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“Go west?” Elayne kept her voice calm and friendly. She sat in the pilot seat of the Falcon 7X. The other four had dealt with the pilots lounging in the back while she got the plane moving and in the air.
“Yes,” the heavy Chinese woman was apparently their mouthpiece. “In Africa, we can disappear.”
“I’m not going to Africa. I’m going to Syria. I will drop you at the Kuwait-Saudi Arabia border.”
“No. Khartoum, Sudan. We can get out from there. I have contacts.”
“And who is going to fly you if I say no?”
The woman pointed at her own chest.
Elayne glanced over her shoulder.
The Chinese woman stood close enough to hold on to Elayne’s seatback in a very proprietary way. The Latin Wonder, Mr. Eurotrash, and the quiet Indian woman crowded close enough to listen.
“Any of the rest of yo
