Beattie and I weren’t even given a minute to ask questions when we got into the Jeep. Frank immediately started the engine and revved it up the street, narrowly dodging scooters and pedestrians. He barely slowed down when we reached Ivan, who leapt into the back with the grace of a cheetah. Then we were moving straight and fast up the road.
Frank only slowed down once we got fully out of the city and onto a winding road.
“What was that?” Beattie asked as she tugged the scarf she’d been using to keep from swallowing a mouthful of Syrian soil.
“We were being watched,” Boone said.
Frank took a left onto a slightly larger road, and soon, I saw the buildings of Damascus coming into view.
“By whom?” I asked.
Boone shook his head. “I don’t know yet.” He glanced back at me. “I’m just glad yo
