Blitzed(100)

Chapter 12





Felix





The drive away from the cabin was almost totally silent the next morning as we pulled away. Francois was driving, having maneuvered the fire trail other times before while Jordan sat in the front passenger seat and I sat in the back behind her. When we reached the Rim of the World Highway, I was able to get a signal to our disposable smartphone and loaded the address that Francois had gotten the day before from our agent into the mapping program. According to the estimates, it would take us approximately three hours to get there. We could have cut nearly an hour and a half off the travel time by taking the Interstate, but by using State roads and highways, we were minimizing the chances of encountering a police officer. The Jeep was in the clear, but we wanted to be sure. Jordan's face was most likely all over the news still as a missing person.

"I hate this," Francois grumbled as we made another sharp turn heading toward Big Bear. The road was very twisting, curving along the mountainside so tightly that even my stomach was making complaints. “It's too damn close to major population centers."

"I'm more worried about you two taking off within fifteen miles of Edwards Air Force Base," Jordan said, and I shook my head. She was well meaning, but not yet all that aware of the realities of my world. I'd already researched some of this, and while the details were different from the original plan, much of my research held true.

"I'm not worried about that, they only have test aircraft. So many of those ranches around there have small airfields that they're probably used to it. I would hate to know what sort of contraband is moved in and out of Southern California through those hundreds of tiny little dirt strips. As long as we don't get pulled over by a police officer, we're going to be fine."

Jordan looked over her shoulder, her eyes large and dark with concern and unasked questions. The night before, she had practically begged through her music, and I knew what she wanted. She wanted to come with us, to be swept away. Her mind was whirling with the romance, with the freedom.

I wanted the same thing. Still, Francois words haunted me. I was worried I hadn't told her enough about the bad times as well, but my mind was made up. The life of a thief, especially a Gypsy thief, is not an easy one. I had spent the entire night pondering my own greed, my own desire to feel Jordan's lips on my own and her body snuggled against mine. It was overwhelming my logical thinking. It wasn't until early in the morning that I was able to make my decision and go to sleep.

"Are you sure?" she asked, her lip nearly quivering.

I reached up and patted her shoulder. "We'll be fine, Jordan. I promise you, things will be just fine."

For the next two hours, Francois steered us expertly along the winding, twisted highway. We crested the mountains just north of Big Bear and started down into the California desert, the hard desert where only the hardiest of native plants and animals lived. "Think we can pick up speed?" I asked.

"Why? It would be useless to arrive early unless you plan on getting some Taco Bell to take on the flight out of here," Francois said, shaking his head. "If that's the case, I'm sure I can find somewhere we can do drive-through."

"No, not at all. I guess I'm just anxious, that's all," I replied, looking out the window. There was a harsh beauty to the desert, and I thought about my homeland. It had been nearly six months since I'd seen Europe, and far longer since I'd been to what was best described as home. As beautiful as it was, it wasn't the same sort of beauty as the arid vistas around us. I'd remember the California desert for a long time, I knew for sure. "Jordan, would you turn on the radio? I need something to distract my mind."

"Sure," Jordan said softly, switching on the Jeep's radio. Hitting the search function, the first three options were talk radio, an NBA basketball game, and country music that was so horrible Jordan did not even need to be asked to change the channel.

The fourth time, however, I was greeted by an almost familiar melody. I listened more, then realized Jordan had played it the night before on the guitar, in a piece that was originally meant for violins, piano, and a full orchestral background. Steven Tyler's vocals kicked in, and I heard a song I hadn't listened to since my teen years, speaking directly to my heart as I thought about Jordan. "I don't want to miss a thing," I said softly as I looked at her rich cherry wood hair. "I don't want to miss a thing."

"What was that, Felix?" Francois asked, his eyes flickering to me in the rearview mirror. I knew he was concerned about me, but he would understand my decision.

"Nothing. How are we looking for time?"

"Just fine. In fact, we should probably make a stop for refreshments and to make our timing better," he said. "Are you worried about making our rendezvous?"

"No," I said quietly. "Just thinking about other things."

Jordan looked back at me again, her eyes pleading silently, and I had to blink and look out the window to not say what I wanted to say right then. It wasn't the right time, and Francois would have flipped out. I'd rather have that happen when he couldn’t throw one of his infamous tantrums. He never did learn the value of self-control, something our father had tried to teach him over and over and over again. It was what held him back from reaching his potential as a thief and, sometimes I thought, as a man.