Amber stops the car for the fourth time, huffing loudly as she exits it yet again. She lifts up the hood and erupts into a coughing fit as the smoke hits her face. She fans away the smoke while Mary stands off to the side with a smirk.
"Out of your element there, princess?"
"Don't start with me, Mary!" Amber warns. "I know how to fix cars-"
"Clearly," Mary states sarcastically.
"Hey! My dad was a mechanic...At least that's what he told me. But he knew a lot of shit about cars...and bikes for that matter."
She leans down into the hood, searching for the source of the problem.
"Is he the reason why you like motorcycles so much?"
"Yup."
Mary leans next to her, glancing under the hood.
"Why haven't I met him? My grandfather." Somehow, Amber knew she was going to start this. She always asks about him and it always ends with Amber getting pissed off. When is that kid going to learn...
"Because he's a world class douche-knozzle! He left me and my mother constantly and when she died, I thought it would be different, but no! Of course not! While I was at home grieving, he was probably out having a great fucking time with lots of alcohol and free pussy!"
Mary looks at her with saddened eyes. "Mom, I-"
"No, don't feel sorry for me. I'm fine."
"That rant pretty much proved that you're not fine,"
Amber ignores her and continues inspecting under the hood. She's had it rough. They both have. But Amber's trying to make shit right. For Mary's sake. She owes her that much.
"Ah, shit!" Amber shouts, kicking the car. "The air filters are clogged!"
"Can you un-clog them?"
"Would I be this pissed off if I could?" she snaps back. "We have to walk."
The silence in the car is almost as uncomfortable as the heat. The leather seats sticking to any portion of skin that dare touch it. A hot breeze blows through the car, offering little relief. The sweltering weather drains any energy they have left and it begins to seem like Amber isn't going to show up.
Lincoln leans up and rests on the steering wheel, his back drenched in sweat. His throat feels like it's on fire and he's sure that Michael feels the same. He didn't give a shit about T-Bag, who is currently wiping his sweat-covered forehead on his dirty shirt.
He shifts forward from the backseat and pokes his head between Lincoln and Michael.
"So, how long are we waitin' for our sugarplum?"
Lincoln opens his mouth to say something but Michael waves him off.
"However long it takes," Michael rasps and clears his throat.
"Well, our boy Tweener is cooking up there in that trunk."
Lincoln smirks. "Oh, how sweet. You care for the kid."
T-Bag glares at him. "I care about the potential shit storm this could stir up if that boy dies in that trunk," he says.
"He'll be fine. Shouldn't Amber be here by now?" Michael's worry clearly evident.
"You think she got caught?" Lincoln asks, feeling his panic rise.
Michael wants to lie to him. He really does. He wants to be able to pat him on the shoulder and tell him that her and Mary are okay. But he can't know for sure. He wishes he could.
He shakes his head. "I don't know, Linc." he whispers.
"That car she grabbed was shit. She must have broke down." Lincoln reasons.
"And if she didn't?" T-Bag questions, putting a finger to his lips. "We can't wait much longer."
Silence settles over the car again and Lincoln stares down the road, waiting for the car to come barrelling over the hill.
"I hate to say it, but he's right," Michael admits.
"I know...I know."
Michael offers him a look of understanding and a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
"Let's get this shit started."
Amber and Mary trudge along the side of the road hand-in-hand, the sun burning at their backs. They covered a decent amount of road in a short amount of time but the heat is starting to get to Mary. She's sluggish and every so often, Amber has to give her a little tug to keep her moving.
"It's okay, baby. We'll be there soon." Amber promises.
"We don't even know where there is. And that motorcycle didn't even stop for us!"
"That's because it's a motorcycle. Can only fit two people."
"I'm small enough. You on the other hand..." Mary teases.
Amber makes a hurt face and puts a hand to her chest. "Oh, how you wound me!"
"Yea, well-Hey! The motorcycle stopped for that guy!" Mary shouts, pointing ahead.
"Holy shit..." Amber whispers, "Come on!" she tugs Mary's arm as she breaks out into a run.
"Sucre!" She screeches, attracting his attention.
He hops off of his bike with a smile, scooping her up into a hug and swinging her around.
"Hey, Mami!" he exclaims, setting her down.
"Mami?" she questions. Sucre just shook his head and that's when she notices C-note behind him.
"Benjamin." she says softly, pulling him into a hug.
"It's good to see you're still alive." he mutters into her shoulder.
"Who's the chica?"
Amber pulls away and looks to Mary who is shifting her feet awkwardly. She walks over and puts her arm around her.
"This is...my uh..my daughter," she says hesitantly.
"You said you didn't have family," C-note states.
"I lied. I didn't think it would have been a good time to bring it up. Being on the run and all."
"Where's her dad?"
Amber goes pale and she swallows hard.
"Looking for Westmorland's stash," she rasps.
"Lincoln?" Sucre marvels.
She nods and he opens his mouth, only to be shot down by Amber.
"Not now."
Sucre nods and offers Mary a smile. "I'm Sucre."
"Mary," she says nervously. "Benjamin."
"Alright, now that the introductions are out of the way," Amber chimes in, "we can talk about why we're all here."
Their smiles fade and the tension rises.
"I know you guys heard about the money. But there's no reason why we can't split it. We all dig and we all get a cut. That's fair, isn't it?"
Sucre and C-note share a look before nodding.
"Good. Now you two should try and find Michael and Linc."
"Woah, wait. What about you two?" Sucre questions.
"We can walk."
"Mom!" Mary whines, "It's hot."
"She can ride there with me." Sucre suggests.
Amber looks between them both and nods. She helps Mary on to the bike, then firmly grabs Sucre's arm.
"Be careful and keep her safe."
Sucre gives her a lopsided smile and kisses her cheek, "You got it, Mami."
With that, he revs up the engine and continues on down the road.
"You ready?"
She glances at C-note and starts walking beside him.
"How old is she?"
She huffs, "Twelve."
He grunts in response and she can tell he's smiling.
"It's great, right? Being a parent."
She scoffs and rubs her head.
"It's like a roller coaster ride. Sometimes it's fun and you never want it to end and then other times, it leaves you scared, disoriented and nauseous. But eventually, you get used to it. The bad shit fades and you're left with the fun parts."
It's a weird analogy but C-note seems to understand what she's saying.
"But the bad shit hasn't faded yet," she mutters.
He can see the hurt on her face and drapes an arm over her shoulder. She would have pulled away because of the heat but she feels better with his arm there.
"I never told Linc about her," she blurts out. "I just recently did, actually."
"Why?"
She shrugs, "I'm an idiot and I was scared. I figured he wouldn't want her."
"And now?" he questions.
"And now...I realize it would have been better if I didn't keep it from him."
He pulls her closer and smiles, "Can't do shit about it now."
She laughs and puts her arm around his waist.
"Ain't that the truth."
"I don't need help!" Kellerman snarls, shoving Frank aside.
"Oh, really? It's been how long and you still don't have Tancredi?" Frank retorts.
That stops Kellerman in his tracks.
"You still don't have Bliss."
Frank throws his head back in annoyance. "No shit! That's why we're talking!"
"You need my help with Tancredi, and I need your help with Bliss. Bill wants them alive for info. I was thinking we should question them together and hurt the other if they don't want to play along."
Frank knows what he's doing and Kellerman could tell. But his reputation is a dark one. Frank is known for his number of confirmed kills. They don't send a guy like that to gather information. Unless that guy is on thin ice with the Company.
Kellerman looks at him skeptically before nodding his head towards the car.
"Get in."