“Yeah,” I say. “Yeah. Fine. Thanks.”
Except for this damn existential crisis. Can I blame this shit on pregnancy hormones?
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The airport does have a convenience store, but it’s closed. I groan out loud when I see the metal gate pulled down. Blue whines and sits next to me. “I’m sorry, boy,” I say, laying a hand on his head. “I’m hungry, too.”
I pull out the bottle of water I brought from the hotel and Blue’s collapsible bowl, giving him the last of it. He laps thirstily, leaving just a little at the bottom. “We’ll be home soon,” I promise.
We wait outside, the empty building depressing for its lack of food. Dawn bleeds pinkish-gray into the edge of the world and the cool mist of morning settles onto the tarmac. I pull out the phone Robert gave me. There is nothing from him. I’ll have to trash it before I board the Joyful Justice flight. Dan would kill me if I brought this thing home.
A twinkling light in the sky grows closer, expanding into an aircraft. It lands with a roar of sound, then taxis slowly over to where Blue and I wait. The door opens and a slight woman with blonde hair swept up into an elegant twist hops lithely out. She’s wearing a khaki button-down shirt, a blue silk scarf tied at her neck, and black cargo pants tucked into ankle-height laced boots.
“Hey,” I say with a wave as she crosses to us. The woman moves like a dancer—all controlled elegance.
“Hello,” she says, her accent French. “It is a wonderful day…” She says the first half of our code phrase.
“For justice,” I answer.
She nods. “Sydney Rye.” She says my name as though she’s heard it a million times; she says it like I’m famous. “I am Sophia Boucher.”
“Nice to meet you.” I offer my hand. She takes it with her left and that’s when I realize she is missing part of her right arm—her sleeve is folded at the elbow.
“Dan told me to bring snacks. I have dog food and sandwiches. Would you like to eat?”
“Yes, oh my god, I love that man.”
She nods, as if that is to be expected. Who doesn’t love Dan? Sophia pulls a bag from the seat well in the back of the plane, another Cessna, though this one is newer, and hands it to me. Inside I find a ziplock with kibble, another with two sandwiches, and an apple.
I pour Blue’s meal into his bowl, and he dives in while I unwrap one of the sandwiches. “He also told me to check you for bugs,” Sophia says.
I nod, swallowing. “Sure. There is a sat phone we need to dump.”
Her brow creases, but I don’t answer the unasked question. Why do I have a satellite phone I have to destroy? None of your business. That’s why.
Sophia moves back to the Cessna, returning with a device that looks like a miniature metal detector. Black and about the length of my forearm, it has a round sensor at the end of a rod with a screen and handle at the end.
I kick over my bag, unwilling to unhand my sandwich to pass it. “The sat phone is in my pocket. I’ll leave it here,” I say.
Sophia goes through my bag, finding nothing. I’ve finished my first sandwich and before moving on to my second, I take out the sat phone and place it on the ground, then do a spin so that she can check my body.
“Okay,” she says. “All clear.” Sophia returns the device to the cockpit. “I will have a smoke, and then we will go.”
“Sounds good,” I say around a bite.
She moves downwind from me and pulls a pack of cigarettes from her pocket. My gaze travels back to the phone on the ground. I should destroy it before we leave. Wouldn’t want someone else finding it.
It rings as I’m staring at it. That same number coming up. I swallow my bite of food and continue to stare at the thing. Blue goes over and investigates it as it vibrates around on the pavement.
He lets out a short bark of excitement, like maybe this is a new toy for him. Blue looks up at me, his tongue hanging out. Can I destroy it? he’s asking with his eyes.
“Not yet,” I answer, before swiping it up. “Hello,” I answer.
“Good morning,” Robert says, sounding fresh as a daisy. I take another bite of my sandwich, not answering. “I just wanted to give you an update.” I make an agreeing sound through my food. “You got something to eat, excellent. I was worried.” I snort as if I don’t believe him. He ignores me. “I just left our prisoner. A sad story really. His mother is ill and he needed the money desperately. It would have pulled on your heart strings, Sydney.”
“Not yours though?” I ask.
“No,” he says, almost like he’s happy about the fact that he can hear a sad story and not give a fuck. “I don’t allow myself to be sucked into other people’s desperation.” I shake my head and take another bite of sandwich. What a dick. “He could not tell me any new information. He didn’t know about Fernando. Which makes sense. He’s very good.”
“Who?” I ask. “Fernando?”
“Yes,” Robert says. “I’m impressed.” I swear, there is fatherly pride in the man’s voice.
“So you’re impressed with the man who’s trying to kill you and don’t give a shit about the pawns he is using.”
“It’s not that I don’t give a shit, as you so eloquently put it. But rather that I choose not to take on other people’s problems.”
“And what’s the difference between not caring and not acting?”
“An entire world, Sydney, an entire world.”
Sophia comes back, the scent of cigarette swirling around her. She cocks her head at me, asking if I’m ready to leave. “I have to go,” I say to Robert.
“Safe travels,” he says before disconnecting the call.
I drop the phone on the ground and stomp it—cracking the screen. I stomp it again, busting off a piece of the plastic. It feels good. So I stomp it one more time just for good measure.
