Ricey Bob sat nonchalently in the
departure lounge, reading a cheap
Or so it appeared.
The paperback itself concealed a small
laptop, minus keyboard and mouse.
Casting his eyes around him, he sought
the face of the man he was seeking -
Alex the Florist
was a man of many faces,
but the up-to-date image library on
Bob's laptop contained photographs of
every disguise Alex had worn over the
Fingering his false beard, Ricey Bob was
grateful to UnaBubTech for letting him
beta-test their soon-to-be-fameless
'keybeard' input device. Tap, tap,
flicked through a dozen recent photos,
comparing them with the faces around
Tap, tap....wait! Back...yes, that one!
face in the photograph was small and
indistinct, but it had the same profile as
the gentleman in the suede vest and
neck sweater sitting not more than two
yards from him. Ricey Bob strained to
make out more detail in the image
appearing consipicuous. He needed to
zoom, but no easy pattern of keyboard
strokes would accomplish this, and
plugging a mouse into his "paperback"
would be as conspicuous as it was cruel.
Thank goodness, he thought, for the
Buchanananonymous mousetache that
he was wearing. Twisting his mouth to
left as if in thought, he wrinkled his nose
to click-and-drag, bringing his lips
and up to sweep out the rectangle
the face. A quick relaxation of the nose,
another facial tic and a quick nostril-flare
and he'd selected "zoom".
Yes, no doubt about it now, the man
sitting opposite him was indeed Alex the
Florist. He'd lost a lot of weight since the
photo was taken, and had become much
less pixellated, but there was no
him. Alex the Florist would soon be
pushing up the daisies.
Now to email Joanna Coffee to let her
know everything was going well. He
wondered if this airport had pubic WiFi