He wanted the truth.
So he had arrived before sunrise, entered the terminal through the public doors, and joined the same line as everyone else.
For nearly forty minutes, nobody noticed him.
That was exactly the point.
At 8:59, the line moved.
A woman in her seventies stepped toward the counter.
The employee serving her was a woman in her early thirties with blonde hair pulled into a tight bun.
Her badge read:
CLAIRE DONOVAN
"Passport," Claire said.
The elderly woman handed it over.
Claire scanned it.
Then frowned.
"Your checked bag is overweight."
The woman looked surprised.
"Really?"
"Six pounds."
"But I weighed it before I left home."
Claire shrugged.
"Then your scale was wrong."
The woman looked toward the side of the terminal.
"Could I take something out?"
"You can repack over there."
She pointed toward a small area beside the wall.
The elderly woman looked at her suitcase.
"I don't think I can lift it."