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   Chapter 27 No.27

Ria, are you ok? By Bruno Maiorana Characters: 5668

Updated: 2018-04-10 12:02


The second time was a five-week trip with Gwen to visit Japan and Korea as a graduation gift for ourselves when we finished high school. We didn't really get along with the rest of the class so we decided to spend it just the two of us. It was the first time we had traveled somewhere so far away on our own. That in itself was enough to trigger that tingling sensation in our stomachs.

At first, it was supposed to be a three-week trip around Japan but Gwen got drunk and we somehow ended up on a ferry to Korea with a homeless-looking Japanese salaryman we were drinking sake with at an Izakaya bar somewhere in the Osaka Namba area. The man could barely walk but he still proposed we all go to Korea for holidays. Gwen cheered "Yes! Let's go to Korea!" and for some reason, the three of us left the bar and got onto the next ferry to Korea together. Gwen and the guy passed out on and slept like babies during the twenty-hour ferry ride.

I dozed off while keeping an eye on my alcoholic friend to make sure she was still sleeping next to me. When we arrived in Korea I exchanged some money on the ferry (and purposely lost sight of the Japanese guy because he was too weird, childish and awkward). I had enough with having to babysit one drunk person, two was more than I could handle.

As we got off the ferry in Busan, Gwen woke up but didn't say a word. She grabbed my arm and walked clumsily clinging on to me as she had done countless times before back in Vancouver. She was seemingly unaware that we weren't in Japan anymore, and I decided not to tell her, out of sheer curiosity, to see how long it would take her to figure it out. We followed the rest of the passengers to see wher

ed our ferry tickets. They called our embassy and everything was OK in the end.

When I got past the arrival gate at Islamabad International Airport, there was just one foreigner waiting among the locals for passengers to arrive. It was Peter.

41 - Hamza

The car smelled like apples. Actually, everything smelled like apples, and it was kind of nice. Ahmed and I drove down to the famous Babusar pass, which is on the way back to Islamabad; the place where we would be meeting Peter in about twelve hours. I confessed to Ahmed I wasn't one hundred percent sure who Peter was, but I thought it was the guy who had given me a ride to the airport a few days before and I'd never thought he would actually contact me or come this way.

We agreed it was still worth a shot. And we should assess the situation on the spot when we meet him. If he's who I think he is, he'll be perfect for our business. Young, tall, fit, curious and na?ve. We would just need to get to know him for a couple of days to make sure he didn't tell anyone that he would be meeting me there to make sure no one would miss him or come looking for him.

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