Thunder Chapter 2.
Birkoff took a taxi to the airport, running his plan through his mind a few times. He sat back as the cab moved through the building traffic. He purchased a plane ticket and smiled broadly at the ticket agent. He'd splurged on a first class ticket. This was a start. He rarely spent any of his money so, why not? he thought. When the plane landed at Heathrow, he went through customs and entered the airport terminals. He moved along with the crowds and startled to realize that he wasn't afraid! What next? An ad on the wall caught his eye. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the hotel pictured. "Flying first class, why not stay first class?" He thought. Grinning more than he had for a long time, he took one of the black London cabs to an elegant hotel. That evening, Birkoff went to eat in the dining room. Using a new perspective, he looked around, and realized he was woefully underdressed. On his way to the elevator he spied a stack of magazines on a table in the lounge. His next step popped into his head. He stopped at the newsstand, picked up a few men's fashion magazines and some snacks (some things he wouldn't change). He returned to his room and ordered room service. He laughed out loud as he settled in, waiting for his meal. He flipped through the magazines and found what he was looking for. Room service arrived and he tipped the man generously. He made a phone call, kicked off his shoes and devoured his dinner. He fell asleep amid the snack wrappers and magazines and dreamed of Lolly.
The next morning, he took a taxi to Harrods and his appointment with a personal shopper.
The young lady he was introduced to barely hid her dismay at his appearance.
"How can I help you Mr. Birkoff." She asked.
"I need a complete makeover. I just landed my dream job and I start in two weeks. I want to look the part." He replied, improvising madly. She grinned and led him to a private room. After taking all his measurements, she settled him into a comfy chair, armed with a TV remote, a fresh pot of tea and some warm scones and left to gather some clothing and accessories. He chuckled when he was alone and settled in to watch BBC. The tea was beyond him, but the scones were delicious. She returned with a rolling rack full of elegant, subdued men's fashion. At first, he was clueless. As he looked over the clothes again, they reminded him of someone. He grinned and began pulling things out to try on. Keeping Michael in mind, Birkoff used the level 5 operative's cool sophistication as a guide.
"No, I don't think you should wear all black. You can be very intimidating in all black. " the young lady said as they studied his reflection. "You look far better in earth tones." She announced. Birkoff took her advice and chose the warmer colors. He departed dressed in clothes unlike any he had ever worn before. He told the shopper to choose more and that he would be back tomorrow to review the selections. He then got himself outfitted with contact lenses and a pair of deadly cool sunglasses. He had made a huge dent in his bank account but didn't care. That evening, seated in the dining room of his hotel, he marveled at the change his appearance made in the attitude of the wait staff. He indulged in a delicious dinner and smiled as beautiful women gave him the once over twice. He was on to something he decided.