18. Cash #2
We pulled up to a vineyard a few hours later.
The hot sun was setting in the distance, giving us a reprieve from the worst heat of the day.
My ass ached from sitting in the back of a pickup that rocked against the uneven ground, but I’d been in worse situations and was just glad to be off my feet for the time being.
But now, I was ready to work out the kinks and get a few hours of shut-eye. I was hoping FNG brought us to a friendly location, but knowing FNG, we could be anywhere.
I hopped down from the bed of the truck as we pulled to a stop. Groaning, I stretched out my back and nodded to the driver as he pulled away without another glance.
“Where the fuck are we?”
“Home,” FNG grinned.
I did a double-take, sure I had heard him wrong. “I’m sorry. Did you say home?”
“Well, as close to home as I can get. See, before I joined OPS, I worked at a vineyard.”
I vaguely remembered hearing that, but I had never actually assumed it was true. I just chalked it up to another one of FNG’s stories.
“But not this vineyard, right?”
FNG tossed his head back and laughed. “Of course, this vineyard. Did you think I would just drive us around and find any old vineyard to stop at?” He waved at us to follow him. “Come on. Let’s go meet the fam.”
I shook my head, unable to believe that FNG had actually lived here and worked at this particular vineyard. But then again, it was FNG.
We walked over a mile to get to the main house, all the while, FNG told us stories about his time here. It was odd to actually hear him finish one of his famous stories instead of leaving us hanging on every detail until he inevitably walked away without closing out the story.
By the time we reached the house, I was pretty sure I knew more about FNG in the last ten minutes than I had in the entire time he worked at OPS.
The stars twinkled above us as night fell in the Georgian sky. For just a moment, I was reminded of home, wishing I was back under the sky outside my house, sitting on my porch with Eva by my side.
Shaking that thought away, I focused on what was in front of me. If I got too caught up in the past, I would never make my way back home to my family.
“Giorgi!” FNG shouted as we approached the house.
“Ah, my friend!” the old man called out, getting out of his chair on the patio. “It has been long time since I see you.”
FNG walked over and scooped the old man into a hug, laughing the whole time. “Well, I had to come back for some of that delicious wine. You saved me a bottle, right?”
The man bellowed with laughter over something I didn’t understand, clapping him on the shoulders good-naturedly. “I save you the very best. Come, we drink together.”
“Ah, just a minute, Giorgi. I want to introduce you to my friends. This is Cash, and this is Thumper.”
The man’s smile faded as he took in Thumper’s appearance. “Is he man or woman?”
“Man,” FNG laughed. “It’s a costume gone wrong.”
“What is costume?”
FNG thought about it. “Well, you know how Levan likes to wear his wife’s shoes? It’s like that.”
“Ah!” Giorgi said, cocking his head at Thumper. “Is not good look for you.”
“Thanks,” Thumper muttered, adjusting his deflated boob.
“Come. Come. We drink.”
The old man headed back to the house, flipping on lights as he went. We followed, though I was reluctant to go inside. I didn’t know if anyone from the Shadow Government was still tracking me, and the idea that I might inadvertently draw anyone else into my troubles was worrying.
The house was humble and small, but full of a warmth that couldn’t be found in a lot of the stale houses of the United States.
There was so much culture wrapped up in this one room that made me wish I could grab my family and move to someplace remote like this, away from the chaos of our lives and the danger that would follow me everywhere.
But running away from my problems wouldn’t solve a damn thing. No matter where I ran, the Shadow Government was sure to follow. And that wouldn’t protect all the other people depending on me to keep them safe.
“Here. You drink,” Giorgi said, shoving a glass into my hand.
“Oh, no. I can’t?—”
“Drink,” FNG snapped, glaring at me unlike he ever had before. “It’s rude not to accept wine in this house.”
I was about to argue when Thumper surged forward and took his own glass, downing it in just under ten seconds. He leveled his gaze on me, telling me to drink the fucking wine.
So, I did.
Against everything in me, I drank the glass slowly and listened to the chatter around the room. I was itching to get back outside, to watch for any sign that someone was coming for us. I was in a foreign country. The last fucking thing I needed was to sit by idly while men were hunting me down.
“Giorgi, we need a place to lay low for the night. Can we take that room off the back?”
“Of course. Anything for my friend.”
“But ah…we’re sort of on the run.”
Giorgi laughed, slapping his knee. “My friend, when are you ever not in trouble? Go, I will have food for you in the morning.”
FNG grinned, giving the man a hug one last time. “Thanks, Giorgi. You’re a good man.”
“Yes, yes,” he nodded, shooing us out of the room.
I followed FNG, tired as fuck and desperate for some shut-eye. I prayed we could trust this man, that we hadn’t been led into a trap.
And that we wouldn’t get him killed.
“You can trust him,” FNG said as he led us around the house. “He’s a good man.”
“Even good men can be turned,” I muttered.
“Not Giorgi. He nearly had his home taken away from him. He wouldn’t turn in his friends after they fought back against the government during the Rose Revolution. They threw Giorgi in prison for three years, but he didn’t falter.”
“And that’s what you want for your friend?”
“Of course not,” he said, turning to face me.
“And I would never bring you here if I thought we were still being tracked. My point is that you can trust him. No one knows I worked here. I worked under a different name, and when I was traveling, it wasn’t under a US passport.
Any documentation they have of me is from a fake name, and frankly, the picture didn’t even match. ”
“But you can’t be sure they haven’t been tracking your movements,” I argued.
“I never showed my identification here. I just showed up one day and asked for a job. Giorgi didn’t even pay me. I just wanted a place to stay for a while.”
“And he let you?” I asked skeptically.
“He did. He treated me like family, and when it was my time to leave, we parted as friends. Again, no one ever knew I was here.”
I wasn’t entirely sure I trusted him, but what choice did I have? I was dead on my feet and needed to recharge and come up with a new plan. Hopefully, one that didn’t include fake boobs.
“Fine.”
“We’re staying over here,” he nodded up ahead at an old building. “It’s not much, but it’ll shelter us for the night.”
“Great,” Thumper muttered. “Just like being back in the military. Sleeping on the ground in foreign places.”
“You know you miss it,” I laughed.
“I miss my bed. Fuck, I never should have volunteered for this.”
“I bet a pregnant Bree is looking pretty damn good by comparison.”
“You have no idea.”
We walked into the building and took in the few cots against the far wall. It wasn’t much, just as FNG had said, but it would get us through the night. My muscles ached as I slid onto the bed, letting out a bone-weary sigh. It felt like forever since I had last taken a day to just relax.
“I’ve got watch,” FNG said, tossing a bag at Thumper. “Those should fit you.”
He caught them, digging through them immediately. “Oh, sweet Jesus. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see pants and a t-shirt. This is like fucking Christmas.”
I chuckled, letting my eyes droop closed.
“Wake me in three hours.”
“Sure, boss,” FNG said as I drifted off to sleep.