sir, but you'll have to wait—"
"Just sell me a ticket, dammit."
The harried agent barely looked up. "I'm afraid that's out of the question. Now if you'll just take—"
"There's a woman who may be on it," he lifted up the empty leather suitcase, "and she left this at the hotel."
"The equipment is already preparing to leave the gate." He glanced at the screen, then turned to a pile of tickets he was methodically sorting. "So if you'd please—"
"Let me check the manifest." He'd stepped over the baggage scale, nudging the agent aside. "To make double sure she's aboard. Maybe I can try and locate her in Lon¬don."
"Sir!" The young Englishman paled. "You're not allowed to—"
"Just take a second." Vance ignored his protest and punched up the flight on the computer.
It was a 757, completely full. And there she was, in seat 18A, second cabin.
Thank God she'd made it.
While the outraged British Airways agent was frantically calling for airport security, he scanned more of the file.
Alex Novosty was aboard