Thirty years ago, Trevor Lock wrestled a man to the floor and held a gun to his head as he begged for mercy. Today, it is hard to reconcile that Trevor Lock with the softly spoken man gazing out of the window at his well-tended garden. The deep hollows under his bright blue eyes are the only giveaway that he is something more than a contented pensioner; the only hint that he is plagued by...
The private trauma of Constable Lock, quiet hero of the Iranian embassy siege
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