Page 52 of The Hitman's Secret Baby
"She said if you had to disappear, you ought to do it properly." He pauses, then adds, "She gave me full authority. Whatever I needed to make it real."
The car crests a rise in the road, and the sky behind us begins to pale.
I glance toward the rearview mirror.
No headlights yet.
But they'll come.
"How real?" I ask after a long silence.
Yarik exhales, adjusts his grip on the wheel.
"Real enough that if anyone goes looking for you, they won't find a girl. Only ashes."
I nod once.
It is what I asked for.
What I agreed to.
Still, my fingers tighten slightly in my lap.
We drive for another hour, slipping from city edges onto unmarked roads and rural stretches of brush and pine.
Eventually, Yarik veers off the coastal route, turning onto a thin access road that cuts through a stretch of scrubland, dry and bleached by the salt wind.
A single dirt path branches from it, angling sharply toward a narrow canyon lined with jagged rock and low brush.
He pulls the car to a stop just before the bend and turns to me.
"Time to get out," he says.
I obey without question.
My boots crunch against the gravel as I step into the cool dawn.
The light is rising now, but faintly, streaks of peach and gold just beginning to edge the horizon.
"What happens next?" I ask.
He opens the trunk and pulls out two things.
A long canister of gasoline.
And a duffel bag.
"I prepped another car. Same make, same model. We douse this one, send it off the edge. There are two bodies already in the trunk. Not fresh, but fresh enough."
He does not flinch when he says it.
Neither do I.
"And us?" I ask, watching him.
He zips open the duffel.
Inside are two sets of clothes, already scuffed and stained.
