‘I think he fell asleep,’ George says, glancing back quickly at Jacob. ‘Sorry, buddy.’

Jacob exhales. It’s no hurry, they have time. He hopes they have time.

‘That’s Yassim,’ he says.

‘No shit,’ George says. ‘He’s alive.’

‘I knew when I got the password,’ he says. ‘Who else would have sent it? Or I was hoping. But I never imagined he’d come after me. That he would search for me. Find me.’

Jacob closes his eyes. It’s dark outside now, but when he opens his eyes, he sees Yassim staring at him from between the front seats. His eyes are so tired, his face so dirty and grimy, and a cut runs from his temple and down under his eye.

‘Hello,’ he says. ‘We’re alive. Both of us.’ And then he smiles that smile that makes the whole galaxy stop, that makes the nights cease and time change direction, and Jacob leans forward between the seats and takes Yassim’s face between his hands, and pulls it closer and kisses him gently, trying not to cause him any pain.

‘What’s going on?’ he asks when he finally pulls back.

‘Good question and surely not a moment too soon to find out,’ George mutters from behind the wheel. ‘I, for one, am all ears.’

‘Where should I even start?’ Yassim asks.

‘How about from the beginning,’ George says. ‘I’m wanted by the police because of you.’ He glances at Yassim. ‘Nice of you to save us in Malmö, but honestly, it’s pretty much your fault we landed in that situation to begin with.’

‘You told me I was carrying information about war crimes,’ Jacob says, leaning between the seats, ‘that I was smuggling it for you. But you lied.’

Yassim nods calmly to Jacob. Outside, dark trees whiz by in the darkness – it almost feels like they’re driving through a tunnel.

‘Yes, that’s true,’ Yassim sighs. ‘But you surely knew that?’

‘I guess,’ Jacob says. ‘Still, I trusted you.’

They sit in silence for a while. Just the sound of the engine and the wind against the car.

‘Do you know what Emni is?’ Yassim asks finally.

Jacob shakes his head.

‘It’s the ISIS intelligence service, I guess you could say. They’re behind many terrorist attacks in Europe.’

Jacob says nothing.

‘They were behind what happened in Paris. Or they developed the plan, coordinated it, local cells carried it out. The cells didn’t know anything until a week before. Then someone took a flight with a little chip.’

Jacob just looks at him.

‘You,’ he says. ‘You were the one who came with the plan.’

‘No,’ he says. ‘I didn’t carry the plan for Paris. That was someone else. If that had been my job, it never would have happened. I can promise you that. Just like the plan on the chip you carried is never going to happen.’