All the way to the jet, Tristan kept waiting for the sniper to take him in his sights, and did his best to avoid staying in the open. That, and food that could have been poisoned out of his sight.
Thankfully, their leave from the city came soon enough. Tristan didn't stay in Boston for a single extra minute.
Even in the jet, he stayed tense. After all, the assassin could have broken the plane in some minor way that would make it fall later, when Tristan would have no way of preparing for it.
Not that Tristan could just choose another transport–they were even less safe.
The jet's engineers made all their checks—Tristan insisted they were more careful than usual—and found nothing.
The sight of the ground below the flying jet was not inspiring at all today.
