S.A.S.
Jack said, sliding to Susan’s cover, body between her and the world.
Her eyes found him under the lenses. Judgment. Hope. Refusal to cry.
“Jack McCormack. ASIO,” he said, offering a hand that looked too calm to be lying. “We’re getting you out.”
“Who are they?” she whispered.
“People who care a lot about what you know,” he said. “Move.”
He pushed her toward Sonja’s orbit. Sonja put one hand on the small of Susan’s back, the other up in a stop sign that meant, Do not be brave without permission. The world around them was a dropped tray of lives, clattering.
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