Chapter 6: Chatty

Casey admired Agent Jones' aggressive driving skills. She swerved and honked, wagged her fists, and took every known shortcut she could think of. They were headed to the Mojave Desert, a nearly two-hour drive from the Buy More ruins. When the traffic finally dispersed, Casey suddenly realized he didn't know where in the desert.

"Hey Jones, mind if I ask where I'm being hijacked?"

"Edwards Air Force Base…well, not quite on the base, but close enough not send up those icky red flags, we all get along." She said coolly.

"I've worked with some of those guys."

Casey forced his gaze on the long stretch of highway and folded his arms. His eyes begged for sleep, but he refused to doze off. He couldn't fully trust her, not yet. She looked his way and grinned from the acidic rumblings his stomach made.

"Hey, you must be hungry. I have some handy-snacks in that blue bag on the back seat. Ya know, cheese and crackers with the little red stick? Tuna in a bag...a roll of that hard salami and cheddar. Help yourself."

Casey didn't refuse food and rummaged through it. He noticed a cooler lying on the floor and flipped it open.

"Golly gee, Miss Jones, do I get a juicy-juice with that too?"

Rhea tilted her head, suppressing laughter. "Nooo, too concentrated, burns my stomach, but there's orange Hi-C's!"

"Oh yeah, now that's much better. You packed all the essentials."

Casey grabbed two juices and commenced eating a little of everything. He was hungrier than he thought. He observed Rhea from the corner of his eye; she tapped a beat on the steering wheel and hummed a Beatles song. He could tell she struggled to keep from making small talk. After a few minutes of tense silence, she became chatty.

"So Major, who else was lost in the bombing besides Chuck Bartowski and your partner…Sally?"

"Sarah…Sarah Walker."

"Right, but that wasn't her real name anyway."

Casey wondered how much she knew about Chuck and the Intersect, but played it cool. He still didn't know if any of this was Beckman's doing. He would grill all of them when he got to their Headquarters. He wiped his mouth and slurped down the juices in seconds.

"I have bottled water in there too…you never know if you'll get trapped in the desert or something." She said.

His throat felt parched. Casey pulled a water out and guzzled it. Rhea glanced at him in awe while his Adam's apple bobbed up and down and he let out a breath of relief. With his thirst quenched, he dribbled the remainder of the water over his head and neck.

"What makes you think that I lost others besides Chuck and the rest of the employees, Jones?"

Rhea stared at him sympathetically. "You have the appearance of a man whose spirit was torn asunder. It wasn't just the mission that failed. Please believe me, I do understand." She offered quietly.

Casey ducked his head down and pushed his chair as far back it could go for more leg room.

"With all due respect, Agent Jones, I don't want to talk about it. All I want to do is focus on finding this scumbag terrorist and toss him off a building…after I break every bone in his body." He grumbled.

"Fair enough…we'll drop the personal stuff for now. So…what makes you think the bomber's a he?"

Casey let out an exaggerated groan. "Oh great, I'm dealing with a feminist."

Rhea laughed. "Major, just because I assume otherwise doesn't make me a feminist. I just know the types you've dealt with."

"Yeah, the sexy, malicious types, rrrowww!"

"Ha! The female criminals I've dealt with were anything but…I did a stint at a woman's prison when I was still new, and then painfully figured out I'd rather be a data cruncher."

Casey actually laughed at her. "Sure, Jones. You just didn't want to tackle five hundred pound hooches in cell block four named Debbie, with bloody, dripping, 'I heart Johnny' tattoos."

Rhea slapped the steering wheel playfully. "You are so perceptive! All kidding aside, Major, your input will be highly valuable. You'll be working with me and three specialized trackers. We want to find the perpetrator just as badly as you do."

Casey grew sullen. "I don't know about that…"

Rhea tried to draw him out a little more. "So…are you from California?"

"No."

"Okay…well, I'm from New York."

"Figures, you've got lip, you're nosy, and you got that New Yawk squawk. I did a sting in Brooklyn once, back in '89."

"Awesome. Born and raised in Bensonhurst, Major." Rhea snorted more laughter. Casey actually liked her laugh. It was loud, cheerful, and genuine. She wasn't afraid to let loose all the crazy sounds that flew out of a person's mouth when they really cracked up.

"I'm pretty sure we hit that neighborhood."

"I've heard about your exploits, Major. You brought down the entire Falconetti-Dragonetti mob family! That was something New York's Finest couldn't do for years! How did you like Brooklyn, anyway?"

"I didn't see the best parts of it, well...the waterfront was interesting...and the pizza and bagels rock."

"Yep, it's all in the East Coast tap water, I tell ya."

Casey drew a deep breath and folded his hands behind his head, feeling more secure. He had nothing to fear from this woman. Her defensive skills were lacking, and he could easily take her down if needed.

"Look Jones, enough chit-chat, I'm gonna try and get some sleep. Wake me up when we pull in."

Rhea quickly put her gaze on the road as he shifted his large, muscular body into a comfortable position. Why did men always look so sexy, yet innocent as babies when they closed their eyes?

"Sure thing…Casey." She murmured.

Rhea felt the anguish radiating from him as if it were her own, but she respected his silence. Grief came in many forms and he wasn't the 'bare your soul' type by any means. She wasn't looking to crack his veneer, but a little prick into his psyche wouldn't hurt. Just having a listening ear helped her to get over her own deep pain. When Major Casey was ready, he would open up, and she would be ready to comfort.