Thanks to Puerto Rico’s status as an American dependency, English was one of the more prominent languages on the signage about them, which allowed them to find their way rather easily, and Meinwen was grateful to be able to duck into a washroom close to the car hire.
She’d not really felt the need to use a washroom until they’d disembarked — for which she was grateful, as she wasn’t sure she’d wanted to use an airplane’s washroom — but as they’d sought the washroom she’d started to feel the need keenly, and so was grateful to have addressed that need.
Exiting the washroom, Meinwen stopped to remind herself where the car hire was, as Hilton had taken her bag. Before she could set off toward the car hire, however, she felt someone close behind her, and something poking at her spine.
“If you don’t wanna die, don’t scream,” a threatening voice with the accent from the telephone box warned lowly.
“What do you want?” Meinwen whispered, a chill of fear surging over her and making her voice tremble.
“Just walk calmly,” the voice — a man’s — warned. “As if we’re together.”
Meinwen turned her head toward the car hire and the prick in her back immediately hurt more.
“Forward,” the man warned.
Turning her head forward, Meinwen kept walking, obeying the man’s directions out of the building and over to where a black people carrier was parked. The side door was opened and she was ordered inside.
She recognised the dreadlocked driver, as well as the two men dressed like bodyguards sitting in the seats beside the rear passenger doors. In the rear seat, to the one side, was Dr. Stiles.
“Is this the one?” the man behind her asked.
Dr. Stiles cringed, then nodded.
“Get in,” the man behind her ordered.
Meinwen climbed in and went to the backseat. Dr. Stiles patted the small space that was partially overtaken by his being too wide to fit in one seat, but Meinwen chose to sit against the wall opposite him, behind both the seat of the driver, and the seat of one of the two fake bodyguards.
The door she’d entered through was closed and the front passenger door was opened, the man who’d found her climbing in and fastening his seatbelt.
Fastening her own seatbelt, Meinwen looked toward the airport, wishing that she would see Hilton running out of the building to save her, but she saw no sign of him as the people carrier pulled away from the kerb.
“Thanks for trying to save me,” Dr. Stiles whispered.
Meinwen looked over at him, feeling a sense of dread that he’d seen her as he’d been going through the airport, and had recognised her despite her casual attire; what was worse, she feared that he’d actually dared speak aloud his recognition, and that such was why she was here.
She turned away to look out the window beside her as the people carrier made its way out of the airport complex and soon headed toward a bridge across a large body of water. Meinwen wished she’d not been recognised by Dr. Stiles, and particularly that he hadn’t been so foolish as to give away his recognition of her.
Owing to my local electrical services provider's need to perform routine maintenance in my area, I will be unable to post tomorrow; the novel will continue on Wednesday.
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