77: The Wrong Kind of Clever

The networking book is heavy in command line stuff, which I’m not going to read. Here’s another chunk of the fiction project.

The driver had a postgraduate degree in Not Being Noticed. The black suit and tie oozed boredom. His smoothly-shaved face lacked a big nose, round lips, a jutting chin, or any other distinguishing trait. His freshly trimmed black hair was combed to perfection, his tie snug despite the heat. Heavy black sunglasses protected his eyes from the scorching light. If he’d been s...