The elderly grandfather shuffled his way across the concourse of the airport terminal, his black lacquered walking stick tap-tap-tapping on the tiled floor as he made his way. The freshly laundered black suit and blue shirt he wore had been delivered to his door that very morning by an anonymous courier; the dark reflective sunglasses he"d provided himself.
He was paid a handsome monthly stipend by the men who represented the Raven and his organisation, and the money had helped pay off the debts from his gambling addiction. For this money, all he had to do was… nothing. Just sit and wait until the call came for him to provide a "service". Exactly what that service would be, he didn"t know and he wasn"t foolish enough to ask questions, especially if it threatened his monthly fee. Along wit
