HIDING PLACE 

Plot: John Peters just wanted to get away for a few months. Was that too much to ask? But things were not happening as he liked it…then something impossible happened and he did something crazy…What the hell is he thinking?!

NOTE: This story was inspired by the actor Pedro Pascal (Game of Thrones, Narcos, Mandalorian)

Warning: If you're sensitive about the word 'fuck', 'shit', 'asshole' or any profanity better not read since I'm going to use them liberally.

HIDING PLACE

CHAPTER 4

I have a new word for you today: Hyper-vigilance.

It's a word used for people who take in every minute detail of what's around them when they're in stressful situations.

This bad boy is one of them.

My stress kicked in hard as the cab stopped at the village gate; tall and sturdy, the curls and whorls painted gold.

Beautiful. Goddamn…

If that's what the gate looked like I could just imagine…a uniformed guard walked out from his booth: with a side arm and a baton. I spied another guy in the booth with same equipment PLUS an effing rifle…

I think I could tell how many heartbeats I made in a minute and counted how many steps the guard took to the cab.

I told you: hyper-vigilance…because this bad boy is trying to hold his shit together!

The guard peered into the back of the car; dark eyes scanning our faces, inspecting what's inside the cab…thorough. Although she's asleep the guard knew her and said her name with a nod and a smile. That's something…

"Sir?" the guard is looking at me now. Uh-uh, I thought, as the guard asked me in local.

"Her husband," pointing at us, our friendly driver saved me who explained I don't speak the language well. The guard leaned over to the driver. "He said he didn't know her husband is here." The driver said with a chuckle.

"Uh, yeah, work.' I casually scratched my forehead with a steadier hand. "I just come back once in a while." I shrugged and gave them what I hope is a dazzling smile. I look at the guard who is nodding as I speak. So… no need for a translator…good to know.

"I.D. please."

Shit. I could literally feel my feet getting colder by the minute as the security guy counter checks my picture and face on my passport.

"This is normal." The taxi driver means the checkpoint. He gestures at some of the houses that, from what I could see from up here, almost occupy a whole freaking block! "They have very good security here…big houses, rich people. I hear many are politicians and military people. They like it here I guess?" the driver continued, nodding. "Nice place…"

Fuck! I almost blurted. Oh shit… Don't let her be a daughter of a politician, or worse, someone's relative from the military, I pray. I give my cheek a worried rub feeling the two week old beard scrape under my nails. An exit plan might be in order…Kissing her hair hid the jitters. I start praying to all deities that she stay asleep longer.

"Sir?" The driver points at the guard and I try to reach for my passport with steady hands. I hope my jolt didn't look guilty. The guard slowly walked back to the security booth talking on the radio. "Okay…very strict," The cabbie released the breaks as the boom rose up from the gate.

Finally, we can go. I can go to the bathroom… I try to exhale slowly.

"Hey! Hey!" It's the guard. There were two sharp whistle blasts.

The driver looks back and stops the car.

Shit. Is this it?

The guard quickly tapped the passenger window. The man looked serious.

I hide my balled up left fist behind my carryall. Surreptitiously I look back beyond the gate if there's somewhere I can make a quick run and escape if ever I get found out. I'm a decent runner. I reckon I could outrun the slightly potbellied guard but I'm not so sure about the rifle totting other guard. Is he a decent shot?

I feel some heat down my chest as fear spreads its tentacles over my body. If I begin to sweat….

No. Do not to think about that.

Do. Not.

We're almost there.

Once the window rolled down both men talk rapidly in native language and gestures fly animatedly. I just tilt my head when the guard pointed at the two of us in the back seat.

Act cool. Act cool.

"What's the problem?" my voice turns husky as I pushed my dark glasses up my nose.

"I went this way." The driver and the guard wave at each other as the window rolls up again and the car turns to the first left corner. "Wrong way!" the cabbie shook his head at his mistake. "We are almost there."

"Yeah? Good."

"That must be a long flight…" the cabbie comments when I yawned to hide my relief.

"Yeah." The man drives slowly keeping within the village speed limit looking alert for the landmarks.

I refuse to jaw-drop at the row upon row of upscale houses. The village looked like it had been here for quite some time judging from some of the dated house designs but many of the newly constructed ones along the streets looked impressively modern, expensive and posh looking. Matter of fact, there was a huge newly built house just at the corner where the cab driver took the first turn.

I glance at the woman cuddled so warmly next to me; she looks so…

"You look cute together!" the driver grins from the rearview mirror. "Sorry, man!"

"It's okay." I chuckle with him. "But you are right, she is cute." I smile and affectionately caress her arm…and I ask myself: what would she do when she wakes up?

Brace yourself, man.

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