Now that we had crossed the border, I had fifteen minutes at most to decide if I wanted to admit that I was the traitor. I had no way to be sure that the Feds were tracking us but I had activated the GPS just as they had taught me to and there was no reason to believe anyone had suspected me of betrayal. As far as the rest of the team was concerned, our real worries involved random encounters in the shadows along the highway.
Read more in "If The World Never Knows Our Names" in Yellow Mama.
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