"El..." Al whispered, the heartbreak in her voice forcing me to harden my resolve.

"Never heard of the name."

"Lies..." He tsked, coming to stand near me, his body inches away, his cedar piney smell making my head spin. "We know you've been hunting him. We know you want him," If looks could kill, Azaan whatever-his-last-name-was would have been dead on the floor. "We know where he is. We know how to catch him. We're closer than anyone has ever been in the past twenty years," Panic seized my heart, and anger boiled my blood."We have everything you'll need to finish him. To get that sweet sweet revenge. Don't you want that Eliza?" His voice was soft silk, pure seduction, luring me to him. "We can give that to you Eliza. Both of you can walk away from here, your records wiped clean, with a chance to start anew. Think about it, a chance at a new life."

"We're leaving. It's a suicide mission. I won't risk my sister's life on this."

"You and your sister are our responsibility. Nothing will happen to the two of you."

"I sincerely doubt that." Akbar Jamshed Junejo. If there was a way I could get my hands on his pudgy little neck, I'd gladly watch his rotten soul leave his body. "We're not interested. We'd like to go to jail please."

"And not bargain for your freedom? Don't you want to be free? Not wanted by the authorities?"

"If we were in jail, they wouldn't very much want us would they?" I snapped.

Azaan threw up his hands in anger. "What is wrong with you? Is this how you would like to live your life? On the wrong side of the law, running at every opportunity?"

"No," I said, quietly. "But some of us do not have a choice."

"There is always a choice. Always. You could have a house of your own. No more running, no more hiding. Just the two of you, in your home," Besides me I saw Al take a moment to think about it, lowering her eyes in an attempt to convey her message.

She was ready to do this. Damn it.

"I need to talk to my sister," Al asked, ignoring my glare. They nodded, moving towards the door. "In a private room."

"This is a private room."

"With no surveillance."

"Sure," Azaan's voice let me know he'd won, and I bristled. Arrogant jerk.

The moment Sush closed the door of the waiting room behind him, Al turned to me, her big eyes filled with determination.

"No."

"El, please. This is our chance. We can finally get our revenge."

"He's a very dangerous man Al. This will not be easy."

"It doesn't have to be! What has our life been Eliza? Ever since you were fifteen, we've been on the streets. If it weren't for your thievery, we would have starved to death."

"He's a criminal Aleena."

"So are we!" I backed away. "Do you want to live like this? Constantly looking over our shoulders? Running from one place to another? What's the point of having money, of all the luxury if we can't enjoy it? We've got several houses in the past ten years but no home!"

"Aleena..."

"Don't you want to actually wear your heels and show off your designer bags? Don't you want to have fun in those dresses? Don't you want to live?" I didn't say anything, letting her get it all out. "I want a home, Eliza. I want to be free. I don't want to live like this anymore," She grabbed my arms. "I want us to live."

"You want to take this?"

"Yes!"

"You know it's not that simple right?"

"When is it ever?"

"And that you're not going into the field."

"As if you'd let me."

That stubborn girl. She wasn't going to back down. "I'll do the talking," Her mouth opened for a retort. "And I don't want a single word out of you. Not even a single squeak."

Half an hour later, we approached the main conference room, hand in hand our backs straight, faces covered by a mask of confidence. The office doors opened, interrupting Wahaaj before he could finish.

Both Azaan and Sush stood inside his office, Azaan sporting what I was now thinking was his usual scowl and Sush with a cell phone in his hand. Wahaaj's blank gaze landed on us, and for a brief second, I wished I could take Al and disappear.

"We've come to a decision," I announced.

All three of them turned to look at us but my eyes snagged on one man in particular. His easy stance, tall frame, and broad shoulders that filled his suit perfectly...

"And?" Wahaaj asked, his voice without any infliction. Right, the deal.

"We've got a few conditions."

"Done. Give me a minute," And he walked out of the room, tapping away on his phone.

Under normal circumstances, I'd be obsessed with the case. I'd be thinking it through from every angle, searching out motives, making a list of suspects.

But there was something really wrong with this situation.

Azaan shuffled towards the counter and served us slices of pizza. After throwing a glare his way, both Al and I started to eat, our bodies relaxing at the nourishment.

Watching Azaan's face with much more than professional interest, I was dying to address the elephant in the room—the three years' worth of unfinished business, a vague familiarity, and the tension that zipped through me every time I connected with those hot brown eyes of his. Just as I opened my mouth, Sush started a conversation on his phone, effectively erasing any chance of a conversation.

