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Biff read these signals as quickly as if his uncle had given them to him verbally. Uncle Charlie wanted him to go with these men. Why, Biff didn’t know, of course, but he realized that his uncle must have a real purpose behind his strange action.

Outside the terminal, Biff was hustled into a black limousine. It was a long, sleek-looking foreign car, all windows tightly closed. Was this to prevent any outcry from being heard, Biff wondered? Or was it simply because the car was air-conditioned against the tropical heat?

As the car pulled away, Biff quickly glanced out of the rear window. He hoped to see his uncle pulling out in another car to follow. The streets, filled with tourists, honking cars, and cyclists blocked his vision. “Well, he must be following me,” Biff said to himself. “I hope,” he added.

Biff was in the rear seat with one of the men. The other was driving.

“You had the good trip from The Netherlands?” the man asked.

“From where?” For a moment Biff had forgotten the role he was playing; forgot he was impersonating Derek. “Oh, yes. Yes, very good,” he replied. “It was quite exciting, flying over the ocean.” Biff was careful not to mention which ocean.