He tapped his heavy silver watch against the metal pole three more times.

“If the military exemption is missing, find it,” Caldwell demanded.

“We’re closing this deal today.

Have the papers waiting in conference suite B12 when I land.”

The younger man shifted his dark leather briefcase back to his right hand and took a small step forward.

“Mr.

Caldwell, the gate agent is standing up,” he said.

Caldwell turned around and glared at him.