Soul Trader by Bell Steve

Author:Bell, Steve [Bell, Steve]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Strategic Book Group
Published: 2010-05-18T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

It was a typical damp, overcast, October morning when Falcon’s plane hit the tarmac at Heathrow. The pilot threw the four vast Rolls Royce engines into reverse thrust to bring the flying beast to a manageable speed suitable for parking up. Now he was awake! Even at just after six in the morning, the flight traffic was already creating log jams at Heathrow, just like most days. He knew there would be further chaos inside the terminal as he joined the crowds of tired holidaymakers struggling with irritable children suffering from lack of sleep, all trying to get to the front of the baggage carousel. Falcon was lucky in that regard. As he had no luggage except the little rucksack he still had on his person, once through the snake line at immigration he was away.

Twenty minutes later, he was in the arrivals hall, the eager crowds readily assembled to welcome back loved ones. There was no-one for him. Just as well as nobody should know where he was. He changed his last five hundred dollars into sterling at the Bureau De Change and set off for the train to take him back to London, the Heathrow Express, which ran into Paddington Station on a regular basis, so irrespective of time, he would not have long to wait before he was once again homeward bound. Once back in Central London it was easy to jump on the Circle or District Line tube and get back to his home district. He needed to get back to his flat and his bed. Any other business would keep another day at least.

Falcon had himself a modest flat, also in the Notting Hill area, not far from where he spent the best part of his childhood. Although he grew up in the area, he didn’t wish to keep his parents' house after their death. However, he did buy as an investment, the apartment, which when he was not able to live there was rented out to provide a growing but modest investment fund. Once he knew he was nearing completion of his military services, he decided he would like the place back for himself. Free from being saddled with the debt burden of a mortgage for London property, Falcon never really needed a significant income to sustain a reasonable, although never flamboyant, lifestyle. The investment fund was dwindling, albeit slowly, but his property asset was rising sharply in value. If needed, he was not so emotionally attached to the place that he could not sell it.

He was feeling the cold long before reaching home. Dressed only with a thin pullover, he had already acclimatised to the African heat and humidity. He retrieved his door key from his neighbour who had been keeping it safe for him whilst he was away and set off upstairs to his own apartment. It was all alarmed so he knew the neighbour would not bother with his place. She was a kindly old soul who Falcon often ran errands for when she needed.

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