“Because it’s two minutes from the safe house,” I answer and pull out onto New Albany Country Club Drive. “If they try to track my phone, maybe it will confuse them once they find out I’m not at the safe house. Buy us a little more time.”
We drive in silence the three minutes to Harper’s, Luke transferring over my files and deleting any trace of who I really am. When we pull into Harper’s driveway, she’s climbing out of her Range Rover in yoga pants and an oversize sweatshirt. I glance at the clock: 8:48. Seventy-two minutes.
“My two favorite people,” Harper says, her smile wide, as we hop out of the still-running car. “What are you guys doing here?”
“Taking a drive,” I say with a casual shrug.
“Wanted to come and say a quick hi,” Luke says and wraps an arm around Harper. She returns his half hug and gives his waist a squeeze.
“I’m so glad you did,” Harper says, pulling her enormous tote over her shoulder. “I just got back from the club. Tried that new yoga class with the superhot teacher. Don’t know if the gorgeous face and Australian accent was worth the pain. I think he broke my hymen and not in the fun way.”
“Too much, Harper,” Luke responds, shaking his head as a laugh bubbles up my throat with tears close behind. She’s in front of me, so close I could touch her, and yet my heart already misses every piece of her.
“Still RGFs?” Harper asks, giving me a wink. I shrug while Luke looks back and forth at us, confused.
“You two,” Luke says, shaking his head and letting go of his hold on Harper. “I’ll never figure your little language out.”
“You guys want to come inside?” Harper asks.
“No, no, we’ve got to get going. I just wanted to see you,” I say and wrap my arms around her neck as Luke starts walking toward the car.
“Are you okay?” Harper asks as I hold her tighter than normal.
“Yup. NBB,” I reply. Never been better.
Before I pull out of our embrace, I gently drop my phone into her wide-open tote and pray it sinks to the bottom. She can never find anything in that bag.
I squeeze Harper one last time and whisper in her ear, “Thanks for always being such a good friend.”
“Of course,” she whispers back.
I pull away from her and quickly walk toward the car, afraid of the tears that lie at the base of my throat.
“Love you,” she calls after me. I turn around, thankful for the darkness that hides my tear-stung eyes. I put my hand to my lips and blow her a kiss.
“Love you too,” I say and know it’s the last thing I’ll ever say to her beautiful face. I open the car door and take her in. The way she wraps her wavy hair into a wild bun. Her full, pink cheeks. The way she smiles, first sluggishly then bright and wide all at once. I file every piece of my dear, sweet friend away and that pain pierces even deeper into my heart.
I pull out of her driveway, my face catching the dim glow of the streetlight, giving me away.
“You okay?” Luke asks, reading my face.
“Yeah,” I say, swallowing hard and forcing any remaining tears back down. “That’s the first time I’ve actually gotten to say good-bye.”
Luke doesn’t say anything. He just reaches out, his fingers dancing on the top of my hand for a moment before he returns them to his lap. I glance at the clock: 8:55. I press on the gas and we race in anxious silence to the airport.
TWENTY-FOUR
“So once we fly into Quito…” I say quietly, pointing to Ecuador’s capital on my tablet. I tap my finger on the screen, zooming in tighter on Quito. I trace the route to Colombia with my index finger, creating a squiggly blue line. “The Black Angel transporter will get us to a meeting point somewhere near San Lorenzo and then we’ll travel to Colombia through our channels. We’ll meet up with the team in Tumaco and make our way to Torres’s ranch by tomorrow night.”
“How are we all going to make it across the border?” Luke asks, staring at the digital map.
“Foreign Black Angel agents have connections at the border, so we’re just going to have to hope they will be on duty,” I answer, tapping on the map again. It zooms in tighter on the border. Luke squints his eyes, studying the route. “But most important, CORE has already arranged for two trucks with hollow beds. They use them all the time on missions to cross dangerous borders without being detected. We will hide in there until we get outside of Tumaco.”
“And if anyone spots the trucks, the agents just will look like your average farmers, carrying their load,” Luke interjects, nodding.
“Exactly,” I say, pushing my hair off my face. “Believe me. My parents have done this like a hundred times. Probably hidden in the exact trucks we’re going to take. I’ve practiced it a few times during my training at some of the different international camps. It’s uncomfortable and hot in there, but they’ve all been intricately designed so no one ever suspects there are people inside.”