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Special Clearance

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“Why aren’t we using the chopper?” Roy asked, nearly the fiftieth time the question had been asked in as many minutes.

Lorrimer sighs and answers Roy with patience the repetition didn’t deserve, and that should earn him a knighthood.

“Because, Roy, Suki isn’t in the country. She’s in the Himalayas, as you well know, and Sir Max doesn’t have... well, he wont fly the helicopter.”

“Chopper!” Roy says indignantly, Sir Maxwell’s hatred for the full name now ingrained in Roy.

“So why are we using this charter firm?”

“Because Sir Maxwell knows a man who uses this firm when he watches the six nations.”

“And they know about what we do? And have been allowed to fly into a remote European city (if we can even call it that) that doesn’t like planes?”

“They’ve been given special clearance to do so, as long as they just drop us off and leave. And no, they don’t know anything.”

After a few moments of silence, which Lorrimer is immensely grateful for, Roy asks yet another question.

“How are we getting out of the country afterwards?”

“We phone them. I think.”

“Glad to know you’ve planned this to your normal degree of excellence.”

“I didn’t plan this! There wasn’t time to plan it! Sir Maxwell planned it!”

Lorrimer’s rant is cut short as the car was pulling up to the smallest airfield in the country, and the driver directs the pair of them towards a small hut that apparently doubles as the airlines departure lounge.

Roy starts on yet another tirade about the airlines competency, and Lorrimer has no choice but to listen to his complaints until the steward leaves the hut and enthusiastically waves them over.