Strains of Vivaldi floated through the air while Matt sat and tried to relax. It was only early afternoon, but it felt like this morning was at least a year gone. He really wanted a fresh change of clothes and a long hot shower. Without the former though, the latter didn’t make much sense.
Jose came downstairs and entered the media room. He saw the man that he would always think of as his kid brother even though they were the exact same age. Both had seen far, far too much violence in their younger days, but in Matt’s case it was in one titanic explosion. Jose had been involved in gangs, drugs, and had shot two people by the time he was ten. Both of those people had lived, but one boy had lost the use of his legs. He ascribed his reformation to equal parts Mama G and Mother Mary.
Mama G had actually adopted Jose when he was eleven and a year later Matt arrived. The boys couldn’t have been more different if one had been a Martian, but somehow they got along. At first it was because neither of them wanted to be there. As nice as Mama’s was and as much as she loved her children it wasn’t easy. Once they had run away together for the second time it was decided that they would be friends for life. Jose taught Matt all about his Hispanic culture and about cars. Matt taught Jose about the Bible and reading. Jose still credited his brother for being turned on to learning and computers.
Matt left four years later and it was hard for them both. They kept in touch though and when Matt came out of the Army it was a natural for him to come back to where he thought of as home. “You ‘sleep man?” Jose asked, just over the violins.
The recliner popped up. “Nah. Couldn’t do it. Too wired. Who was on the phone?”
Jose didn’t want to tell him. He knew Matt practically worshipped Pastor Chris, but he sucked it up. “It was Robin. Pastor Chris is dead.”
Matt stood and faced Jose. He didn’t say anything.
Jose remembered that look from when Matt had returned from the Middle East. It was a constant look of intensely controlled anger. He understood that it was one of the reasons for his brother’s nickname. “I know hermano, we’ll get the bastard. Right now we need to get packed and head to Mama’a house.”
“Robin okay?” That look softened just a bit. Even mentioning her name could soothe him just a little.
“Yeah, she’s okay. She’s gonna meet us there.” Jose elected not to mention the sighting of the bastard in question. “You ready to roll out?”
Matt scrubbed his face with his hands. “Yeah. What’s the plan?” He walked to Jose and stood in close proximity, trying to borrow some of his warmth and energy.
“We’re gonna stop and pick up something a little more suitable to ride into the country and a few necessaries besides.” Mama’s house was way out in the sticks, a good hour and a half up some back roads.
“Necessaries, huh?” Matt smirked a little. Jose had that old, old gleam in his eye.
Jose smirked back. “Well if that big fucker has the notion to sniff us out and has any friends I want us to be ready. Plus you need some clothes and assorted odds and ends. I made some calls while you weren’t sleeping so don’t worry; we won’t have to go out in public. You’re face is all over the tube right now.”
“Great.” There was no enthusiasm in his voice.
“So let’s go do this.” He clapped Matt on the shoulder. He saw something else familiar in his brother’s face, but asked anyway. “What’s up?”
“Chris is dead and if I’m not careful then I’ll get you, Robin, and Mama killed too. I should really do this myself.”
Jose backhanded Matt’s shoulder. “That’s b.s. man. I told you before, I’m a big boy. Mama and Robin are grown too, more important than that we’re family. You messed up and we’ll deal with that latter. Right now someone wants to serve up some revenge and it’s my job as your big brother to keep you safe and make sure that he’s in no position to do so.”
Matt smiled. It was a fragile thing, but it was there. “You’re only older than me by three months, one week, two days, three hours, fifty-seven minutes, and thirty-two seconds and thanks. You’re right, family sticks together. Let’s ride.”
They left the poshly furnished basement and went up to the living room. Jose grabbed a large attaché. While Matt had been downstairs Jose had changed into a pair of dark blue, neatly pressed carpenter’s jeans. Its many pockets held a host of electronics. He topped that off with a long sleeve, heavy weight cotton shirt with a big picture of El Santo on the front. “Here.” He handed Matt and oversized red jacket and a midnight blue hat with a swoosh on the front. “A little ghetto camo.”
Matt put on the jacket and hat. They fit well enough. He slouched, going against years of military training. A stout duffle bag made of black ripstop nylon sat near the garage door. He grabbed it and nearly dislocated his shoulder. It wasn’t actually that heavy, but he wasn’t expecting the weight of it. “What the heck are you packin’?”
“Well I’ve got my laptop here.” Jose patted the duffle. “And some equipment for… connectivity in there.”
Matt knew better than to ask any more questions. He doubted he’d understand the answer anyway. When he and Robin talked computers it was all Greek to him. They dropped the bags in the trunk and a few minutes later the Jag pulled out into the street and the waning sunlight. He quickly lost track of all the twists and turns that Jose took. He knew that his brother was working to lose anyone that might be tailing them. It was almost certain that no one could follow them without being noticed.
After about thirty minutes of driving in silence, not even the sound of the radio, they pulled into an unlit gas station. A dark brown Jeep Cherokee sat by itself. Jose broke the sound fast. “That’s our ride.” He shut off the engine and the two men climbed out. After they got the bags, Jose threw the key onto the front seat and shut the door.
“You’re not just going to leave this here?” Matt was a bit incredulous.
Jose nodded towards a lake of shadow. A single red eye winked. “Everything’s taken care of. No way in hell I’d leave this baby unattended.”
Matt took the heavy bag and followed Jose to the back of the Jeep. The rear hatch opened and revealed three large duffels and a small wooden crate. He sat his on top and Jose secured his laptop bag in a side cargo net. They circled around, Jose taking the driver’s side. The vehicle was pretty beaten up, with a few rust patches here and there and some bondo and primer adding to its drab palate of colors. Inside though, it was sound enough and comfortable. More important than that was the smell. “Enchiladas and strong coffee. I love you man.”
There was a bag for each of them and cups in the holders. The ground beef and chiles were hot enough for even Jose to have to slow down a little. Hunger fought against self-preservation and hunger won out. The coffees were laced with sugar and cinnamon. Fifteen minutes later the engine sparked to life. It sounded better than it had any right to and the men felt better for having fed. They rode in silence, each full of questions and knowing that there would be a time for that tomorrow. Each also took the opportunity to lift several of those questions to the one in the best position to answer, even though they knew those answers might be long in coming.
