As it turned out, only about a third of the Shelby "stables" were used to actually house any animals, and the rest were furnished as stables on the outside but were hiding contraband of all description in boxes under the hay in the stalls. The drive out to the country would have been exceptionally pleasant on a day where Tessa wasn't constantly preoccupied with thinking about how she could be dead this time tomorrow. Tommy was, as usual, completely and irritatingly at ease, or at least, impeccably composed, and she let him drive her car on account of him being the one who had paid for it, and because her hands were shaking. The sun was in rare form, beaming down on the country roads, and the smell of the grass and the barely was a relief after days of nothing but soot and ash. She watched it stream through the leaves of the trees as Tommy sped along at a completely unreasonable pace, but she supposed that if she knew she had absolutely nothing to fear from the coppers, she would behave the same way. Her breaths kept coming in stupid little gasps and she was grateful for the rumble of the engine to drown them out. At least she would get to see Chase one last time, if anything happened to her. If anything happened. Something was probably going to happen. Had they hurt her father? Would the plan work? Her heart was pounding so quickly she could feel it in her stomach, and it was making her regret even the sad breakfast of tea and toast that she had forced down that morning. Tommy wasn't looking at her, eyes straight ahead, expertly maneuvering the car but looking distant, like his head was elsewhere. She was fine with this. He was the last person on earth she would want to discuss her cowardice with. She wondered if he was ever afraid. If so, she had only seen it in the briefest of moments, when she surprised him and he pulled the gun on her, the look in his eyes after the German in the car had nearly blown his head off. How did he keep all that buried under the floorboards of his mind? How much control did that take, and how much of a toll?

After a little over an hour of driving, they pulled down a dirt lane, sending dust billowing after the wheels of the car. Tommy had told Charlie, and, by extension, Curly, where he was going, but no other members of the family. The plan had been as established as it was likely to get, and any more deliberation at this point would only lead to unnecessary complications. He went through the potential outcomes in his mind, the percentages, the likelihoods. It was a mental game he played, betting on the odds of his own survival. Somehow quantifying such things made them approachable, kept him sane. He was relatively less confident about them than he would have liked. It was about seventy-thirty that Tessa would be taken to where they were keeping her father, and that was the big gamble. He assumed they would keep her alive, as it was necessary for her to be used as leverage. He assumed that Solomons would hold up his end of the bargain, due to his own personal proclivity against the Germans. He assumed the Blinders' diversion would suffice to distract the German guards and heighten the possibility of gaining access to the building, or wherever Reilly was being held. He was doing a lot of assuming. Tessa was silent next to him, back tense like a steel rod. He screeched to a stop in front of the largest stable, the one that was actually equipped to support equines and not just hold stolen goods. He climbed down out of the car and gestured for Tessa to remain, as a man holding a rifle approached them from inside the doors.

"Who's this here, this is private property, this is- oh. Hello, Mr. Shelby," He said, his voice and demeanor changing dramatically. "We weren't told you would be visiting today."
"That's because I didn't tell you," Tommy said, pulling out a cigarette. He waved at Tessa from her position in the car. "Put the gun away, there's a lady present."

The man gave him a sloppy military salute that proved he had never actually served, and Tommy wanted to roll his eyes. Where was Charlie finding these green fucks?

"How many men do we have here?" Tommy asked, eyeing the stables.

"Five patrolling at any time, sir." The man told him.

"Good. Send them all home. But bring the Arabian out first."
"The big red, sir?"

"Yeah," He sucked in the smoke. "The big red."

"He yours, sir? New racer? He's got a bitch of a kick, that one. Wouldn't let any of us near him, 'cept that silly man who brought him in."

Tommy nodded. "I was warned about that."

Tessa moved past him. He had heard her approach, her boots crunching on the gravel behind him, and would have known anyway, because the man's expression changed from one of resentful respect to appreciative respect the moment he saw her.

"I'll get him," she said, tossing her hair behind her shoulders. The man was ogling the pale slope of her chest, and Tommy wanted to put his cigarette out on his eye. "Where is he?"

"Er," the man said, glancing between Tessa and Tommy for instruction. Tommy looked at him, giving nothing away, letting him flounder. "No offense, miss, but perhaps it would be better if a couple of our boys went to collect him, slip of a thing like you, wouldn't want to ruin that face, isn't that right, Mr. Shelby?"

Tommy smacked his lips and waited. Tessa cocked her head like it was a gun. "If you don't tell me, I'll just go find him by myself."

"I- sixth stall, but-,"

"Thank you," Tessa said, curtley, like she wasn't thankful at all. Tommy smirked and gestured to her, by all means, with his lit cigarette. She strode off, and her small waist was cinched in Polly's tight dress, and the other man, whatever his fucking name was, was craning his neck to look at her so tightly that Tommy was surprised it hadn't snapped. He cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows.

"She yours, sir?"

On another day, Tommy might have taught the man a lesson for asking such a question. But today he had more important things on his mind. Like rescuing a political hostage. Taking down a German gang. He inhaled his cigarette.
"She only belongs to the horse."

Tessa came out of the stable, Sun Chaser pacing contentedly beside her. Her hair tangled with his mane and the same fire shone in their eyes. Same hair. Same temper, she had said. Leonard had been right. The nameless man beside him whistled.

"Well, I'll be damned. Seems like all any of us need is a woman's touch, after all."

"Maybe. Or maybe she's just better with horses," Tommy said, letting himself revel a bit in the satisfaction that came with the tense working of the man's jaw. He made a mental reminder to find out his name, and to tell Charlie to fire him. He threw his cigarette on the ground. "You and the other boys take the rest of the day off. Be back tomorrow."

Tessa gave Chase a command, and he bent his long legs and settled onto the ground with a huff. Tommy was absolutely certain she could have just hopped onto his back, but she was still irritated at the man's dismissal of her capability. She gave another word after sliding into position and Chase stood without hesitation, Tessa rocking slightly on his back, putting his ears against his head when the wind brought the strange man's scent into his nostrils.

"But sir, the cargo, there won't be anyone here to protect it in case of a-," The man started, and Tommy was beginning to lose his patience.

"I said go," Tommy told him, and Chase pawed the earth and skittered a bit underneath Tessa, stirring up dirt with his hooves. The man gave the horse one last, apprehensive glance, and touched his hat to Tommy.

"Sir," he said, and then walked briskly back towards the whitewashed stable.

Tessa grinned down at Tommy from atop her horse.

"Want to go for a ride?"