“Very good, sir. Enjoy the flight.”

II. Monday

Part II

Monday

4

There were no direct flights from Panama City to Bali, so Milton had plotted a slightly circuitous route. He flew Turkish Airlines to Istanbul and slept on a bench in the arrivals hall while he waited for the Garuda Indonesia flight that would depart later that day.

He freshened up in the bathroom and made his way to the check-in. There were two staffed counters: one for first- and business-class passengers, and one for everyone else. The only difference between the two desks was the long queue that snaked back from the latter. Milton joined the end of that line and relaxed. It didn’t matter to him how long he would have to wait. He was in no rush.

He passed the time people-watching. It was a habit that had been drummed into him and refined over his career, both in the military and in Group Fifteen. It wasn’t enough just to notice a person. You had to see them. See who they really were. He concentrated on a young family a few places ahead of him. They had a small child and all the accoutrements that came with taking an infant on an airplane. There were toys, wet wipes, bottles of milk. Milton looked at the faces of the parents. Children also came with fatigue, frustration and unqualified love, or so he had been told. He wondered for a moment why anyone with a toddler would consider long-haul travel. The faces of the other passengers nearby all mirrored his own emotions; there was curiosity, sympathy for the ordeal that the family was about to endure, and fear that they might be seated close to them. Milton was hoping for the chance to grab a little extra sleep, and hoped that he might have a few rows between him and them to insulate him from any disturbance.

There was a minor commotion behind him. Milton turned to see a small procession making its way down the empty waiting area for the first-class check-in desk. Leading the procession was an airport orderly, the old man trying his best to manoeuvre a trolley that had been piled high with designer suitcases. It looked as if one of the trolley wheels was broken, because the whole edifice jerked to the side every few feet. The orderly pushed the trolley past Milton and, right on cue, it gave its most significant wobble yet. The suitcase at the top of the pile slid forwards, toppled over the edge and crashed onto the floor at his feet.

Milton bent down to retrieve it. He picked it up, surprised at how light it was, and placed it back on top of the pile. The orderly smiled at him in gratitude and muscled the trolley back onto its original course. Milton straightened up and noticed that a woman was also smiling at him.