Free Poe by Brett Battles Page B

unsealed the top, as he gestured toward the empty seat across the aisle from her. “You mind?”
    She shook her head.
    He plopped down, and set the small duffel bag he was carrying on his lap. From inside, he removed a blue booklet and handed it to her. “Your new identity.”
    It was a passport. Canadian. Roughed up a bit to not look new.
    She opened it and found the picture that had been taken after the briefing staring back at her. The name next to the picture was Powell, Maureen.
    She flipped through the pages and saw that Maureen had made trips to Mexico and the UK.
    “It’s completely valid,” he said. “If anyone runs it, they’ll find you.”
    She stuffed it into her pocket.
    Next out of the duffel came a white envelope, which he tossed to her.
    “Cash. Enough to get you where you’re going. The local currency is the hryvnia. It’s good in both the Ukraine and the Autonomous Republic of Crimea.”
    “What about Romania?” The plan was to cross from there on land into Ukraine.
    “There’s a few lei in there, too. But you won’t be there very long.”
    She checked the envelope, and nodded.
    “You’re clear on everything?” he asked.
    “Yeah,” she said.
    “Any questions?”
    Just a million , she thought, but said, “I think I’m good.”
    “Deuce and I will be no more than a couple miles away from you at all times.”
    “I know,” she said.
    Cooper was trying to put her at ease, but it wasn’t exactly comforting. Once Alex was behind the prison’s walls, she’d be on her own until she got out again.
    “Look, Alex,” Cooper said, as if sensing her concern. “If at any point you want to call things off, even if you’re already inside, then do it. Don’t worry about the target, just get yourself out.”
    “Yeah, McElroy would love that.”
    “I’ll worry about that asshole. You just worry about you.”
    “Not very corporate of you.”
    “I’m not a very corporate kind of guy.”
    “And yet, here you are working for them. How long now?”
    He hesitated. “Three years.”
    “Three years. Wow.”
    “I had to land somewhere after I got out.”
    Just the hint of his time in the army was enough to quiet them.
    It was nearly a full minute before he said, “I, um, I wish it had gone differently.”
    “Don’t,” she said quickly.
    “You don’t know how many times I’ve thought about it, what I could have done.”
    “Let’s not talk about this.”
    He turned to face her. “The thing is, as much as I wish it hadn’t happened the way it did, I did the only thing I could.”
    She turned to the window and looked out at the night sky again, trying not to think about that day, trying not to think about anything at all.
    “Alex, please.”
    She didn’t move.
    After several more minutes, she heard him get up and head toward the back of the plane.
    She closed her eyes, the tension easing from her shoulders.
    He was right. She had undoubtedly thought about it as much as he had, if not more, and she knew in her head there was nothing he could have done differently.
    Her heart, though, was having a hard time buying it, because it was her heart that had taken the blow that day.
    Stop thinking about it .
    But she’d already started.
    * * *
    I T HAD BEEN a simple resupply convoy, their platoon a tactical movement team escorting the vehicles—in this case, a handful of fuel trucks.
    Once they got them to Baghdad, they were scheduled for a day off. Everyone was looking forward to that. Just one day when they didn’t have to worry about IEDs or snipers.
    Hot. Dry. Sand pitting their skin even as they sat inside their MRAP Cougars. The platoon was divided among eight of the armored fighting vehicles, which were then peppered throughout the convoy. Alex was in a vehicle near the rear, manning the roof-mounted gun turret.
    She saw the flash of the explosion a split second before the sound ripped down the road past her vehicle.
    “Halt! Halt! Halt!” a voice yelled over the radio