Ages later, Wahaaj walked back into the room, his hand filled with papers. "You're all aware of the person we're dealing with. Akbar Jamshed Junejo is currently based in New York City living the life of an elite upper-class New Yorker. He's a mastermind, uses several decoys and many different liaisons to accomplish his criminal activities, smuggling drugs, weapons and who knows what from Afghanistan into Pakistan and beyond," He clicked on the clicker. "He's not an easy target"

"How are you even conducting this operation?"

Azaan smiled, his eyes infuriatingly smug. A smile that told me that whatever he needed from me, he knew how to get it. I wanted to slam his head on the table, but then I wouldn't get more of what I really wanted."Say please, Eliza."

"Please, go screw yourself," If only he would keep his mouth shut, he'd be perfect. I forcefully turned to look at Wahaaj. "Last I heard he had the government in his pocket."

"He does. That's why..."

"That's why you need us. Got it,"  To take the fall. To be the bait. The lost names. "How are you even planning to get him here? If you think they'll deport him from the States, you're mistaken."

"What do you know?"

"I know that a certain lobbying firm is solely owned by his son. Who do you think paid for Congressman Luther's Barbados vacation? The chair of the senate committee on South Asian affairs?"

"How do you know this?" Their heads whipped towards Al who just shrugged. "They've got nothing on file and they've been suspiciously clean and off the grid."

"Every system has some flaws."

"What?"

"Flaws," She repeated as if they were dumb.

Wahaaj looked at her, his eyebrows drawn together. "How old is this kid?" he muttered, gesturing at Sush.

"Old enough to be here," I added, knocking my knee against Al's. "By the way, your plan of trying to tackle him at the docks? By raiding his shipment? He's already got men positioned to take you out. You'll be walking into a trap."

"Since you know everything, why don't you tell us what we should be doing?"

"Do you really think negotiations and deals happen in conference rooms?" His face flashed with understanding. "We get proof of a particular deal, and voila, our job is done. We have to relocate the team to intercept that shipment, but we need hard evidence to tie him to it."

"Knowing him and the American legal system, he could just weasel out of that whole thing without lifting a finger. We've got one shot at this," I nodded at Azaan, acknowledging his point.

I turned my gaze to Wahaaj, who stood there smiling, his eyes trained on my face. "Is that why we're here?"

"Smart cookie. It took you all of five minutes to figure out what they couldn't for the past few years," both Sush and Azaan glared at their boss, their faces awash with confusion. "Junejo holds a very dear jewel in his collection, something that has the codes to his private computers. We get that, we get him arrested and convicted."

"You want me to use those codes to crack into his computers?" Al added her eyes on the laptop at the center of the conference table.

"Exactly," I chewed on my bottom lip, hyper-aware of the eyes on us. "We can't risk letting him know that the jewel has been stolen."

Hence, they'd recruited us.

If the plan went badly, AAJ would have his way with us. No, not us, me. Al wasn't coming anywhere near him or his henchman, I'd make sure of that. Wahaaj was going to provide me with legal documentation making sure that Al would be taken care of if I died or suffered a fate worse than death.

If not, well, maybe, just maybe, after everything we'd been through, we gained our freedom.

Was that worth my life? I stared at my sister, watching her fingers flex with the itch of getting her hands on that laptop.

"You want to venture into the lion's den?" Azaan's voice pulled me from my reverie and I stared at Wahaaj. His eyes were sympathetic. He knew I might not make it out of this.

"There was never another way. He brought the war to us so we're bringing the fire to him."

"Are you sure?"

Al squeaked out indignantly, her eyes reflecting the same hurt I felt. This was what we'd been reduced to. People who couldn't be trusted.

Ever since we'd known, we'd been on the run. Never having a permanent place to stay, a home to make memories in, somewhere to settle down. We'd been desperate. Al had never complained about our life, until today, she'd never second-guessed my judgment before.

Her freedom worth the risk. I owed her this much.

Part of me felt guilty for the fact that we were in trouble because of a theft that I had insisted upon. But by far the larger part of me was just enraged by Azaan. By the fact that he had caught me, by the fact that he would not listen or trust us! It annoyed me, those intense eyes that refused to believe a word I said, whether I was telling the truth or not, even though I had agreed to help him. And it annoyed me more that I didn't know why it made me so angry.

I could try to escape, I knew that. We had agreed to work with the FIA only because we couldn't see another way out of our predicament – but I would be better off alone. I always was.

"Enough Azaan! Sush, consult with the girls and assemble the squad. We leave for New York in a month."

