Freeze (The Jewel Project #4)

7.2|| Rusty Keys

"Okay, decent enough to work," Mizrelle said, her tone laced with disapproval.

Sam's bubble burst. "Decent enough? I'd like to see you do better!" Before he could continue pointing out that they were by no means mediocre and hadn't missed one single bottle, Tom covered his mouth with his hand.

"Groovy. Now what's next?" he asked, pretending that Sam wasn't struggling to free himself from his grip and continue shouting at Mizrelle.

Mizrelle narrowed her eyes some more at them, zeroing in on Sam who immediately regretted his outburst. He was just too used to being a smarty pants in school and challenging anyone who claimed otherwise. Why was he so keen on proving he was a total school boy?

"We'll have you do cooperation next. Leave the good stuff for last," she finally said with poisonous sweetness. "Don't you agree, darling?" She batted her heavy eyelashes at Tom in a way that made Sam's stomach turn.

"You're the boss," Tom said with a grin.

To Sam's horror, Tom let him go and stepped away, leaving him alone in the middle of the circle of strange people. Mizrelle approached, but she was the last person he wanted to cooperate with at the moment. The closer she came, the more he had to fight the impulse to step back. When she reached her hand out, his fingers itched to grab the gun and point it at her, but he was smart enough to know that would probably get him shot.

But she held no gun. Instead, it was a map, and Sam's mood lifted a little before plummeting again. Sure, he was good with maps, but he also hadn't slept and eaten in over twenty four hours, and his head felt like it was filled with wet cotton.

"Sit down," Mizrelle instructed.

Sam looked from left to right for something to sit on, but concluded she meant the floor. With a shrug, he sat down cross legged, aware his only pair of jeans was already filthy. Mizrelle crouched in front of him and lay out the map.

"We're here," she stated, pointing to a random spot in the middle of the map. "He's here." She pointed to another spot, close to the right corner. "Get him back to base safely."

"Give me a flashlight and a pencil and I will," Sam mumbled, squinting at the map.

The crowd snickered, as if his affirmation had been highly amusing, but he ignored them, focusing on the maze of streets before him. It was probably Paris and he didn't know the city, but he did know how to read a damn map. And he also knew basic geometry which made things a lot easier.

The requested materials arrived, and Mizrelle was actually kind enough to hold the light for him. With a much better view of the streets, Sam started marking them down, forming an intricate web of triangles from crossroads to crossroads.

"What are you doing?" Mizrelle asked.

"Bringing your guy home," he answered, uniting another three lines. "Is he driving or on foot?"

"What difference does it make?" she asked, sounding honestly surprised.

Even so, Sam couldn't help but be a prick. "See these little arrows?" He pointed to a narrow street on the map. "These indicate a thing called a one-way street. So I need to know how to treat these."

"Wow, I guess you're a smartass, too," Mizrelle deadpanned. "Let's say he's walking."

Sam decided not to push his luck so he just nodded and continued drawing triangles. He didn't really need them, but it made calculating the distance afterwards a lot easier. Finally, he finished drawing the lines he needed and, using the scale at the base of the map, started calculating the exact distance. It took him merely ten minutes to compare all possible routes and settle on the best one.