Part Three
Eamon could feel the beads of sweat on his forehead as he walked away from passport control. His shaking fingers had opened the briefcase at the gate and he was sure the officer had noticed. Of course, he hadn’t and was still holding a conversation with his colleague.
He put the passport back in the case and walked toward the X-ray machine. If he was to be caught, he’d rather it was here in London. He looked around as he joined the short queue to put his bag on the conveyor belt. There were a number of male and female uniformed guards in the area and he noticed the security camera’s on the walls. He was certain they were watching him and he felt hot and sweaty.
There were two X-ray machines in operation and he looked at the guards at each. One was a rather butch looking woman and the other, a young man with a moustache and a belly that spilled over the top of his trousers.
He chose the butch woman.
He laid the briefcase and the small travel bag on the belt and walked through the arch. Momentarily he was relieved when the case was not in his hand. He could have left it there on the belt and swear he was only carrying the travel bag.
No ... that wouldn’t work.
His bags were mixed with some other hand luggage and Eamon bent over to pick them up.
“Can you open this up, please, sir?” said one of the officials.
A wave of panic rushed over him. He could feel the sweat on his back.
“Pardon?” he asked.
“The travel bag, sir. Would you open it up for me?” the guard asked.
Eamon nervously unzipped the bag. It was sticking.
“I’m sorry. The zip always sticks,” he said.
“No problem, sir,” said the guard as he rummaged around the bag.
Eamon picked up the briefcase and put it on the floor between his legs. The guard pulled out Eamon’s personal stereo and asked if he would open the battery compartment.
Eamon thought this a strange request. His hands only appeared to be shaking slightly but his face felt like it was on fire. The guard was happy that the small compartment only contained batteries and was clearly not that interested. He then turned his attention to the woman next to him.
He walked into the departure lounge feeling relieved though faint. He followed the sign for the men’s toilet without looking behind him and went straight into a lock-up. He sat on the bowl with the briefcase on his lap, pulled some tissue from the dispenser and patted his face dry. The tissue was soaked.
A few deep breaths afterward and it then felt safe to leave the relative security of the toilets. He wondered whether or not they had security cameras in them.
Eamon made his way to the bar feeling slightly more relaxed and bought an over-priced brandy and a pint of lager. He downed the brandy in one and settled back on the seat. He took a cigarette from his jacket pocket, lit it and drew deeply. Eamon rarely smoked but always liked to carry them. His imagination was running wild. Had he been caught, he would explain it to the authorities without mentioning Nick and Sally. What would the penalty be? So many years in prison, perhaps? He’d lose his job and would possibly never be allowed to teach again but the worse thing was that the one person he had ever loved would be lost. Besides, if Fabrier was right, they may not have been aware of exactly what the drug was and he might just have to suffer a lecture. That was really just a pipe dream.
He breathed deeply. It was just impossible to relax. Nick’s image flashed through his mind and he remembered how nervous and clumsy he was on the first day they had been alone together. He recalled that day, how he had stood at his bedroom window overlooking Nick’s garden watching him work. He wanted Nick then and he wanted him now.
The flight flashed onto the monitor advising the departure gate but Eamon was still lost in thought. He tried rationalising the dilemma he found himself in and tried to make himself agree that he was doing the right thing in the circumstances. It sickened him to think that anything could happen to Nick and Sally as a result of his actions. He still doubted Bulmer. Would he really somehow hurt Nick and an innocent child? No, it was unlikely but he was not prepared to take that risk and if he could just get through this it would soon be over.
Eventually a tannoy message asked for the remaining passengers for the flight to proceed to the departure gate. He took a couple of deep breaths and made his way to the place. He needed to use the toilet again but there was not enough time. He had to open the case again and take out his boarding card but he was not quite as nervous. The hardest part would be customs at Charles de Gaulle in Paris.
He was one of the last passengers on the plane and had no intention of letting the briefcase out of his sight. The stewardess insisted that both items of hand luggage be put in the overhead compartments yet most of these were already full. The small travel bag and case were both put in the compartment on the opposite aisle. Eamon imagined that the cocaine or whatever it was would spill out during the flight and cover the plane and passengers. Though that was impossible it worried him. After the plane had taken off, he took the briefcase out and slipped it down by his feet. He was more comfortable when he could see it.
Air France flight AF1034 was on time when it touched down at Charles de Gaulle airport. The passengers were relieved when it came to a standstill. Eamon started sweating.
He retrieved his travel bag and joined the queue to get off the aircraft. He wanted the majority of the other passengers to go ahead of him in the hope that the customs officers would be occupied when it came to his turn to pass through customs control.
“Votre passeport, s’il vous plait,” said the officer.
Eamon opened the briefcase and handed the official the document. His hands were shaking again.
“Merci, monsieur.”
He made his way to the customs hall and stood by the carousel, awaiting his case. The customs officers were standing around waiting in the various channels. He was now very nervous and wanted his case to be last.
“Shit,” he thought when he saw that his case was the first to come out.
He retrieved the case and got a trolley which was close by. He loaded this with the briefcase on top.
The air-conditioning did not seem to be working as all the passengers were hot. This was fortunate but Eamon did not want to remove his jacket as the sweat on his back might have drawn unwanted attention. He pushed the trolley toward the customs channel.
Most of the douaniers were occupied except for the one who appeared to be staring straight at him. He was now sweating profusely.
“I’m caught,” he thought and considered running.
“Excuse-moi, madame. Votre valise, s’il vous plait.”
The officer was talking to the woman beside him.
He shivered as he walked away from the customs hall. The panic was over. That was the hardest part.
The plain clothes officer spoke to him in English as he put his hand on Eamon’s shoulder.
“Good evening, sir. Would you mind coming with me, please?” he asked.
The second officer was beside them and they led Eamon and the trolley into a side room.