Fly Away
There was a rhyme and reason to Rome’s plan when he chose his flight. He didn’t pick the most obvious of no-go flights, the one where he thought his father, if he had an idea of where he was, would suspect they might be headed. He didn’t choose any of the smaller towns one could fly to out of Domazlice. Instead, he picked a medium-sized city, one he doubted his father would pay too much attention to.
It was a city in Russia, Orenburg, one Rome wasn’t familiar with, but he saw that it was easy to reach destinations outside of Russia from that airport. The size was also appealing. It wasn’t so big they would have trouble navigating, but it was big enough for them to get lost if they needed to.
Rome emailed all of the others their boarding passes from an anonymous email account so they couldn’t be traced back to him. They would have two hours to get to the airport and get through security. That shouldn’t be a problem, as long as they didn’t meet any opposition.
As he settled into a seat on the bus, it was difficult to fight the urge to look around him. He felt as if he should be watching to see if they were being followed again, but then, why would the person he was pretending to be have to worry about something like that? Acting paranoid was the best way to draw attention to himself, and he didn’t need any of that.
They seemed to be safe on the bus. There was no sign of anyone following them or anyone on the bus who looked as if they might be of a questionable nature. The other passengers looked like regular people either headed to the airport or just making their way from point A to point B.
When they reached the stop near the airport, Rome grabbed his bag and stood, waiting for a few other people to exit ahead of him. One of those people was Ella. “After you, miss,” he whispered, catching her eyes. She smiled but didn’t say anything. Speaking English was probably not in their best interest, so he didn’t blame her for not responding to him.
The airport wasn’t busy at all. Rome took his time stepping over to get his boarding pass from one of the machines. Ella had gone to the desk to get hers, and Gus was across the room, on the phone. He’d lost track of Mary momentarily but then glimpsed her coming out of a restroom. Eventually, he saw all three of them head through the screening process. It was only when all of the others were free and clear that he went through, having told them all ahead of time he’d be last.
He wasn’t surprised to see the others hadn’t gone far, though. Once he was through the screening, he didn’t stop or signal to them at all. Instead, he headed toward his gate as if he didn’t know a single other person in the airport.
It all seemed too easy--almost. About two hours after Rome had left King’s compound, the four of them were scattered throughout the coach class seats of an airplane, bound for Russia. No one on the plane seemed to recognize him. No one seemed to be looking for him. He wanted to let down his guard and go to sleep, but his mind wouldn’t let him.
Just because he couldn’t see them, that didn’t mean the bad guys weren’t still out there, hunting him like he was an animal. No, he knew his father wouldn’t give up. Just because the trail went cold, that didn’t mean that he’d stop looking. He knew Monty Verona well enough to understand he wouldn’t stop hunting until he found his prey.
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