Page 6 of The Stowaway
She flashed a quick smile. “Total daddy’s girl. He’s a pilot like you.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Mmhmm.” She chewed on a small bite. “My mom died when I was in junior high, so Dad did what he knew best. He preached the Air Force gospel, took me to air shows, and gave me a call sign.”
How about that. Even I had to crack a smile. “Good dad.”
“The best,” she said. “Do you have a call sign? Or do private military not bother with those?”
Here we go.
“How do you know I’m private?” I asked.
She froze momentarily.
I didn’t take my eyes off her.
She hadn’t exactly found the helicopter by accident. Not only had she known the location, she had somehow evaded getting caught on camera. At least, I hadn’t heard anything suspicious.
“I wanna know everything, Kiera.”
She nodded minutely. “As long as… As long as Noura and her husband don’t get in trouble for this.”
I kept staring at her. For one, I wasn’t making any promises. For two, she was admittedly very easy on the eyes. I hadn’t paid attention to her appearance in that way before. But now it was difficult not to, particularly in the glow of the fire. She had a heart-shaped face, dimples, and those big brown peepers.
“Noura’s husband has been an informant for the US military,” she admitted. “And, um…when we pulled out, he was contacted by a few private agencies.”
Of-fucking-course. “I’m guessing the Hillcroft Group was one of them.”
“I-I wouldn’t know. They didn’t share any names.”
Fair enough.
“I want you to know they tried other options first,” she went on. “I lost all my money when some shady fucker promised to smuggle me into Uzbekistan before he disappeared. They tried to call the embassy in Turkey, as well as the Turkish embassy in Kabul, but that just resulted in Noura’s husband being followed. And then…then he learned about a pilot arriving to fly a helicopter out of here…”
I waved her off, having heard enough. Nothing would be verified for a while, but what she said was plausible.
“And that’s how I ended up with a damn stowaway,” I said. “That’s enough for one night. I’ll make sure you get home. Just be prepared to wait a week.”
The way she lit up, man. But the smile fell almost as fast. “Wait, what? Aweek?”
I finished my protein bar and grabbed my sleeping bag. “I have orders. Our way home has a detour—but if you give me your dad’s information, I’ll have a colleague reach out and let him know you’re okay.”
A breath gusted out of her. “Thank you so much. I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. You’re getting me home, and that’s what matters.”
“No problem.” I dug into my backpack and retrieved my spare blanket. It wasn’t soft or cozy, but it would keep her warm. “Use the burqa as a sheet, and take this.”
“Thank you.” She eyed the plastic bucket next to the stove. “I’m not going to the bathroom in that thing, by the way.”
“I sure hope not. I fetch water in that.”
“Oh. So, um, where…”
“There’s an outhouse about twenty feet down the slope,” I replied. I got to my feet, ’cause I needed to take a leak. “I’ll show you tomorrow. I trust you can piss outside in the meantime.”
She looked so happy to hear that.
CHAPTER 3
