"Where are you?" I'm on my feet moving now, heading straight to her bedroom. As she talks, I grab a rucksack and start shoving things in it. I have my own go bag in the truck, but Sabine will need clothes and her weapon. And she'll want that journal too.
"I mean… I'm safe, yes… Heading home, but they'll come looking. Fuck, Jace… what do I do?"
"Don't go to your apartment," I tell her, and I hear her sigh. "Alright… Here's what we'll do…" I suck in a breath and hold it for a second to give my brain the oxygen it needs to think clearly. "Where exactly are you?"
"Three blocks from the facility. Pulled over because I couldn't drive and shake at the same time." Her voice cracks. "My career is over, Jace. I'm going to prison."
"That's not gonna happen." I shove her journal into the bag and pick it up. "Listen to me carefully. I'm grabbing your things now and I'll meet you at a location I'm going to text you in thirty seconds."
"Okay," she whimpers. "Okay, where?"
Three blocks from that building, but nothing around there is familiar to me. Besides, I can't leave her sitting that close to the facility or they'll find her like a sitting duck. "There's a strip mall parking lot on Ashland Avenue near the old factory district. Park behind the Chinese restaurant and wait in your car. I'll be there in fifteen minutes and we'll transfer everything to my truck."
"They can track my car." The panic is building in her voice again. "Registration, GPS if they get a warrant fast enough. They'll find me."
"Okay, but we'll ditch the car when I get there, alright?" My hands grab more clothing without looking at what I'm taking, just pulling shirts and pants and underwear into a pile that goes into the go bag. "But right now, you need to drive to that location and stay calm. Can you do that?"
"Yes." Her breathing is starting to regulate slightly. "Yes, I can do that."
"Good. Text me when you're in position. Don't call anyone else or stop anywhere else. Just drive to Ashland and wait." I zip the zipper up and look around one last time to make sure I have everything. "Sabine?"
"Yeah?"
"You did good. We have what we need now."
Sabine hangs up, as if my praise is insulting to her, and maybe it is. She did just break the law in order to make this happen. But I can't get hung up on how she's feeling or whether she feels guilty about it. I have to get to her and get her safely away from the captain's reach.
I move through the apartment doing a final sweep for anything we might need that isn't already packed. Her laptop goes into my bag along with the charging cables and the external hard drive she keeps financial records on. And when the final check is complete, the bag sits by the door while I do one last scan for anything that might tell authorities where we're going or what we're planning.
But the apartment looks lived in, like someone might be returning any second. If they come to search it, they'll have zero leads as to where we're going.
I grab the bag and head to my truck, parked down the street a little. It roars to life, and I'm on the road in under three minutes since she called. Time is of the essence in circumstances like this, and I waste no time zipping out to the highway, driving well in excess of the speed limit. Our entire plan comes down to having that intel Sabine got, and I can't let them find her and lose access to it.
The strip mall appears after twelve minutes of driving too quickly through residential streets, and Sabine's car is already there, parked behind the Chinese restaurant exactly where I told her to wait. I park my truck beside hers and climb out before the engine fully dies, moving to her driver's side window and tapping on the glass.
She startles badly enough that her hand goes for her weapon before recognizing me, and when the window rolls down her face is pale and her eyes are too wide. "They're going to find me. They're going to find us both and this was stupid, I shouldn't have done this, I blew up my entire career for?—"
"Out of the car," I order, reaching for the handle. My command cuts through her spiral and she blinks at me. "Now, Sabine. We don't have time for panic. Out of the car and help me put what you need in my truck." I open the door as she slowly snaps out of it.
She moves on autopilot with jerky, uncoordinated movements while we work together to strip her vehicle of anything useful or identifying. I want to make this as difficult as possible for whoever comes looking for her to figure out whose car this is. Though, her prints have to be all over it, but at least they won't see her name written on a slip of paper from the DMV.
"Get in my truck," I tell her. "Leave the keys in the ignition. Someone will find it eventually and either strip it or report it, but by then we'll be long gone."
Sabine rushes to my truck and climbs into the passenger seat, and less than thirty seconds later, I'm in and we're on the move. This time, I drive at a normal pace. I can't draw attention to myself now. It's not like she committed murder and there will be a manhunt, but if her name shows up in any database and I’mpulled over, they'll ask her name too. If she lies, we go down, and if she tells the truth and the military reports her to the cops, we'll still go down.
We're about ten minutes out from that little strip mall when she asks, "Where are we going?" Her voice is thin and strained. She sounds like she's ready to cry, but for now she's holding it together. This situation is really giving it to her, and I have to hand it to her. Most women would be hysterical, but other than her warranted panicky moments, Sabine is doing a pretty good job of handling her shit.
"Safehouse on the South Side. The Barone organization keeps it for situations exactly like this." I take the belt south and keep an eye on my rearview, but I don't think anyone noticed us transfer that stuff from her car to my truck. We're alone for now.
"You think they'll find us there?" She sounds afraid as she asks that.
"They won't." I've spent my entire life cleaning up messes and hiding from authorities. I know this house is secure. "The military will check your apartment and shit, but they won't know you're hooked up with Barones. You'll be safe, Sabine." I want my words to be reassuring to her, but she covers her face with both hands.
The devil she's fighting isn't out there following us or searching for her. It's in her conscience. I've fought it too, and I'd be the first to tell her the only way to make it shut up is to accept that sometimes, you have to do shitty things for the right reason.
The safehouse is twenty minutes away through traffic that's mercifully light, and when we finally pull into the alley behind a building, Sabine's breathing has gone shallow. The adrenalinerush has her shaking and sweating, and I can't make something like that stop. She's got to get it together or she's gonna lose it and if she has a heart attack or something, there's no way I can protect her.
My hand finds her shoulder and squeezes and she looks up at me numbly. "Get inside and then you can fall apart if you need to, but here in the truck isn't a safe place, okay?"
