Claim Me

Chapter 6

6

Yulia

“Sorry about that,” Contreras says, pulling the lid off my crate. “I didn’t expect you to be this tall. I’m glad you were able to fit in there.”

I groan as he pulls me out, my muscles cramping from being stuck in the tiny crate for the last hour. My knees feel like two giant bruises, and my spine is throbbing from being squashed against the side of the crate. I am, however, alive and across the Venezuelan border—which means it was all worth it.

“It’s okay,” I say, rotating my head in a semi-circle. My neck is painfully stiff, but it’s nothing a good massage won’t cure. “It fooled the police and border patrol. They didn’t even try looking into the crate.”

Contreras nods. “That’s why I brought it. It looks too small to fit a person, but when one is determined…” He shrugs.

“Yeah.” I rotate my head again and stretch, trying to get my muscles working. “So what’s the plan now?”

“Now we get you to the plane. Obenko has already arranged everything. By tomorrow, you should be in Kiev, safe and sound.”

Our drive to the small airstrip takes less than an hour, and then we’re pulling up in front of an ancient-looking jet.

“Here we are,” Contreras says. “Your people will take it from here.”

“Thank you,” I say, and he nods as I open the door.

“Good luck,” he says in his Spanish-accented Russian, and I smile at him before jumping out of the van and hurrying to the plane.

As I walk up the ladder, a middle-aged man steps out, blocking the entrance. “Code?” he says, his hand resting on a gun at his side.

Eyeing the weapon warily, I tell him my identification number. Technically, eliminating me would accomplish the same thing as getting me away from Esguerra: I wouldn’t be able to spill any more UUR secrets. In fact, it would be an even neater solution…

Before my mind can travel too far down that path, the man lowers his hand and steps aside, letting me enter the plane.

“Welcome, Yulia Borisovna,” he says, using my real patronymic. “We’re glad you made it.”