THE PLANE FROM London arrived on schedule. While we waited for the passengers to get off, I finished telling Bradan, and the others, what had occurred in the last couple of days, leaving out the X-rated details.
“So, you really have it bad for this chick, huh?” asked Sean, scratching his goatee.
I watched as the passengers began to step out of the terminal. “You could say that.”
“So, what does this fella look like?” asked Bradan.
“He’s short and thick, with gray hair and a beard. He also wears glasses and I’d say he’s probably close to sixty,” I replied, looking through the crowd of people.
“What if he’s not on board?” asked Bradan. “What’ll you do, then?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Hopefully, Torin will find us something concrete and we’ll go from there.”
“Let’s hope,” he answered. “
