relaxed.
    “He was solidly built, part Mexican or Arab, mid-thirties and spoke with an American accent. That’s all I could find out.”
    “You spoke to him?” The stare of the blond man intensified.
    “I… I….” the student stuttered and started shaking.
    “It matters not.” The blond man smiled and in a flash of his right hand he struck a fatal blow, a razor sharp blade slashed across the student’s jugular and the expert moved swiftly to avoid the spurt of bright red blood that came from the aghast student. His eyes told a story that his mouth could not verbalise. The assassin smoothly and gracefully pulled his prey into the shadows and held him until he passed out. He dropped the blade and with not the slightest fleck of blood on his taut t-shirt he moved from the alley into the light, stopping immediately at a Starbucks and purchasing a frappe, ensuring he flirted immensely with the little Muslim girl serving him, and