BRYCE’S TRANS-CONTINENTAL flight arrived at Heathrow at 05:00, eighty minutes ahead of G’s.
The Aussie didn’t waste time. He’d also been at Heathrow Airport more times than he cared to remember. He went to shower off his travel fatigue. As per his practice, he dumped his used clothes in a bin in the fast-food area where garbage was frequently emptied. Operatives didn’t carry laundry.
It was at the food court that G found Bryce devouring food like there was no tomorrow. The geek stealthily approached.
‘Is this seat taken?’ he asked.
‘Depends on who’s asking.’
‘Am I not pretty enough?’
Bryce laughed.
‘Bloody sit your ugly mug down.’
He glanced at the time. ‘We’ve got an hour to kill, so grab something while you can.’
G went off in search of food and returned with a tray of salad. Br
