My Consigliere, I Will Not Stand Behind You Anymore
Rough, scorching.
"Get in, I'll give you a ride back."
It was a modified Ford Raptor, its chassis ridiculously high, the whole vehicle a matte black, looking like an armored beast straight off a battlefield.
The engine roared as we sped down Route 66.
The wind was strong, carrying red dust.
Jasper steered with one hand, the other holding a half-smoked cigar, casually resting on the open window.
"See that dry river valley over there?"
He pointed with his cigar to the red rock walls outside the window.