David Bernard shivers in his seat and tries not to show it. The cargo plane isn’t particularly well insulated or heated—enough to keep them from freezing to death, but not much more than that. LaFleur emerges from the cockpit, nods to David, and motions for him to follow as he passes. David gets up, stretches, and follows LaFleur into the cargo area. It’s even colder here. LaFleur, characteristically, doesn’t look the slightest bit uncomfortable.
“It’s time to tell you what we’re doing,” he says.
David nods once and pulls out his notepad from his vest.
“We’re going to try to get to Port Libertad,” LaFleur says. “Unfortunately, there’s no available map, and a compass is going to be useless, but it’s on the west side of the island…”
“Why no map?” David asks.
“Because the island isn’t actually here.”
David looks up sharply. “It isn’t here?”
LaFleur nods. “It’s my fault, I’m afraid.”
David stops writing and puts his notepad away. “Maybe you should talk a little before I start taking notes.”