Jeremiah’s satellite phone rang.

“Hey, boss, is now a good time to talk?”

“Yes, but please be brief.”

“Nigel’s phone was cloned. When would you like me to redirect the line?” Gregor said.

Jeremiah said nothing for several seconds.

“Boss? You there?”

“I thought you already did that!”

“I was waiting on your signal. If she called Nigel just now, then she reached his real phone.”

“No matter! We got what we came for,” Jeremiah said as he looked at Jet.

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About an hour later, they pulled up to the private airstrip where Jeremiah’s plane awaited.

“My passport! I don’t have it!” Jet said.

“I have it taken care of,” Jeremiah said as he left the vehicle.

Jet watched as Jeremiah produced papers to the guard, and after a few minutes he walked around the vehicle. The guard motioned for the driver to roll down the windows. The guard gave Jet a hard look. He said something that Jet couldn’t understand, then pulled out his weapon and turned toward Jeremiah.

“Whoa, we are all friends here,” Jeremiah said as he raised his hands.

The guard continued to yell in that otherworldly language as he backed up toward the guard post, weapon drawn. It looked like he was attempting to call for help. A loud bang sounded, and the guard fell to the ground; one of Jeremiah’s men had flanked the guard and gotten the drop on him. Jeremiah stepped over to the man and shot him two more times. Blood spattered on the window of the guard shack.

Jet tried opening the vehicle’s door, but they’d locked it. Jet looked out while Jeremiah’s men disposed of the body and continued looking for others. The airstrip was small, and no one else seemed to be around. Jeremiah’s men opened the car door and grabbed her. She fought as they restrained her.

Soon they were on a plane flying south, toward Leviathan’s lair.