Blitzed(122)

"Guillaume and I never actually married," Charani said softly, her voice dropping as she spoke. I looked up in shock and she smiled hauntingly. "The law wouldn’t allow for it. So while by Romani tradition we were man and wife, legally only Syeira and Guillaume were married. My father insisted on that. So when the boys were born, we made sure it was overseas, as you know. American citizenship is valuable, after all. When we came back to France, the locals assumed that Francois was Syeira's child as well, as the boys are too similar to say that I had a child from another man. Thankfully, I wasn’t one of those women who showed a lot in early pregnancy before we left this area. Even still, there were some who would have it be known that Francois is, at least under the law, nothing but Guillaume's bastard."

“Geez,” I muttered wonderingly under my breath. "No wonder Francois is resentful. Tell me, does he have any legal standing in the family fortune?"

Charani nodded. "When Guillaume was diagnosed with cancer, he made sure his affairs were in order. Half of his money, that which he had after giving the dowry to my father, he split evenly between Syeira and myself. The rest he gave to Francois."

"None for Felix?" I asked, surprised. "Why?"

"My father was already dead, his money had passed down to Felix and Francois. Felix was made much richer, although to his credit, he doesn’t use it for personal gain. He shares with the rest of us. He's even tried to rectify what he can, giving Francois the lion's share of every job they do. The mathematics are complicated, but I don’t think Felix cares about the money. He cares about his brother."

"Still, there are hurt feelings," I said. "Do you think they can ever be healed?"

Charani pointed at me. "That is entirely up to you, Jordan. I think it can. If your love is anywhere as pure as what it seems to be, I’m sure of it."



"Paris again?" I asked when the brothers came back into the house near sunset. When they looked at me askance, I shrugged and pointed to the laptop in the corner, the house one. "I saw the disc."

"It seems like it," Felix said after going over and closing the files, then coming to give me a kiss on the cheek. "But first, we have to do some traveling. There are things we need to acquire in order to be able to circumvent the security that the Institute has."

"What do you need?" I asked, curious.

Francois handed over a list on paper. "Most of that we can get in France, but there are a few items that none of our French sources have. We might need to go to Germany for them. Just think, we did talk about going to Germany, but I hadn't planned on it until closer to Octoberfest."

"Germany? I like the sound of that," I said. "When?"

"Whoa, wait a second," Francois replied. "This isn't exactly a sight-seeing trip. We're talking about obtaining electronics and other things needed for our job. The people we'd be talking with aren't wearing lederhosen and happily guzzling beer."

"I know that," I said, a bit pissed off. While I understood Francois's concern, I’d come to terms with the situation. I wasn't a child, after all. "In case you hadn't noticed, Germany happens to be one of the biggest centers of hard rock and metal music in Europe. I've learned a lot about the scene over there. But what you have to get through that impressively handsome yet thick skull of yours, is that I’m not going to be some damsel in distress sitting around on my ass waiting while you two run off committing felonies all over the continent. I may not go on the job with you, but I’m going to be involved and with you as much as I can."

I was breathing hard, staring a hole into Francois, the air heavy with tension, when musical laughter came from behind us. Turning my head, I saw Charani and Syeira both holding their sides, laughing quietly. "She's the one!" Charani said, looking at us. "For sure."

"She is," Syeira added. "Handsome yet thick skull!"

Both women started laughing again, and Francois threw his hands up, storming out of the kitchen area. I looked at Felix, who shrugged. "If you want to come along, then so be it. But you’re going to be on the sidelines.”





Chapter 21





Francois





I couldn’t believe it the next morning when, at sunup, Felix led Jordan on a run through the vineyard, leading her up and down the rows until she was dripping with sweat and her legs quivered as she came back. I was preparing breakfast as they returned. "Should you really be doing that on a turned ankle?" I asked him when they came in. "You’ll be worse than useless if you’re hobbling around on the job."

“I’ll be fine, and the pace was easy," Felix replied casually. "It was a good way for me to work some flexibility back into it."

"You call it easy, but I'm about ready to die," Jordan gasped, her face slightly pale from her exertions. "What is a fast pace for you?"

"Five-minute miles on level ground," I answered, stirring breakfast in the sauté pan. I adore my mother's cooking, but I enjoy cooking for myself as well, and it does help me calm myself. "Usually for ten kilometers or so. What's that, six miles I think?"

"Yes," Felix replied, sitting down and unlacing his running shoe. He’d worn an ankle support under his sock, unstrapping it before pointing his toe and starting with the rehabilitation exercises that we'd learned as children, writing the alphabet with his big toe on the ground. It wasn't for strengthening as much as it was for keeping the joint supple and moving. "The biggest thing for you Jordan isn’t going to be combat or acrobatics. If you’re ever in such a position, things have gone very, very wrong. Instead, you’ll focus on evasion and escape, which is more using your eyes and your brain than anything else."