Nadeesha smiled and the young NGO worker responded in kind.
He was a young kid with one of the save-the-children type non-governmental organizations that scooted back and forth across the border everyday. She had told him that she was a freelance journalist who had gotten trapped behind enemy lines for several days. She had linked up with the western NGO and their two security contractors after coming across them doing a medical detail for children. She immediately struck up a rapport with the boy who was now sitting next to her in the car. Chet was one of their medics.
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