Page 67 of Rescuing You

“Here.”

The voice came from one of four cube-shaped crates stacked against the side of the van.

Splat called, “She’s in the bottom one. You’ll need to move the others.”

Michael nodded toward the passenger seat. “Sit for now. I’ll get her.”

Leila wanted to help, but there wasn’t room for both of them. She climbed over the console and sat beside the man who’d secured their escape from Baghdad. “Thank you.”

“Exciting stuff.”

“You call that exciting? I thought I would lose control of my bladder.”

He chuckled, checked the rearview. “You find the crowbar?”

“I see it,” Michael called. He removed the boxes from atop Jasmine’s, then pried open the top.

He held out his hand, and Jasmine stood. She looked wan and wilted. “That was not fun. But…” She looked through the windshield at the passing desert landscape. And smiled. “We are free.”

“Not quite,” Michael said. “But getting there.”

Leila and Jasmine switched places, and then Michael handed Jasmine her backpack, which he’d pulled from her crate. “Your papers are in there. Be sure you know them inside and out.”

“I have memorized already,” she said. “I know who I am.”

“We got a long ride ahead of us,” Splat said. “Five more hours to the border, then a few more to Diyarbakir.”

“You’re taking us all the way there?”

That Michael hadn’t known already pinged anxiety in Leila’s heart. “You do not have a plan?”

Michael barely glanced her way and didn’t bother responding.

“If those thugs pass into Turkey looking for you,” Splat said, “they’ll concentrate near the border. I wanna get you guys farther in.”

“Thanks, man,” Michael said. “I’ll arrange a truck.”

“Already done.” Splat reached into a cubby beneath the radio and handed back a packet of papers. “It’s under your alias.”

His alias?

The way Splat said it, as if it was normal… Why would Michael have an alias?

He tensed, and did she imagine it, or was he very careful not to look her way? “Perfect. I appreciate your help.” To her, he said, “Let’s find a place to sit.”

She followed him back among the boxes.

After he dug into his pack for bottles of water and protein bars, he settled on one of the cubes he’d moved.

Leila perched on another, contemplating asking all her questions, but he’d already told her he’d explain everything once they were safe. She opened her protein bar. “What is the plan?”

“Get a car in Diyarbakir, drive to Istanbul, and⁠—”

“Drive? But it is so far.” Sixteen hundred kilometers from the Iraqi border to the west coast.

The very thought of making the trek again had her heart racing.

“Don’t worry.” He lowered his voice to a soothing timbre. “I have money and resources. We’ll get the car today and reach the border tomorrow.”