Jack Fletcher sat in the first class carriage, his face concealed behind The Daily Telegraph. Beneath the newspaper, the man's crossed legs revealed a sharp, navy suit and expensive tan brogues. On his wrist, a Rolex indicated the time. He put the paper down.
12 o'clock sharp. He was about to meet the target.
Agent F strode purposefully down platform four and out onto the concourse. He identified the criminal immediately. The target was a bearded man; tall, stocky and carrying a brown leather attache case. Fletcher assumed correctly that this was where the assailant was concealing the kompromat...
Jack Fletcher had not spent his youth reading the Beano and Dandy like other boys his age; he had read books on gadgets, devices and all kinds of fascinating contraptions.