“Talk to you soon, G.”
The connection severed.
WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU WITNESS A SHIPWRECK?
Glennon
The phone rang twicebefore he picked up.
“What happens when you witness a shipwreck?”
She groaned. “I don’t know, M. I have a migraine. I need a shower, a pizza, seven days of nonstop sleep, and I feel like I’ve been in a shipwreck. What happens?”
“You let it sink in.”
“For fuck’s sake,” she said, exhaling. “Where do you get these god-awful jokes? Do you belong to an email subscription that sends you the dad joke of the day?” She paused. She knew nothing about him. Was he married? Did he have kids, and that’s why he had a plethora of these corny one-sentence punch lines? The thought made her a little sad, for some reason. “You a dad?”
“No, just naturally funny.”
“Does your girlfriend find you funny?” Well, she hadn’t meant to ask that. It just sort of slipped out. Kind of. Sort of.
“No girlfriend, no wife, no boyfriend, and no husband either. You fishing for a date to the prom or something?”
Busted. While his tone was friendly, she apologized anyway, trying to cover for her curiosity. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. I think I’m overtired.”
“Not surprised. And you’re not prying. Everything okay? You’re a little later than expected.”
“Yeah. I overslept a bit.”
“Your body needed the rest.”
She heard a hubbub of people in the background, then a garbled public address announcement that sounded like he was in an airport or a train station. “Can I ask how you arranged for all this?”
“Friend of a friend. She used to work for the FBI, so she called in a favor from a former co-worker. Don’t worry. Totally off the books.” She heard a muffled “Thank you,” as if he had the speaker partially covered, then his volume returned to normal, although quieter. “You got rid of everything, right?”
“Yep. Everything’s gone.”
“Good.”
“So what’s next?”
The background noise faded, as if he’d moved into a secluded area. “My friend is working on getting you a passport to get over the border. I had a feeling you didn’t want to go to the embassy.”
“No. Buenos Aires is too dangerous for me. Guillermo didn’t appear to be where I was taken, which means he’s likely there. I’d be too recognizable and probably wouldn’t get very far before I was found.”
“As long as there are no unforeseen hitches, the passport should be on its way in a few hours. I’m going to have it expressed to the hotel. When it arrives, I’ll get a tracking number, and I’ll text you that it’s arrived. I’m also having one sent to another location in case of trouble.”
“Thinking ahead.”
“I may not have been CIA, but NSA is close enough.”
She lay down on the bed. Lord, she was tired for someone who had eight hours of uninterrupted sleep. Sleeping on the ground the day before still stuck with her, despite the bed she slept in here. Everything hurt. Her back, her neck, all her joints. Even her hair hurt, and that was saying something.
And yet, for some reason, she was reluctant to close out the conversation just yet, despite how exhausted she was. “Why did you choose the NSA?”
Chuckling crossed the airwaves. “I didn’t choose them. They chose me. Got into some trouble my senior year of high school. Apparently, government types don’t like it when you hack into defense budgets just to see if you can. They decided I could be valuable to them, and they offered me a shit ton of money. Had no desire to go to college, so it seemed like a winning deal.”
“Why did you leave?”