The mixture of nervousness and anticipation swirling inside me was a strange companion as I signed the paperwork in Wahaaj's office. In a few weeks, there would be no more chances to escape even if I wanted to. We would be traveling too far to New York. I had to be fully committed to this deal I'd struck with Wahaaj—and to his plan if I wanted an out. This whole month was a way to figure out how.

༻⸻⸻༺

We drove up just as the sun was trying to paint the sky a rosy pink instead of its usual all-pervading blue. The air over the city was already thick with noise and dust. More than a month later working with the FIA, our little team was being driven to the airport.

Standing on a private airstrip, being ordered onto a private plane, I didn't have time to wonder when, exactly, I'd become a girl who worked for the government and had access to jets.

"Really? Isn't this excessive?" Azaan's lips twisted sardonically as I threw a sharp look his way, immediately regretting that decision.

We'd arrived in separate cars and had managed to avoid any sort of unpleasant interaction. Now that I got a good look at him, I could see that he was fashionably and impeccably dressed in a grey casual jacket over a T-shirt and dark jeans. From his steely gaze to his strong jaw, and his dark hair that was swept upward like he'd been running his fingers through the short strands, the man oozed confidence and power.

My stomach flipped as we climbed up the steps. He looked better than anyone had a right to be. A man who knew his worth, his place in the world.

"You were caught trying to steal a multimillion-dollar necklace, let's not talk about excess."

"I wasn't going to buy a private jet. Think about the climate."

"You can not be serious."

"Hey, no world, no diamonds. I do have some morals," My gestures made me stumble a bit on the step, too focused on the conversation. He caught my hand, the contact of his skin against mine sending a charged jolt through me. My eyes flew to his, but there was no knowledge to be gained from his heavily hooded expression as he helped me gain equilibrium.

"Consider me shocked."

"Like the time I beat you in a sparring match?"

"I let you win."

"Of course you did"

"Is there a problem?" Sush asked, skipping towards us, a gleeful smile on his face.

"Yes, I'm allergic to bullshit," I muttered walking towards the back of the plane.

As expected, he followed and I hid a smile. We'd been playing this cat and mouse game for the past month. I pushed, he pulled. I ran and he followed. We'd been circling each other, waiting for the other to give, waiting for that bubble to burst, for the tension to overflow into something bigger.

My heart sank in the depths of my chest. I was under no illusions. Teasing him had consequences, but it was also the only foolproof way to make sure I did not think of him in any other way.

In some very dangerous confusing ways that could only lead to heartbreak.

"You have a lot of nerve."

"Thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment."

"Depends on how you view it."

"You're impossible," A phrase that had, yet again, been repeated several times during the month.

"I'm touched," I muttered loud enough to rile him up. He smiled, his eyes shiting to a dangerous shade, ready to fling back a remark.

Oh why, oh why did he have to be the one on the other side.

My tongue between my teeth, I ran towards the allocated seats and swung my hand luggage into the overhead compartment, inching my way over to the window. Wahaaj stood near the cockpit, his shades in his hands, his eyes dark and serious.

"You're flying to London first. You'll then be asked to take a commercial plane to New York. We'll split the team. Azaan and Eliza will be on duty while Sush and Aleena find our hot spots."

"Understood."

"And kids, please try to be civil. We have a lot riding on this," He stated, his eyes hard, face wary. Azaan gave him a small salute and escorted him towards the exit giving Al the opportunity to plop herself next to me.

"What were the two of you whispering about?"

"Nothing."

"Really? It's like the two of you can't stop quipping at one another."

"He won't stop pushing my buttons. I don't know what his problem is. He always seems to be pissed at me."

"Of course he's pissed, you've evaded him for the better part of 3 years, managed to beat him in a sparring match, and infuriate him night and day," She stuffed some chips into her mouth- where had she gotten those?- and gave me a bright smile. "Sush said he's been obsessed with finding us."

"Why?"

"I looked at his file. He's... El, he's one of us"

My head whipped to look at her, panic-stricken."What do you mean?"

"Seatbelts everyone, we'll be taking off in a few minutes," The air hostess walked towards us, her eyes doing a brief sweep. My eyes narrowed as I watched Azaan pass me by, face set in a stony expression, his lips pressed together as if he was physically restraining himself from passing a remark. "Do you need anything, Ma'am?"

"A hitman? Some holy water?"

Her lips twitched but she maintained her professional attitude, fetching me a bottle of water. The plane started taxiing for take-off and everyone rushed to their seats.

