Isabella followed the man to a small building, where a steward asked for her boarding pass. The man in the suit produced it from his pocket, and handed it to her, then wished her good luck as he left her to the steward.
“The plane leaves in ten minutes, senora,” the steward told her. “Kindly follow me.”
He hurried away and she followed, nervous and excited at the same time. The Plane was waiting on the tarmac, a rental jet probably on a journey to pick up a high profile personality.
As they neared the plane, she knew she was almost free, but still her instincts were going haywire and she did another quick scan of the surroundings.
Was someone watching?
All the parked cars in a small parking lot close by were locked, and workers were quietly going about their businesses. She carefully
