"OK, we're off!"
"To England?"
"Of course! But first of all we've got to get on the plane. By the way, you were great--well done!"
We got into the departures area at 11:30 a.m. Still several hours to go before the first possible flight, British Airways flight 216 to Heathrow at 5:10.
I went to a phone and, using the numbers in the airport magazine, called each airline in turn to check seat availability.
The British Airways flight was fully booked. So was United Airways 918 at 6:10, the BA at 6:10, and the United at 6:40. I eventually managed to find two spare seats on a flight with Virgin at 6:45, and gave all the details of Mr. Glazar, who was on his way to the airport right now. Payment was courtesy of the details for Big Al's plastic on the car rental form.
I wandered past the Virgin desk and found it didn't open until 1:30 p.m. One and a half hours to sit and sweat.
Christian Glazar was a little older than me, and his shoulder-length hair was starting to go gray. My hair was just below the ear, and brown. Thankfully, his passport was four years old.
To the delight of Kelly and the terminal's barbershop owner, I underwent a number one crew cut, coming out looking like a US Marine.
We then went into the travel store and bought a pack of painkillers that claimed to be the answer to female pains.
Judging by the list of ingredients, they were certainly the answer for me.
All the time, I kept hoping that the police had assumed the motive for the theft was money and had left it to the Glazars to report the cards and passports missing rather than pursuing the matter further. I didn't want to turn up at the ticket sales desk and be jumped on by several hundred pounds of cop.
Still thirty minutes to go before we could check in. One more thing to do.
"Kelly, we have to go to the bathroom up here for a while."
"I don't need to go."
"It's for me to get into my disguise. Come and see."
We went to the handicap toilet in departures and closed the door. I took out Sarah's glasses. They were gold-framed and had lenses as thick as the bottom of Coke bottles. I tried them on. The frames weren't big enough but they looked OK.. I turned to Kelly and crossed my eyes. Then I had to stop her laughing.
I took the painkillers out of the duffel.
"I'm going to swallow these and they're going to make me ill. But it's for a reason, OK?"
She wasn't quite sure.
I took six capsules and waited. The hot flashes started, then the cold sweats. I put my hands up to show it was OK as the contents of my stomach flew out of my mouth into the toilet bowl.
Kelly watched in amazement as I rinsed out my mouth in the basin. I looked at myself in the mirror. Just as I'd hoped, I looked as pale and clammy as I felt. I took two more.
There were few customers at the long line of check-in desks and only one woman on duty at Virgin Atlantic ticket sales.
She was writing something so her head was down as we approached.
She was in her mid-twenties and beautiful, with relaxed hair pulled back in a bun.
"Hello, the name's Glazar." Because of the vomiting my voice was lower and coarse.
"There should be two tickets for me." I tried to look disorganized and flustered.
"Hopefully, my brother-in-law has booked them?" My eyes looked to the sky in hope.
"Sure, do you have a reference number?"
"Sorry, he didn't give me one. Just Glazar, Christian Glazar" She tapped that out and said, "That's fine, Mr. Glazar, two tickets for you and Louise. How many bags are you checking in?"
I had the laptop on my shoulder and the duffel in my hand.
I dithered, as if working out if I'd need the laptop on the flight.
"Just this one." I put the bag on the scale. It didn't weigh much, but it was bulked up respectably with the blanket.
"Could I see your passport, please?"
I looked in all my pockets without apparent success. I didn't want to produce Glazar's documents right away.
"Look, I know we were lucky to get seats at all, but is it possible to make sure we're sitting together?" I leaned a little closer and half-whispered, "Louise hates flying."
Kelly and I exchanged glances.
"Everything's going to be OK.," I told her. My voice dropped again.
"We're on a bit of a mercy mission."
I looked down at Kelly and back at the woman, my face pained.
"Her grandmother^ ..." I let it hang, as if the rest of the sentence would be too terrible for a little girl's ears.
"I'll see what I can do, sir."
She was hitting the keys other PC at such a speed it looked as if she were bluffing. I put the passport on top of the counter. She looked up and smiled. "No problem, Mr.
Glazar;' "That's marvelous" But I still wanted to keep the conversation going.
"I wonder, would it be possible for us to use one of your lounges? It's just that, after my chemotherapy, I tire very easily. We've been rushing around today and I don't feel too good. I only have to knock myself and I start bleeding " She looked at my scabs and pale complexion and under stood. There was a pause, then she said, "My mother went through chemo for cancer of the liver. The therapy worked;
after all that pain she came through "
I thanked her for her concern and her message of support.
Now just get me into the lounge, out of the fucking way!
"Let me find out." Smiling at Kelly, she picked up the phone and spoke. After several seconds of weird airline vocabulary she looked at me and nodded.
"That's fine, sir. We share facilities with United. I'll fill out an invitation."
I thanked her as she reached for the passport. I hoped that by now she knew me so well it was just a formality. She flicked it open; I turned away and talked to Kelly, telling her how exciting it was going to be, flying to see Grandma.
I heard, "You'll be boarding at about five-thirty." I looked up, all smiles.
"Go to Gate C. A shuttle will take you to the lounge. You both have a pleasant flight."
"Thank you so much. Come on then, Louise, we've got a plane to catch!" I let Kelly walk on a few steps, then turned and said, "I just hope Grandma can wait for us." She nodded knowingly.
All I wanted to do now was get through Customs. First hurdle was security. Kelly went through first, and I followed.
No alarms. I had to open up the laptop and switch it on to prove it worked, but I'd been expecting that. All the Flavius files were now in a folder called Games.
We went straight to Gate C, walked through, and got on the shuttle bus. There was a five-minute wait while the bus filled up, then the doors closed, the hydraulics lowered, and we drove about half a mile across the tarmac to the departures lounge proper.
The area was plush and busy. I heard a lot of British accents, mixed in with snatches of German and French. Kelly and I headed for the United lounge, via a detour to the candy stall.
We sat quietly with a large cappuccino and a Coke. Unfortunately, the downtime just gave me a while to think about whether I'd made any mistakes.
A security man walked into the reception area and talked to the people at the desk. My heart beat faster. We were so close to the aircraft on the other side of the glass that I felt I could reach out and touch them. I could almost smell the aviation fuel.
I told myself to calm down. If they'd wanted us, they would have found us by now.
But, in truth, so many things could still go wrong that one of them almost certainly would. I was still sweating away. My head was glistening. And I didn't know if it was the capsules or my worrying, but I was starting to feel weak.
"Nick, am I Louise all day today or just for now?"
I pretended to think about it.
"The whole day. You're Louise Glazar all day."