I saddled up to Al, my mouth near her ear. "What do you mean he's one of us?"

"He knows our past and he was desperate to find us. Apparently, he grew up in the same area we did. His parents were friends with ours," Flashes of long hours playing in the treehouse, reading books, dancing and going on adventures had dread curling in my stomach. It couldn't be. That was years ago.

I swallowed, then averted my gaze. "What kind of friends?"

"The neighbor kind," She whispered. I closed my eyes, fighting the approaching headache.  Thankfully, Al didn't bother with the details.

That familiar feeling made sense. As if every part of my existence had been trying to tell me his identity ever since I'd set my eyes on him three years ago. My soul knew him before my mind did. I knew him as well as I knew myself. Right down to the last molecule. But he looked so different! He'd lost the glasses, gained weight, probably got braces but how had he found us? How did he remember me? My stomach dropped. All this time he had known and hadn't said anything. Why? Was he playing with me? Why had he chased us?

We should have never taken this case.

This whole mission was a mess. There had to be a way to survive this.

To get out without putting ourselves in danger.

"Scorpio said that the job was done."

"He sold the necklace?" Thank god for the tracking bug and reflective nature of my travel pouches. Al's brilliant invention had allowed our associate Scorpio to retrieve the diamond necklace from Mian Somoro's estate, right from where I'd left it, more than a month ago.

"The first payment is already in our accounts."

"Good. Divert the money to our island."

"Okay boss," Al eyed me and was quiet for so long, the unease within me tripled.

"What?"

"You know, your connection to Azaan would especially help your dealings with him."

The throbbing in my head skyrocketed. Too much. I was feeling too much. "I have no intention of dealing with him."

A small smile appeared on her face just as the plane took off. "But he has every intention of dealing with you."

Keeping my eyes closed, I answered her. "You mean he has every intention of using us."

"That's not what I said, Eliza, why are you being so negative?" Because one day his fascination with me was going to end and he'd get bored, wanting a safer option. He was going to learn of the crimes I'd committed and would run in the opposite direction. He'd know that I wasn't that bright-eyed girl who'd raced in cars with him and had pretended to be a part of the Famous Five or played Family. I wasn't the same girl who could just get up and dance with him. I wasn't the girl he knew. I could never be her.

And I just couldn't deal with that. I snuggled into the blanket, ignoring the rising pangs in my heart. "Rest up, we have a busy week in New York."

༻⸻⸻༺

The famous New York City waterfront skyline was plastered with skeletons of high-rises, escalating out of the low buildings and blinding lights. Al looked at the city with wide eyes, oblivious to the conflict within me. We settled into our hideout and when the sun shifted into the golden hues of late afternoon, Azaan led me towards the parking lot in the back, smiling in the weird cryptic way of his.

I stared at his back, my hands in my jacket pocket, the corners of my mouth tugging up in a reluctant smile. Why had he searched for us? Did he truly remember me? Had the past month been a ruse?

I just couldn't stop comparing the man in front of me to the boy I'd once known.

I could not stop seeing myself as a little girl, watchful, bossing him around, happy in my own world. We played together until one of our parents would drag us away. None of the kids my age could accept the full gamut of my emotions, but he did. He was the only one who stuck with me, who always forgave me when we started over the next day.

I imagined Azaan, catching up to me in height, then surpassing me. It was the first time I imagined him as a teenager. I looked at him—with our history, my run-down parents, our schooling, his teasing—and felt like I was finally close to finding something I'd lost long ago.

He stopped in front of a sleek black Audi, the headlights flashing as he unlocked the doors. The R8 V10 was exactly what I would have chosen for myself. Beautiful machinery designed to be fast.

"Like this?" Warmth spread from the tips of my toes all the way to the top of my head as triumph and pride shined in Azaan's eyes.

He remembered my love for shiny fast cars.

"Love it. Wouldn't it be a bit conspicuous?"

"If we drove a tattered car down that neighborhood, that would be conspicuous. A sleek black Audi? That's normal," Something fluttered in my chest watching his lips tip to one side.

Dangerous.

Stepping to the side, I waited for him. Azaan opened my door watching me slip onto the seat as impatience, anxiety, frustration gathered in me like a prickly cloud. He walked towards the driver's seat, his eyes covered under a pair of black sunglasses. He knew who I was, he had searched for me. What did that mean? Should I ask? Was it right to ask? Were there any rules on how to proceed?

Azaan started the car and sped out of the parking lot, a smirk on his face. I sighed and settled back into my seat. This was going to be a long drive.

༻⸻⸻༺