MASK
Hogan wiped bits of shaving cream from his face. With a sigh, he looked into the mirror and studied the face staring back at him.
He looked worn out. Old. Grey crept in at the temples and dark circles formed under his eyes.
God, he was tired.
How much longer did he have to keep this up? London had promised liberation was in sight, but things were deteriorating rapidly. They had the capability to escape at any time, but orders were to stay. To keep working.
So they would.
Hogan put on his mask and became the effervescent leader again.