The Heretic’s Treasure

‘Stay with me. Take the next flight.’

‘You know I can’t do that.’

She reached up and gently caressed his cheek. ‘Take care.’

‘You too,’ he said.

‘When will I see you again?’

‘I don’t know.’ He turned to go, tearing himself away.

‘Call me,’ she said as he walked off. ‘Promise you’ll call me.’

He wanted to turn back and hold her again, be with her, take her somewhere where they could be alone. But he kept walking. Just before he pushed through the doors into the terminal building, he glanced back. She was standing there by her car, a small, forlorn figure in the distance. She waved. He sighed and entered the building.

Across the car park, two men had been sitting in a car watching the whole thing. The driver had been about to get out to follow their target inside the airport to find out what flight he was getting on.

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