It’s been a long time since you’ve gone abroad. You take your window seat on the plane, and smile. Arrival at Cyprus was some 13 hours away, but you figure it’s well worth it. All the beautiful bodies tanned by the summer sun, the hot white sand underneath your heels, two weeks will be more than enough time for you.

A man takes a seat next to you, clad in an expensive business suit and skinny black tie. Thoughts come into your mind, as does jealousy. He has the same Rolex Submariner as you, and you can’t stand the thought of it, like two women wearing the same dress at wedding. You turn your head to the window, and notice the plane picking up speed and getting ready to lift off.

The man taps your shoulder. He leans in closer to your ear, making you slightly uncomfortable.

He whispered, “Take the first plane back. There’s going to be tension between the Greeks and the Turks about some disputed natural resources. I know this because I’m part of a group who’s going to make this happen.”

Like an afterthought he then added quietly, “It’s going to get messy.”

Not another word from him for the rest of the flight. You didn’t figure there would be others helping you do the dirty work with Cyprus. You wonder if he’s told anyone else, and consider your options. Loose lips sink ships and all that.


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