“Will they knock me out?” Lynell asks.

“Shouldn’t. Though sleeping now wouldn’t be a bad thing. It’s a two-hour flight.”

Lynell shakes her head. “I don’t trust you, Price.”

“Zach,” he says.

“It’s not happening.”

“Well, I’m napping. I didn’t get much sleep last night and we’ll need the energy today. Wake me if anything interesting happens.” He crosses his arms, settles his head against the seat, and closes his eyes.

Lynell glares and buckles her seat belt, then stares out the window, watching the baggage handlers throw suitcases from a large metal container onto a conveyor leading up to the cargo hold.

When the plane takes off, Lynell is pushed further into her seat. Almost half an hour later, the flight attendants walk down the aisles with two carts, one with drinks and one with snacks.

“Anything to drink?” The attendant’s bright red hair is pulled into a bun.

“Some tea, please. And he’ll have red wine,” she says, gesturing to Price, who is still sound asleep. She lowers both of their tray tables and accepts the drinks with a smile. She places the wine on his and the tea on her own. When the next cart comes, Lynell gets a cookie for herself and pretzels for Price. He continues to sleep as she eats the pretzels first then the cookies. She downs the wine quickly before sipping on the tea.

Over an hour into the flight, Lynell looks up and sees a skinny man with a patchy beard staring at her. Her face heats up and she becomes keenly aware of her body’s every inch. She looks down, out the window, and runs her fingers through her hair.

She counts to ten before looking up again.

He’s still staring.

She mimics him, filling her own stare with as much venom as she can manage. He grins. Lynell seethes.

“Want a picture?” she asks, loudly enough for him to hear. Several other people turn to look at her, but she doesn’t remove her gaze from him.

He tilts his head, unbuckles, and stands. Lynell almost shakes Price awake but instead sits straighter and keeps her eyes trained on the man as he walks over. He sits in the empty aisle seat in their row.

“Picture won’t work. I need you,” he says. His voice is low, and Lynell sees Price twitch but not stir. “You don’t even realize what’s happening, do you?”

Lynell frowns. “I know more than you think,” she lies.

“Oh?” he perks up. “So, you know about the code?”

“Yes.”

He raises his eyebrows and leans forward, gaze searching hers. After a few seconds, he sits back. “No, you don’t. Which is probably good. If you did, you’d die faster. But we all need it, and you’re the one who has it. So at least you’ll be alive until one of us gets it.”

“Won’t be you.”

“If not me, then one of my colleagues. If none of them, Zach here will.” He looks down at Price, his face full of hatred. “If he wants it, he’ll get it. You’ll give it to him no problem.” He looks back up at Lynell. “And you’ll even think that you’re doing the right thing. That you can trust the idiot. But after you hand it over, you know what he’ll do?”