09-30-2020, 02:22 AM
The highway sped by with a rhythm that reminded Jensen of the Texan great freeways. Squinting, purposefully blurring his sight, the city might pass for Dallas but for the lie revealed in his heart. Dallas was no longer his home. The connection that tethered him was severed. Not even the hope of redemption embodied by the innocence of his children could restore what was broken. The boys were better off believing their father ascended to heaven rather than witness what Jensen would become under their mother’s yoke.
The song playing on the car speakers shifted to something he didn’t recognize. Jensen’s sigh solicited a quick check over the shoulder from the man in the passenger seat up front. The man was older than himself, but strong enough that his muscular frame fit snug within his suit. Sunglasses covered his eyes, but Jensen knew the expression was tight behind them. Any smiles were buried deep, and Jensen was too half-hearted to try to find it.
Beyond the agent that came to collect him from the airport, a map was displayed on the front window screen. The driver swiped through route options, presumably while the auto-pilot navigated the busy highway lanes. From the options, Jensen knew they were more than an hour from the Kremlin. He dismissed the penetrating gaze of the agent, who turned around after confirming their passenger was playing nice. Suddenly jealous of the sunglasses, he lay his forehead on his arm instead. The poor sleep from travel was catching up. Well, he would have an eternity to rest after reaching the Kremlin. Knowing the strict rules that boxed him in before departing to the United States, the Ascendancy was unlikely to declare his freedom anytime soon. He could remain an honored guest at the Kremlin for twenty years just in case someone important needed saved at a moment’s notice. Was that so bad? Or was it a waste of a life?
The song playing on the car speakers shifted to something he didn’t recognize. Jensen’s sigh solicited a quick check over the shoulder from the man in the passenger seat up front. The man was older than himself, but strong enough that his muscular frame fit snug within his suit. Sunglasses covered his eyes, but Jensen knew the expression was tight behind them. Any smiles were buried deep, and Jensen was too half-hearted to try to find it.
Beyond the agent that came to collect him from the airport, a map was displayed on the front window screen. The driver swiped through route options, presumably while the auto-pilot navigated the busy highway lanes. From the options, Jensen knew they were more than an hour from the Kremlin. He dismissed the penetrating gaze of the agent, who turned around after confirming their passenger was playing nice. Suddenly jealous of the sunglasses, he lay his forehead on his arm instead. The poor sleep from travel was catching up. Well, he would have an eternity to rest after reaching the Kremlin. Knowing the strict rules that boxed him in before departing to the United States, the Ascendancy was unlikely to declare his freedom anytime soon. He could remain an honored guest at the Kremlin for twenty years just in case someone important needed saved at a moment’s notice. Was that so bad? Or was it a waste of a life?