Disclaimer: I don't own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.
According to his card, the elderly man was Nikos Alexiou, a professor emeritus of economics who had spent the last twenty years of his professional career teaching at the National and Kapodestrian University of Athens.
"I could have gone to Stamford or Cambridge", he explained, stroking his white, rather longish beard. "There have been offers. But it somehow felt wrong. I wanted to give something back to the country that raised me and provided me with everything I needed to become what I was. I've told students all my life that it's wrong to take resources from one country and make use of them to the benefit of another. What kind of a teacher would I have been, had I not lived what I was preaching?"
Ilsa felt a bit reminded of JK Rowling's Albus Dumbledore, the way Professor Alexiou was standing there, smiling at her, his snow white hair flowing freely down his shoulders, a twinkle in his eyes and nevertheless the air of a well-read scholar about him.
His lecture was going to be about corporate tax avoidance and he needed a ride or, more precisely, a flight to London. He must have overheard Winston making some reference regarding the jet waiting at the airport while they had been sitting with the poor banker.
Ilsa was glad to help out.
… ... …
When Ames heard about their travel companion, she expected a really dull flight. Surely the professor would give them an extended preview of his upcoming speech. Weren't all scholars like that? Those who she had met through working with the team had all loved to hear themselves talk. Even polite, shy Marybeth Tucker hadn't refrained from giving her a detailed introduction to the subtleties of the New Caledonian prefixes when she had made the mistake to ask what her next book would be about.
Ames had never gone to college. Truth to be told, she hadn't even finished high school. Sometimes when she watched Ash study, saw him – at fifteen! – slowly become more learned and knowledgeable than she'd ever be, she wondered if she was really missing out on something. Chance was so damn smart and knew so much about all sorts of stuff… would he one day get bored with her and turn to someone less dumb? Someone who had read all those books he had read?
On the other hand books just weren't her thing. Or sitting in a classroom, for that matter, listening to someone talk without end about stuff she would never need in real life. She could spend hours figuring out how to pick a certain lock or outwitting an alarm system. But lectures? At a college?
Ames wondered if Ilsa would make them attend the professor's speech once they were in London. As dead tired as she felt after the intermezzo in the financial district, the heartbreaking hours at the hospital with the dying banker and the overall worry about Chance who never took lightly to someone dying practically under his hands, she'd probably fall sound asleep the moment they sat down in what she imagined to be a darkened lecture hall, making a fool of herself and embarrassing the team.
When Professor Alexiou picked the seat in front of her, of all spots available in the jet, she inwardly groaned. He had probably sensed her illiteracy and wanted to do something about it to prepare her properly for her speech.
Instead he just said there, smiled at her and drank the tea Guerrero had made for him.
After a while Ames couldn't stand it anymore.
"You told Ilsa you knew a cure for Greece. What does corporate tax avoidance have to do with that? Are the Greeks in that mess because the companies didn't pay their taxes?"
He looked at her, his eyes twinkled and his smile broadened. "You are a very smart person", he said. "In a nutshell, you're absolutely right. See, some people see taxes as unlawful thievery. They regard tax collection as a modern form of robber baronry. What do you think about that point of view?"
Ames wondered if that was a gotcha question. It was way too easy to answer. "Taxes are supposed to finance public stuff – police, schools, roads, hospitals…"
The professor's appreciative smile made her smile, too.
"Absolutely correct. Now what happens if people don't pay their dues?" He chuckled. "I know you can answer the question, so I'll make it a little more difficult: Use the image of a snowball to explain it to me."
SNOWBALL? What the…?
Now Ames was at a loss. On the other hand she felt kind of challenged. He was confident she knew the answer. And she did, actually – if people stopped paying taxes the whole system of society broke down, just like they had witnessed firsthand in Greece mere hours ago. But what in the world did a snowball have to do with that?
An image of her childhood came back to her, a bright white ball, flying through the air, hitting Brody in the chest, him diving down and collecting snow from the ground for retaliation…
Maybe the image was wrong.
On the same day they had built a snowman in the yard of one of the foster families they had been stuck with. Brody had started rolling a snowball over the ground and it had grown and grown…
"The fewer taxes are paid, the more debts the government runs up", she said.
"Very good", the professor nodded. "But there's more to it."
More to it… more to it… Ames frowned, trying to think of another snowball effect.
"With low tax revenues the taxes will inevitably go up for the honest payers?", she ventured.
Again the professor nodded. "You're on a roll. Now one last aspect. I'm sure you'll figure that one out, too."
Oh that was tough. But Ames felt so proud of having solved so much of the question, she didn't want to fall short so close to getting it completely right.
What else could there be?
Oh yes, of course!
"The more people don't pay their taxes the less the honest payers feel inclined to keep coughing up… they jump ship and stop paying, too."
"You are a very smart young lady", the professor praised her. "Think about that last statement some more. What would frustrate you more? If your neighbor, an elderly lady with a small pension would stop paying taxes or if the company that built that impressive skyscraper in the center of the town and whose managers all have limousines with their own drivers at their command paid no taxes?"
Not that was a truly easy question!
Ames never got to answer it, though. The pilot announced that they were going to touch down, Ilsa came over to discuss some details regarding his accommodation with the professor (he needed a hotel room, too) and in no time they were out in the airport's underground parking garage, ready to get into two limousines ordered by Ilsa.
Just then a car suddenly shot past them, wheels screeching, engine howling – and someone from the passenger's seat shot at them. The attack came out of nowhere and although Chance and Guerrero both managed to hit the fleeing vehicle with a bullet, it escaped… and Professor Alexiou was lying dead on the ground.