“Drinks, sir?” James looked up from his laptop and smiled at the flight attendant, a middle aged woman with cherry red hair. “You wouldn’t happen to have some Gewürztraminer, would you?” He asked politely. It was a French wine so it would be unlikely that they would have it on a British aeroplane, but he was flying first class so it couldn’t hurt to try. The flight attendant gave a curt smile and said, “I’ll get a glass to you right away, sir.” She left and James returned to his laptop. He was working on his book, an espionage novel to end all espionage novels… or so he sincerely hoped. James always had his medical degree to fall back on if the publishers didn’t like it, but writing was his true passion, medical career be damned. If he could, he would drop out of med school and content himself with writing out of his flat in London, but his parents would surely have his guts for garters. They wanted a respectable doctor for a son, not some struggling author. He finished the paragraph, killing a Russian agent with a few quick flourishes on his key board, and then pressed save. He sat back with a sigh of content and gazed out the window with his brooding brown eyes. Clouds drifted by in the clear azure sky, giving no indication as to the dazzling speed that the aeroplane was traveling at. [i]A guy could get used to this life, [/i]James thought to himself. He didn’t grow up with luxury and wealth, but he certainly had an affinity for it. James was dressed stylishly, in a newly purchased stone grey suit, white shirt, and polished black oxfords. On his wrist was a new watch. It had a stainless steel case and strap with a textured black dial. The new clothes fit James well. He was five foot eleven inches and athletically built having done football in high school, though his musculature has declined since then. His hair was of a deep chocolate brown and was cut short, in the style typical of a university student. The Gewürztraminer was delivered to him, and James took small sips of the wine, savoring the light fruity flavor mixed with the slight burning sensation of alcohol. James had given up on the idea of the trip being a scam, what sort of scam involved five thousand quid and a first class ticket to Sweden? He had done in a quick search on the internet-- he always did his research--but it had yielded nothing of interest for Woll manor. That should have raised a few alarm flags for James… but the money was just too good. James stared down at his half empty glass, he should be getting back to work. But at the same time he just wanted to enjoy this new found luxury while it lasted. He could always write when he had some down time at the manor. James ignored the tiny voice in the back of his head that was telling him to stop being so lazy and tucked his laptop into a small rucksack underneath his seat. Then he settled into his seat for a quick film before they landed in Sweden. ---- Something was very wrong. James could feel the panic rising in his throat. It was like a wild storm that grew stronger and stronger inside of him. James always tried to keep a shell of confidence and cool on the outside, but even he was finding it hard to keep his calm now. Where the [b]hell[/b] was his luggage? James couldn’t believe it. Why did these kinds of things only seem to happen to him? Everything he had purchased… gone! James turned around scanning the crowd for an airport official, police officer, friendly face, anyone!... [i]James H. Welch [/i] His eyes found his own name, printed neatly across an eraser board. Holding it with gloved hands, was an emotionless tall man dressed in formal attire. Surprised, James made his way towards him. “Um yes excuse me?” James said timidly to the man as he pointed to his name on the board, “I believe that’s for me.” The man gave a polite nod to him. “James Welch, sir?” His words had a slight accent, but James couldn’t decide if it had the lilt of a Swede. “Yes, that would be me.” He lowered the board and gestured with his arm. “If you would follow me. The others are waiting.” “But my luggage-“ “Already taken care of, sir. It will all be in the limousine.” Assured, James followed the man, easily keeping pace with his long strides. James felt sheepish about his earlier panic. He had always been a bit of a neurotic type. He should have known that the luggage would have already been taken care of. These people really had thought of everything. As he felt his heart rhythm slow from a raging tempo to a monotonous throb, he began to enjoy himself more. Even inside the airport, he could feel the comforting chill of northern Europe breathing down his spine. He was used to the cold as he grew up in London. Nevertheless, he wore a dark navy overcoat over his suit as well as a pale blue scarf. Keeping his hands warm were a pair of suede aviator gloves, complete with fur lining. James was intrigued by the many signs and images for Swedish goods. He would certainly have to buy a souvenir later. Would the Manor provide Swedish Krona for them to spend or would he have to convert the leftover quid that he had brought with him? Suddenly James locked eyes with a man standing near the loo. His eyes were of an icy blue variety that stopped James dead in his tracks. Before he could do anything, the man materialized next to him and whispered into his ear, “Meet me in the bathroom.” “And what if I decline?” James asked. But the man was already gone. Feeling more than a bit weird, James debated on whether he should follow the dodgy fellow. It could be important, or it could be a trap. For all James knew, there could be a dozen men waiting in the loo for him armed with KG-9’s and Sig Sauer’s. James could be knocked over the head and stuffed into a suitcase to be smuggled off for ransom or sold into slavery in some desolate eastern European country. Curiosity got the best of James however, and he turned to the chauffeur who didn’t seem to have noticed the brief encounter. “Excuse me, but do you mind if I use the loo?” James asked. --- James exited the loo feeling a bit shaken. He slipped the item that the stranger had passed to him into his inner coat pocket and smoothed the front of his suit. There just wasn’t something right about this whole situation. The plane tickets, the money, now dodgy encounters with strange men? He was in over his head. James wasn’t a secret agent, he was just a University student with an over active imagination. But it was too late, he had committed. If he left now, he would most likely find himself being garroted in his sleep. The chauffeur had been waiting outside the loo and without saying a word he continued to lead James out of the airport. Parked by the curb like a ray of shadow was a jet black limousine. The chauffeur opened the door for James and took his rucksack containing his laptop. “Please help yourself to anything you need,” he said with a bow, “the other will join you shortly.” James thanked him and stepped into the cool interior of the limousine. Inside, two women were already quietly chatting among themselves. James smoothly withdrew a bottle of Heineken from the mini fridge before seating himself across from the two women. He gave an encouraging smile to them, trying to hide his uneasiness behind a mask of confidence and charm. Whatever lay ahead of them, they were in this together.