CH-26: An Old Man's Worry

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The ride to the airport was engulfed in an uncomfortable silence. The only sound that pierced the stillness was the hushed breaths of Francesca. Frankly, I was relieved by the absence of conversation.

The conversation we had prior to that wasn't really my cup of tea. I'm not great at dealing with emotional discussions.

Once we reached the airport, we proceeded to board Fox's private jet. Yes, he actually owns one.

It wasn't until the plane started taxiing down the runway that Fox finally decided to shatter the tension hanging in the air.

"What happened to your father?" Fox asked, popping a bottle of champagne from the plane's onboard rack.

"He.. He's been missing." She said, sounding somewhat uncomfortable. Fox paused, refraining from taking a sip as he narrowed his eyes, assessing the truth in her words.

"Since when?" Fox leaned forward, his shoulders tense.

"Four months ago." She replied, shaking her head and gazing out the airplane window. "He said it was a business trip in Europe, that he would be back in a few days. But I never heard from him after that. It's like he vanished off the radar without a trace."

"And your mom?" Fox sighed, leaning back.

"Mom was a wreck for the first few weeks, but then she had to step up, quit her job, and take care of the company. She sent me to a boarding school, but I couldn't just sit still, knowing he was out there somewhere."

She sniffed, fighting back tears.

"I know he used to work with you. Dad used to talk about your days together in Europe. Do you know any places or safehouses—"

"No." Fox cut her off bluntly.

"Come on! You guys worked together for years! There has to be something you know!" She yelled, tears now streaming down her cheeks.

"I did know one thing, kid." Fox sighed again, taking a sip of the champagne. "Your father loved your mother, and the moment he decided to propose to her, he left the world of crime behind. There's no reason for him to come back, especially now that he has you."

"But what if he didn't have a choice?" I interjected, capturing their attention. They both turned towards me.

"What?" Fox asked, giving me a curious glare.

"I mean, what if he had no choice." I said, moving forward and sitting comfortably as I explained. Pointing at Fox, I continued, "You said we need to trample over every enemy in this line of work. But what if her dad missed one? If someone has material against him or knows his identity, they could use it to blackmail him into doing their bidding. He'd have to comply to protect his family's safety."

There was a moment of silence. Francesca looked at me with surprise for the intellectual guess I made, while Fox seemed intrigued.

"Who is he?" She asked again, this time in a different context.

"It's not impossible." Fox sighed, ignoring her question. "I'll spread the word in the Guild."

He stood up, cupping his champagne glass in his hand as he walked towards her. He patted her shoulder, giving her a nod of acknowledgment.

"Don't worry, kid. Your dad is a tough nut to crack. I'm sure wherever he is, he's alright." Fox assured her. She nodded in response, and he nodded back before taking a deep breath and moving to the next compartment, leaving me alone with her.

She sighed and turned back to gaze out the window, while I picked up a random magazine from the shelf and began to read through it.

The plane was filled with silence, interrupted only by the occasional sound of page-flipping. I noticed her glancing at me from time to time, but neither of us spoke, so I didn't bother initiating a conversation.

"So..." She started, breaking the silence first. I looked up from the book, waiting for her question. "Are you his son?"

I blinked, shaking my head as I set the book down.

"No, I'm more like his protege."

"Protege?" She asked, looking incredulous.

"Yep."

"How old are you?" She inquired, her tone carrying a hint of curiosity.

I squinted my eyes, feeling suspicious of her, and questioned her in return.

"How old are you?"

"Excuse me, don't you know it's rude to ask a woman her age." She replied, seeming taken aback. I couldn't help but scoff at her feeble attempt to make me look bad.

"Well, I can't exactly carbon date you, and you're not a woman, you're a girl. So I don't see the problem." I raised an eyebrow, giving her the go-ahead.

She huffed in pride, then shook her head, revealing her age.

"I'm 13." She muttered, acknowledging defeat.

"11." I replied.

She didn't ask any further questions after that, and we settled back into silence. But after half an hour passed with no sign of Fox returning, I slowly stood up from my seat and moved to the next compartment, with Francesca's curious eyes following me until I left the passenger compartment.

I found Fox sitting alone at the built-in bar on the backside of the jet. He was pouring himself a drink, his gaze fixed on the liquid as he stared into it before taking a gulp. His ears perked up as he noticed my arrival.

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

"The real question is, what are you doing?" I turned it around and asked Fox.

"I'm having a drink." He gestured to the bottle.

"I can see that." I rolled my eyes. Then, locking my gaze with his, I spoke in a serious tone. "But I get the feeling you're mourning?"

Fox looked like a deer caught in headlights as he stared at me. He dropped his gesture and leaned back against the table, his old bones creaking.

"You know, kiddo, you have maturity beyond your years, and sometimes it scares me." Fox chuckled. He patted the stool next to him and gestured for me to take a seat.

"Her father and I used to be the best of buds. I spent my younger years with him. I can't believe I'm saying this, but he was a better thief than me. He could have been the greatest thief to ever live, but then he decided to quit, and we fell out hard." He said, shaking his head with a nostalgic smile. I climbed onto the seat, listening to his banter.

"The enemies we made during those times aren't simple folks. Maybe it's my age or some other factor, but I'm mildly worried that I might lose another member of my family."

"Then maybe you should help her find him." I advised, looking up at him. "Or at least help her stand on her own."

"Probably." He nodded, standing up. He adjusted his suit and waited as I stood up myself.

"Thank you, Eddy." He smiled as I walked past him.

"No need to thank me. I didn't do it for you or her." I smiled back. "I can't spend my Halloween night with an old man in depression, so technically, I saved myself from misery."

"Huh." He scoffed, raising his eyebrows in amazement.

"Old? Please, I prefer the term 'experienced.'"

"You're literally one step away from a tombstone and grave." I muttered without looking back.

"Le Gasp!" Fox gasped mockingly.

I turned around, eyes wide and lips curled up. We stared at each other before breaking into a fit of laughter as we made our way to the cabin.

As we disembarked from the jet, our eyes were fixed on the sun rising over the Eiffel Tower, marking the beginning of a new day.

"That's a damn view."