Giles rolled out of business class and into the rain and cold. He had been under the vague impression that Texas was hot, but apparently not in December. There were Christmas adverts everywhere and the same hideous Christmas jingles that had been playing at Heathrow and at New York. And waiting by the luggage claim was Riley Finn, looking very military despite his civilian clothes. Giles wondered vaguely how they had missed seeing that in Sunnydale.
“Riley, dear boy, so kind of you…”
“Under orders.”
“Kind none the less. How’s Samantha?”
“Still in DC with the kids, holding down the Pentagon desk while I…”
“Dance attendance on the Sun King?”
“Something like that. How was your flight?”
“Transatlantic flights, even without a further journey piled on top of it, are always ghastly.”
“Jet lagged?”
“Somewhat.”
“Why didn’t you just have Willow…”
“Bibbity-bobbity-boo? I try not to overstrain her. There are Watchers who would take advantage of her to go shopping. I have to set an example… Beside, I don’t want to alarm the Secret Service. They do check everyone who gets to see the President-Elect, don’t they?”
“They’ve been told not to dig too deep in your case.”
“None the less, they aren’t going to be able to ignore it if I just turn up and am seen back in the UK an hour or so later.”
“Can see that.”
Riley paused as they reached his car and loaded Giles’ luggage into the back.
“You’re scheduled to see him tomorrow afternoon. You think you can sleep off the jetlag by then?”
“Oh, Lord yes. That will be fine. How… How is he taking… the things he’s learned?”
Riley grimaced and looked away.
“Oh, come on! You were one of the ones chosen to brief him, weren’t you?”
“As a matter of fact… Well, at first he was puzzled. Wanting to deny what we showed him. Suspicious.”
“And now he’s had time to think about it?”
“He’s ummm. He’s pissed.”
“Oh. Oh dear.”
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