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Glen thought to himself. I knew that it was a seventy odd mile run out the the small airfield where the private jet was waiting for us, so I settled down in my seat and tried to relax as best I could.As the plane crossed the coast of Britain, I looked down and said 'goodbye' to the land of my birth. As the steward handed me a glass of champagne, I turned my attention back to the interior and what was going on. This was like no other aeroplane I'd ever been in. No rows of seats here with everyone squashed together like sardines. No, here there was just a smattering of large, leather easy chairs bolted to the floor. Mr Foster, myself and the two goons were the only passengers while a crew of three stewardesses and one steward were on hand to look after us. All four of the cabin staff must have been chosen not only for their skills but also for their physical perfection. I could hardly take my eyes off the steward. A blonde, blue-eyed, six foot two tall muscular god, what a hunk! I smiled at him and he smiled.
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