[22.] CHECK

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Vanessa's POV:

I always feel bad, waking up in the car, listening to Michael and Linc sorting the agenda for the day. I feel like that I'm barely contributing to the scheme. So I feel bad knowing that Michael has spent so long planning this whole breakout for his brother and I happened to get stuck in the middle of it. A bump in the road. It was nice of Michael and Lincoln to take me into care after the breakout since I have no idea how to 'be on the run'. I want to do something important to contribute to the grand plan.  So, I can't help but feel guilty when I once again, wake up in the back seats, listening to Michael and Lincoln arguing about directions to Tooele, Utah.

"-No. We're on highway 150 Linc. I'm going the right way." Michael argues. "We're 75 miles East of Salt Lake City, which means it will be another 35 from Tooele." Lincoln looks at him and then back at the map in his hand, turning it in different directions to see where Michael is getting this from.

"Wait... no?" Michael glanced at Lincoln for a quick second. They still haven't noticed that I'm awake. "ohhhhh... okay, so how long 'till we get there?"

"Approximately, 1 hour and 30 minutes," I interrupt. I mentally check the a box in my head. There's one contribution for the day, check. I catch Michael's eyes in the rear view mirror as he smiles at me, I smile back in reflex while my stomach does somersaults. 

"Ah, Rip Van Winkle is up!" Lincoln chuckles as he turns around to me. I feel guilt eating away at my insides as he refers me to the sleepy man. It must have been obvious that I didn't like the nickname Linc gave me as Michael began to speak when he caught my reaction in the mirror.

"Hey, knock it off, don't call her-" Linc quickly hushed Michael and turned up the volume on the radio and we all fell silent in the car.

"This morning, authorities in Illinois issues an update on the escaped convicts known until now as the Fox River Seven," The News Reporter announced.  "Chicago mob boss John Abruzzi was gunned down outside a Washington D.C. motel last night after investigators received a tip from an informant. The other six are still at large and considered dangerous. A Florida man wanted in..." I reached out between the two front seats and turned off the radio.

"I didn't think Abbruzzi'd be the first to eat it," Linc sighs, rubbing his hand on his forehead.

Michael nodded his head. I turned to look out the window watching the fields slowly turn into a small town suburb. "I have a feeling we're in for a lot of surprises." I sighed.

"They said six are still out there... so much for faking our deaths." Lincoln grunted, giving Michael a look.

"I bought us some time, that's what counts," Michael snapped back at him as he gripped the steering wheel. It went quiet in the car for a while.

It was a while before Lincoln spoke up, breaking the silence; "How much further?"

"You asked this not even ten minutes ago", I Replied.

"Look, all you need to know is that it won't be much longer, which means we should be hitting the Double K Ranch by this afternoon," Michael sighed, sinking back into his chair, relaxing a bit.

Lincoln shook his head before speaking up hesitantly; "Or we can keep driving, pick up LJ and hit Panama."

Michaels head spins fast to face Lincoln as he starts speaking in a more serious and slightly more aggressive tone, "WE can't hit Panama. We can't hit anything, we can't do anything without the money we need to find Charles's stash."

I think back to when Westmoreland told me about his stash in Utah, "I know some other guys who are thinking the same thing".

"The money is buried under a silo at the Double K Ranch just outside of Tooele, Utah. There's 5 million dollars there." Westmoreland's words float around my head for the next hour until we reach the outskirts of Tooele.

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