Alexander deplaned from a flight that had arrived from Italy. He had traveled first class and therefore was one of the first passengers to walk into the terminal from this flight.
He checked his coat pocket making sure that his passport was in it, and quickly walked towards the Immigration counter, to get it stamped.
Subconsciously, his other hand reached into his trouser pocket to check whether the small plastic packet of 6g of heroin, that he was carrying was present and safe.
The death penalty in this country was 2g for trafficking and a minimum of four years in prison for consuming.
Alexander was an addict.
He was also the brother of one of the most wanted man on the lists of Interpol and CBI.
He was not nervous. Far from it, he was confident. He was just checking to see if the packet was safe. After all being the brother of one of the most wanted man, had its perks, like not worrying about the law, not worrying about money etc. etc.
He was craving to have a poke, and was already aware that the effects of the seven stiff double pegs of alcohol he had had on the approximately 6 hours flight from Italy, was fast disappearing. To an addict, like Alexander, his need to be in a constant state of euphoria was an absolute necessity.
He looked around to see if he could sneak into a toilet and have a quick shot. And there it was, in one corner of the Immigration Hall, but, he then changed his mind and decided to wait till he cleared Immigration.
Traveling first class always has its perks. Before he reached the counter he was met by a ground hostess of the airline and she collected his passport and walked towards the counter to complete the proceedings and get it stamped.
As she walked away with his passpor...
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...ved. Anyways I will make inquiries. How is business?”
“It is good, Sir.”
“OK. Send me the details.”
He hung up the phone and frowned again.
He now called his man at the airport and informed him that Alexander had boarded from Italy, and therefore must have been delayed inside the airport here. He also told him to make discreet inquiries about Alexander’s whereabouts. Having done that, he once again busied himself in his activities.
About two hours later, the man called again, from the airport, having made inquiries and now aware of the circumstances. He explained the situation to the Don.
Don Cantino was livid. Alex, as he fondly called his brother, was his only living relative, and Cantino was, very fond of him, also owing him his life, which Alexander had protected in the past.
Don Cantino immediately picked up the phone and called a number.