“What does she mean by that?”
“She said it’s not worth the risk to take you to Riyadh becausehecould die,” Carter adds.
I’m wondering why Rage didn’t tell me this himself, so I address him directly.
“Rage? What do you think I should do? Vanish?”
“No,” he finally answers. “We have no other choice. We didn’t come this far to deviate from the plan now.” He pauses. “No one knows the streets like he does, and he is the only one I trust. There’s no plan without his local expertise.” His deep voice sounds distant, and it makes me uneasy. I need him close to me, I need him friendly and chatty. Otherwise I just feel alone in the middle of nowhere.
Does this means something? Maybe it does, maybe this is more than a friendship to me.
Maybe it is an addiction.
“American Girl, you are awake. Good morning.” The Bedouin is right behind me. I turn around to see him holding the curtain with one hand. The other is inside his pocket, and he’s staring at me with his unexpressive face. “Any updates from Rage?”
“Let me talk to him,” Rage barks.
Without saying anything, I take off the earpiece and extend my arm to The Bedouin. He looks at the device, and he’s clearly hesitant about taking it.
“Go on, take it.” What did Rage do to this man that’s got him so terrified?
He grabs it, puts it on and says, “I’m listening.”
He paces around the room, only spouting the occasional “aha”and “okay”to make the conversation move along. Sometimes he looks at me, and sometimes he avoids eye contact, and I can’t help but feel nervous, which hasn’t happened in a long, long time. I’m nervous because I know they are talking about a meeting spot – the spot where the plan will come together, where I will reunite with Bruno and bring these past two fucking years to an end.
“I’ve got a place like that in mind, but remember, stakes are high,” he says and waits. “Yeah, I know, I’ve seen her. She can handle herself well enough.” His eyes find mine, and he winks after those words. “You got it.” He returns the earpiece, and as I’m putting it on, the Frenchman adds, “He’ll tell you what you need to know. Make sure you go to the bathroom before we head out.” He laughs as he finishes that sentence.
I anxiously put the earpiece in my ear. “Rage? I’m here.”
“Okay, kiddo, here’s what I told him. You are going straight into Riyadh, no stops. Get ready because you leave as soon as possible.”
“Where are we going?” I ask, gathering my belongings.
“It’s a bar.”
I stop.
“A bar? Aren’t those illegal?” Before agreeing with Rage about this trip, I spent hours online, absorbing everything about Saudi Arabia. Alcohol of any kind is banned here, and those who break the law are subject to hundreds of lashes or imprisonment.
“Precisely. Bruno needs something, and we will tell him he might be able to get it there. Obviously he doesn’t know it’s going to be you.”
We’re getting closer, and Rage knows what this means. I can hear the displeasure in his voice.
They have more information than before, something they collected during my trip, I guess, but then again, why didn’t they tell me about it?
“Have you spoken to him?”
“Carter did, briefly.”
Oh my God, Bruno.
“How is he?” My words are heavy and emotional. My stomach hurts as if a drill is piercing me. Rage remains quiet. I swallow, knowing how awkward this thing between us is.
“We’re in a tight schedule here, kiddo, focus.”
“Copy. I’ll get ready.” I can’t help but notice Rage is extremely cold during that last part of our conversation.
We both know what’s coming.
