Chapter 342: Thursday. Regional Airport, northern Lebanon.

VARA HOBBLED OFF THE plane, the bag with Djinn's package clutched to her chest. Vara's limbs and muscles protested the movement after being tensed for so long as she held on for dear life. That flight would go down in history as one of the worst she could remember.

Alec was already at the passenger seat, helping Jules stretch her legs. If Vara was in bad shape Jules had to be in agony.

A hand grasped Vara's sleeve.

She turned toward the woman she'd only known as Djinn.

The woman was so petite she swam in her clothes. Her hijab framed her face in a way that she seemed to be all eyes and frowns. But that appearance hid a sharp intellect and when she opened her mouth Vara knew Djinn wasn't Syrian born even if that was her heritage. Djinn was American.

"Hey," Vara said. Was she finally speaking to her?

"You got it out?" Djinn stared at the bag clutched to Vara's side.

"Yes. It's safe." Vara patted the bag.