The game’s played in the corridors of power in Westminister and Washington. It’s played in alleyways in Bangkok and desolate hillsides in Afghanistan. It’s played in the skies of distant alien worlds, where terrible things slumber behind the wall of pain. The game’s played with bullets and with secrets, and they’re both equally deadly.
Our opponents in this game are... [click here for more]
License to Summon - like fighting fire by hitting it with a molotov cocktail!
Wisely did Ibn Schacabao say, that happy is the tomb where no wizard hath lain, happy the town at night whose wizards are all ashes, and happy the line manager whose wizards hath filled in their timesheets for this Sabbat-night.
The Laundry – that top-secret, bottom-drawer branch of British espionage –... [click here for more]
If a little knowledge is a dangerous thing, then a lot of knowledge is a critical mass.
Deep beneath London, the Laundry archives occupy several miles of disused subway tunnel. The shelves are crammed with documents and reports. Eyewitness statements, newspaper cuttings, court transcripts, the diaries of madmen, autopsies, scientific papers, archived material – from these, the Laundry works... [click here for more]