The plane touched down with a jolt that pulled me from uneasy sleep. We were finally on some european soil. One step closer to safety.
We deplaned separately, just like we'd boarded. I watched from a distance as the others moved through customs with their fake passports. Each checkpoint passed without incident. The emotional manipulation in Camille's clothing continued to work its subtle magic—boring, ordinary, not worth remembering.
I went through last, my heart rate elevated despite Superior Endurance keeping my physical responses controlled. The customs officer barely glanced at my face before stamping the passport and waving me through. I found it genuinely crazy. I was the most wanted man on the planet right now, every individual alive, regardless of age, sex or rank was all looking for me. And despite all that, no one could notice me hiding in plain sight.
