“Are you Bruce?”
At the arrival gate, a middle-aged man with a typical Mediterranean hairline held up a sign and looked at the tall, well-built young man with a polite smile on his face with suspicion. The young man wore a pair of rimless white gold glasses and looked neat and tidy, as if he had stepped out of the cover of a British magazine.
“Yes, that’s me.” Bruce pushed his glasses up and smiled modestly.
To put the “allies” here at ease, he had carefully dressed up before leaving. The glasses, tie, gentle tone, and hint of scholarly charm made for an impeccable “disguise.”
During the flight, he had received notes from flight attendants, businesswomen, and even a few elegantly dressed British men. He tossed all the contact information into the trash—he wasn't here to flirt.
The mid
