Drabble: Retro

Retro

They find him in a small cafe somewhere in the third world, in the heart of one former colonial capital or another, drinking gin and tonic and muttering about the heat. He denies any memory of his old identity, but that might just be more subterfuge. Never could tell with his sort.

We didn’t think we’d need him again; his sort was another casualty of peace. But of course no peace lasts, and then the weapons come out all over again. He’s not the first one to be looked up.

Deep down, I know he’s as excited as we are.