Next morning, Carlos divided the group once more. Mosaab was still exhausted from the previous night’s blind sprint, but his spirits rose when it appeared that finally, he would be Carlos’s exclusive client for the trip to Los Angeles. Carlos escorted Mosaab to a green 2012 Chevy Impala parked outside the farmhouse. His hopes for exclusivity, however, were dashed when Carlos tossed the keys to him. “You follow me, amigo.” Carlos smiled and pointed to the red pick-up truck parked in front of the Impala.
Mosaab carefully placed his backpack on the passenger seat and settled into the driver’s seat. He turned the ignition key and waited for the pick-up truck to move. Mosaab squinted. Wait a minute, where was Carlos? The driver’s seat of the pick–up appeared to be empty. Mosaab had his hand on
