Blitzed(92)

"So why follow him into the business? You said he had plenty of money, why not live the life of the trust fund child?" Jordan asked, certainly perplexed.

Francois shifted around uncomfortably and ran his hand through his hair. He got to his feet, then sat down before standing up again. “Excuse me, I think I need to get some fresh air."

I watched Francois pull his coat on and leave, closing the door loudly behind him. He crunched off into the woods, leaving behind myself and a very perplexed Jordan. "What's with him?”

I shook my head sadly. While he and I rarely spoke about it, I wasn’t ignorant to Francois’ inner demons, and the feelings he was struggling with. "There are things in our family history that cause stress between us. Some of it is related to what I’m telling you, and some of it is related to things that, well, will seem outlandish to you."

Jordan thought about it for a while, then nodded. "Is it really that much stress between the two of you? You seem to get along most of the time, like most brothers I know."

“We do, but let me continue," I said. "It’ll be easier that way. So, our father was a great art thief. As part of our culture growing up, both the Roma and the way he raised us, it was considered only natural that Francois and I follow in his footsteps. This has led to some of the stress between us, as Francois enjoys the process, while I’m more of your mindset. Even if we have to abandon this job, we have gotten enough money just from the work the two of us have done to make us rich men for the rest of our lives. I only agreed to do this job with Francois in order to help set him up further. He wants to be as secretly famous as our father was. It’s my duty as the lead brother to support him.”

"Lead brother? What exactly does that mean,” Jordan asked.

I sighed, knowing I was treading on thin ground. If I told Jordan the rest of the tale, even if I left out the names and specific details, she would be able to piece together enough for even a half decent police officer to track us down. Still, looking across at Jordan's inquisitive face and beautiful brown eyes, for some reason I trusted her. "This will be easier if I put it this way. Let me tell you a story. It's a strange tale, one filled with action, adventure, love, and rivalry. If someone filmed it, it could be better than The Princess Bride, although no studio would believe it.”

"It started nearly eighty years ago. The Nazis were in control of Germany at the time, and in their expansion, they started what came to be known as the Holocaust. While the Jews were the biggest targets of Nazi obliteration, another group that was highly targeted were the Rom. Backed by their war machine, the Nazis stole hundreds of priceless artifacts from the Romani, many of which were thought lost to history. Fifty years later, one particular group of Rom tracked down the location of the most precious of their artifacts, a gold and ruby artifact that belonged to their ancestor, who received it from the great Kahn himself. The leader, you could call him the King of the Gypsy tribe, was desperate to get it back. This King, though, despite what the average person thought of the Gypsies, wasn't a natural thief. His people, while nomadic and proud, generally tried to get by using legal means. Still, he knew that sometimes for the Rom to receive justice, he needed to go outside the law. When he learned of the location, he knew there was only one man who might be able to get the item back.”

"Your father," Jordan said, leaning forward, caught up in the tale. "The art thief was your father?"

“Yep. The greatest art thief in the world for nearly thirty years, who had gone into semi-retirement. The Gypsy King approached the art thief, asking him to steal back what had been taken from them generations ago. At the time, it was in Russia, taken from the Nazis by the Soviets as they swept through Eastern Europe in 1945. Nestled within a bunker deep in the Ural mountains, it wasn't even publicly shown, except to the rich Russians who had influence with the government. Needless to say, it was a dangerous and difficult job.”

“So what did he do?”

“It took some convincing, considering my father had more money than he’d ever need already. So instead, he offered one of his daughters in marriage.”

“An arranged marriage?" Jordan asked, shuddering.

I nodded. I'd grown up with it, and it still seemed wrong to me, despite the happy ending to the story. "It is a different culture, at a different time. My father, he was a lonely man. He didn’t feel he could trust anyone enough to bring them into his heart, and because of this was looking at the rest of his life in miserable solitude, surrounded by material riches only. When he met the King's daughters, though, he was enchanted, for they were beautiful, nearly as beautiful as you. He agreed to the King's terms, and undertook the mission and was successful.”

"So which daughter did he choose?" Jordan asked, smiling. She was into the story, viewing it like an adventure tale, which I suppose it was. "I assume she’s your mother."

I smiled, leaning back. Every good story deserves a twist. “That was the conundrum. After the mission, the King hosted the thief with his family, giving the him time to choose between the two daughters. Despite the cold-hearted sound to his offer, the King wanted his daughters to be happy with their future. So he wanted them to be comfortable, and maybe even like the man they were to marry. However, as time went on, the thief found himself more and more torn. He’d fallen in love with both of them, and couldn’t choose. He approached the King, telling him of his problem, and an agreement was reached. Let the daughters choose.”