I stand in the queue for boarding, one of Rafael's men at my side accompanying me and the other not to far behind for back up. I caught a glimpse of myself a while back as we entered Belgorod Airport in a big glass door; I look drawn pale and weak on Abel's arm. I have only recently learnt of their names despite them having been hanging around me now for at least a week and a half. He moves forward and I almost lose my balance. The queue is long and I've been daydreaming about Peter wondering how he is.

I've been gone only a day, we have travelled across country to reach Belgorod and I'm in a daze as I continue to think that when we left, well I was forced and pulled away from Peter's side that he looked so weak. He looked paler than he originally did, his skin covered in small beads of cold sweat his skin, leathery and freezing to the touch. His lips had been slightly parted as I kissed him goodbye and whispered for him to stay strong. As I was loaded into the car with Abel and his colleague I had begged Mr Azarov to get Peter help. He sniggered at me and made a deal with me. "You be a good girl and do your job and if you succeed I will get him professional help." I would have to succeed for Peter's sake, to save his life.

"Your passport Ms?" the attendant asks sternly. Abel glances over from the attendant the other side. "Sorry, my fault I forgot to give my wife her passport, she doesn't speak English, my apologies" he says reaching into his blazer inside pocket and producing a Spanish passport. He hands it to the attendant and nods in an attempt to apologise again before turning back to the attendant inspecting his passport. My eyes have widened slightly as I stand nervously before the older gentlemen examining my fake passport and me closely. I'm literally shaking as soon as Abel gets a grip on me again he's going to tell me to stop being so obvious.

I'm relieved when he nods and hands the passport back to me but before I can lift my hand to take it Abel snatches it and thanks the man. He grips my arm tightly and pulls me through, it's quite violent why do these Russian's not notice or is it just the standard procedure here 'pull fake wife around and get away with it.' I widen my eyes once more in surprise.

When we reach the boarding lounge he sits me down in one of the little leather seats. He takes a seat next to me and then lifts his hand swiftly grabbing mine and holding it so tight it begins to go numb from the lack of blood flow. "You need to settle down," he hisses at me through a tight-lipped smile. His dark eyes shine bright as he stares into mine looking for my understanding. "Sorry" I whisper inaudibly. He turns away his focus resting on his colleague across the departure lounge, he nods to him and he nods back.

Before I left we had a lengthy debriefing about my job, I'm to go first when the flight to Thailand is called and Abel and Emilio will follow. I've been warned of the consequences if they find me out and I must not get caught after all I don't want to let Peter down, he's counting on me to get him the medical support he needs. We wait nervously I'm violently shaking as the Russian air is ice cold and snow and ice have blanketed the streets outside. I can see icicles hanging from the large glass-viewing window of the lounge and a light flurry of snow has begun falling. I've been re-dressed as I was finally re-united with my bag. They selected a pair of black leggings and I'm glad I packed my boots, maybe my sub conscious knew all this was going to happen because heavens knows why else I would have packed velvet mid heeled calf length boots for a sailing trip! A large grey jumper also selected to cover my small black vest top and then a thick black fitted coat that is not mine but fits perfectly. I can't help but think whom it belongs to or worse still belonged to.

I'm rudely interrupted from my thoughts as Abel hands me a boarding pass and tells me my flight is about to be called. As I take the flimsy ticket from his firm grasp I hear them call, rising to my feet I take a deep breath and head towards the gate. As I approach I glance over my shoulder, no Abel but Emilio is not far behind. My breathing is shallow and I'm pretty sure I look suspicious. I have a considerable amount of make up on to hide the fact I'm still ill but you can still see it. Reaching the young lady checking tickets I smile and try desperately to relax. She greets me warmly with a big smile and takes my ticket. I stand with my arms folded across my middle and stare at my feet as she barely glances at the ticket and hands it straight back letting me board.

I walk slowly down the tunnel as instructed by Abel; I'm to wait for Emilio to escort me to the plane. Reaching half way I'm disturbed by a row I hear, Emilio is charging down the corridor chased by the guard. I stand flush against the soft lining of the walkway following the actions of a couple just ahead of me who looked alarmed at the events unfolding. I try my best to look surprised but I don't understand what has gone wrong. All Emilio had to do was hand her his ticket and board as I had done previously.

The guard tackles him to the floor and I jump as they grab him and tackle him to the floor. Emilio is very slimy, his skin greasy and a long black tangled mess of greasy hair to match. He's not very old I suspect early twenties. He tries to wrestle against the guard but fails miserably as they slap him in cuffs. I watch on in horror, maybe they have found out what we're carrying but I almost scream when I feel a tight grip grab my arm. Looking round I see it's only Abel. I put my hand over my chest and try to calm my heart rate. "You scared me," I whisper. He smiles and then nods in the direction of Emilio. "He's been caught, don't look at him," he warns so I stare down at my feet. They pull Emilio up and onto his feet. "Sorry for the inconvenience ladies and gentleman" says the guard as he pushes Emilio forward. I glance up to see him flash a terrified look in Abel's direction but he just looks away.

"Walk" Abel orders as he digs his fingers into my arm and pulls me forward to the airplane doorway. Another attendant welcomes us and guides us to a seat. Abel gestures for me to go first and take the window seat and then places himself beside me. Just after take off I summon up the courage to ask what will have become of Emilio, I have an idea and am not sure I want to know but I'm curious. He glares at me and I think he's angry that I bought it up. I sink into my seat as he takes a deep breath. "He will be dead meat now, you know the drill you were warned" he reminds me.

I sit remembering films I've watched over the years with Liam and Paul when we were younger about gangs and international crimes, smuggling and such. I then think back to all the warnings Rafael and Mr Azarov gave before I left. It's the death penalty for drug trafficking in Russian and in Thailand it's lethal injection, they've warned me not to act suspicious but I just feel I am. After all I'm stuffed with drugs, they are in the lining of my coat and the lining on my bra. Cocaine lined clothing the next big trend. I keep focused on the task for Peter's sake. We have a long flight and Abel tells me I must rest, he has meds for me, as I've not yet fully recovered from my hypothermia but they thought I was fit enough for the job. I close my eyes and begin to drift off just hoping I don't have any flashbacks.