"We have a new way to get you out of the country," our deeply-voiced business partner said, his voice crackly over the satellite linkup. While normally using a sat phone gives you nearly crystal clear quality, the weather in the mountains was still poor, and trying to get a signal through the trees was sometimes an iffy proposition. "But it will involve some action on your part."
"What do you mean?" I asked warily. Felix was right, never trust a Spaniard. We have both known too many Spaniards. "We had an agreement."
"That was when you had enough in potential sales to pay for an escorted extraction from the heart of Southern California," our agent replied. "But the people involved weren’t willing to do that for the price I could offer them."
"What's the deal then?" I asked, growling in frustration. "Am I supposed to drive us to Mexico by myself now?"
"No, no, that wouldn't be useful at all," our agent said. The man could not even tell when I was being sarcastic. You can’t do business with a half-French half-Rom if you can’t detect sarcasm, plain and simple. "But you will need to leave the cabin. There is a small ranch airstrip, in between Victorville and Barstow that your new escorts are flying into. There will be a small plane waiting at the airport just after sunset. It will wait for exactly thirty minutes, then take off. If you are not on it . . .”
"I got it, we'll be getting our asses out of California," I said. "What is the address?"
He read me the directions, as well as a set of latitude and longitude, just in case. I copied it all down onto a piece of paper, then tapped the point of my pencil on the pad. "We’ll be expecting our money as soon as we are out of the country," I said, changing subjects. "Will that be a problem?"
"Not at all," he said. "We will have your portion of the money when you get off the plane. Of course, there will be a significantly lower amount since you did not get out with all the previously agreed upon items.”
"Of course. We will meet your pilot tomorrow."
I hung up the phone and went outside to find Felix and Jordan screwing the caps on the last of the water cans. "We have a meet-up," I said. "But it’s not what you wanted."
"Oh, how so?" Felix asked. He lifted the heavy cans, one in each hand while Jordan stuffed her hands back into her pockets. "Inside, if it can wait five seconds."
Inside the cabin, I told Felix about our agent's instructions, his face clouding as the details emerged. He muttered under his breath before sighing. "It’s unavoidable. All right, let's pack up, and make sure that everything is ready to go tomorrow."
I looked at Jordan, who was shifting from side to side. "Jordan, I’m sorry. I know we said that we'd give you the ride when we left, but with this change, that can’t happen. What about if we give you the satellite phone instead? With that and the address, you can easily call the police for help as soon as we are gone."
Jordan shook her head, her eyes blurring with tears. Felix came over and cupped her chin, looking her in the eye. "What is it? We promised you your freedom, and you’ll have it."
She shook her head again, the first tear trickling down her cheek. “It’s not that. I just don't want this to end."
"What?" I asked, joining her and Felix by the small table. Felix's hand dropped and he ran one through his hair, his eyes clouding over with emotion as he understood what Jordan was asking.
"This time with you both," she said softly, looking from Felix to me and back. "I don't want this to end. The time with you both, the feeling I've had. I don't want that to end."
"Come now," I said, brushing one of her tears away. While I felt similar, I always knew this time was approaching. The fantasy would have to end. "You'll be able to have a real bed, a real shower, and warm toilets. That can't be so bad."
Jordan shook her head in negation again. "I'd rather have camp food, a crowded bed, and a frozen ass from the toilet seat."
"Come — enough of that," I said, looking up at Felix, whose face was pinched with thought. He obviously had not set up the same internal defenses I had, and her tears were getting through to him. "The life of a thief is hardly one for a beauty such as you, Jordan Banks."
"You could be helpful, though," Felix said, looking at her, ignoring my thoughts. "After all, we would be much more secure if you came with us, at least to the airport. We could still use a hostage if it is necessary."
"What are you saying, you fool?" I spat to Felix. "Jordan hasn't been our hostage."