Once I met a terrorist....

Well, not exactly a terrorist. A mercenary. A member of the GAL. His name was Georges Alphonse Mendaille. I had just begun working in a local newspaper and someone told us he was living in a small town in our area. I was fresh out of university, but my boss decided I should be assigned the "easy" task of interviewing him or at least, talk to him. I figure my boss knew it would be nearly impossible but wanted to see how close I could get. Needless to say, I didn't feel confident at all, but nevertheless I tried to get to his house. I couldn't even ring the doorbell, though. As soon as I parked the car I had several policemen (in plain clothes) approaching me. I was not to get any closer, so I set to the stupid task of waiting to see if he left the house, where he would go, what he would buy, stuff like that. As weeks went by, I got tired. I wasn't making much progress. In fact, I hadn't even gotten a clear view of his face though I had seen him in pictures. So my newspaper assigned me another task: A poll. Yes. I was to interview people in that town and ask something like "Are you comfortable having a GAL terrorist as a neighbor?". It seemed easier, and had been gathering some answers when I decided to take a break and have some coffee. I entered a café and saw three men standing by the counter. One of them looked oddly familiar. I thought: well, I need more people for my poll, so I approached them and asked my question. The three of them were smiling. The oddly familiar man said no, he didn't mind having a GAL terrorist as a neighbor. His accent... I should have known... French accent... "I just need one more thing, what's your name?"... he smiled. "Don't you know??" I BLUSHED. "You should know by now, you've been following me for weeks..." And I knew. And the other two men were in fact some of the policemen. I wished earth would have swallowed me!!!!