He had the baby. He had the one piece that mattered, the piece that Julian would burn everything to recover, including the performance, including the patience, including the careful architecture of whatever they had been building against him.
He needed to move before they moved. He needed a distraction. He looked at Yvette.
"You're a mother," he said slowly, as if the thought were arriving in real time rather than having been fully formed for thirty seconds already.
"A woman traveling with a baby raises no flags. No suspicion. Security, borders, cameras, they see a mother, and they look away." He met her eyes.
"I need someone to carry something. To move it without attracting attention. You do this for me, and I will find your daughter and bring her to you wherever you land."
Yvette looked at him.
"What am I carrying?" she said carefully. "Insurance," Kalian said.
The word sat between them.
