Chapter 32Roughly seven hundred miles south west of the Cornish coast, and just before the pilot began a steady descent through Portuguese airspace for their refuelling stop, the Gulfstream broke free of the thick blanket of cloud which covered half of northern Europe. The cloud base had been so thick, it seemed as if they were rushing across a snow-covered Arctic. It was certainly impossible to tell that they'd been jetting over towns and fields, followed by the Bay of Biscay and then northern Spain.
Inside the fuselage, in the plush passenger lounge, Namtar sat watching Sam Becker with interest, rolling a black disc about the size of a guitar plectrum over the backs of his knuckles. First one way, then the other, repeatedly. He never looked down to check his dexterity, the movement was
