For days, officers communicated with Dykes through a plastic pipe that rose up from the bunker, which was similar to a tornado shelter and apparently had running water, heat and cable television.
It gave me a whiff of a reminder of snowball fights as a kid in Stoke Lodge park in Bristol followed by a game of football played with an orange Frido ball that got punctured in the rose bushes but then repaired by Dad smearing a hot knife over the plastic.