“With all due respect, whenever I give orders?—”
“The moment she flashes her passport at customs,” he says, interrupting me, “it’ll trigger an alert if we’re lucky, and someone nice will tell us that she needs to return home. If we’re unlucky, which we will be, because we’re flying private, she’ll be arrested on the spot, charged with an international criminal offense, and then held in an immigration detention cell until she faces a court date. Oh, and… we won’t be waiting for her to get out. That is my call to make.”
What the…I stare at him, stunned as all hell.
“The whole point of her employment is being undetectable, right?” He softens his tone. “So, that’s why she’ll have to go as ‘Sarah Stone,’ and we’ll need to wait and make sure our guys in customs can get her through, since we can’t risk using whoever is on shift this week.”
“And we’re what—three days from departure?”
“Exactly.” His voice tightens. “Which is why you need to listen to me on this.”
“How sure are you about all this?”
“Five thousand percent. I have someone working on her alternate passport as we speak.”
I blink.
From what I know about Canadian policy, there are levels to the type of bans they offer, depending on how egregious the offense is. They offer a paperwork route for temporary relief to anyone who needs to enter under certain circumstances, but I can never risk filing anything.
Even if it’s for someone I like…
“What exactly did she do to get banned?” I ask.
“I’ll let you know when I find out,” he says. “Our contacts are on it, though.”
“I can’t see her doing anything too reckless,” I say, assuming she got a slap on the wrist. “When does her five-year ban expire?”
“Five years?” He shakes his head. “She’s indefinitely inadmissible. Her ban isfor life.”
I pull my phone from my pocket and send Autumn a text message.
Are you awake?
Just now getting into bed…
The ellipsis feels off. Like she’s stalling. Or covering something.
I don’t text back.
It’s pointless at this moment, and while she’s busy researching me, I need to figure out where the hell I went wrong in researchingher.
Then again, one of my old confidantes was temporarily banned from Canada for stealing a pack of cigarettes from a tourist stand.
I can easily make it to her place before she falls asleep…
I check the time. Then check it again.
Screw it.
Scrolling through my contacts, I call one of the men who watches over Autumn’s temporary house for me.
“Yes, sir?” he answers on the first ring.
“How long have the lights been out at Miss Jane’s place?”
“Quite a while, sir,” he says. “A long time.”
“I need you to be more specific than that.” I pause. “Since she came home, when exactly did she turn off the lights?”
