12: What’s in the SIM Card?
‘I KNOW A SECURE PLACE,’ volunteered the American.
‘Please don’t say the American Embassy,’ White interjected.
The last thing he’d do was set foot in the U.S. of A., of which the Embassy is an extra-territorial part of. No fuckin’ way.
‘You’re paranoid, buddy.’
White smirked. He had never laid eyes on a page of John le Carré or Frederick Forsyth’s espionage novels nor was he a fan of James Bond, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure that when you leave your country, you ain’t covered by its laws.
‘You wanna know what’s in it; you stay with me.’
It was Jordan’s turn to shrug, accepting that it was fair enough.
*
WHITE LEFT JORDAN FOR a moment to gather some things. He went to his bedroom and pulled a rucksack from under his bed. It contained his climbi
