The Newton Prophecies

Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Camillin landed at Heathrow Airport at 8:57 in the morning. Sleep had not come easy on the flight. It never did. He tried, but struggled to squeeze in a few hours. It would have to do. He had to find DiBianco. There was no time to waste.
         Grabbing his rolling luggage from the belt, Camillin made strides for the pickup curb. He hoped his ride would already be waiting. Eleven hours was long enough doing nothing. He did not intend to wait a second longer.
         Amidst the slew of white shuttles and taxis was a shiny black Caddy, its windows where dark, like the government issued SUVs back home.
         The passenger-side window slid down.
         "Agent Camillin?" The Driver said.
         Camillin nodded.
         "Please. Get in, Sir."
         Camillin tossed his luggage in the back and jumped into the passenger's seat, keeping his laptop bag on his lap.
         "Have you eaten?" The driver said, holding up a bag of cheesy nacho chips.
         "No thanks. Just get me to headquarters."
         "Yes, Sir," he said, shoving another fistful in his mouth, crumbs littering his lap. The driver romped on the gas sending the Caddy rocketing into stiff morning traffic.
         Camillin grabbed tightly to what his ex-wife used to call the Oh Shit Handle--it was the only thing from that nightmare he retained--and prayed he'd survive.

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