Damien listened with patient intensity, as if he hung on every word the woman said. Inside, he felt a spike of amusement at her audacity and blatant distain for the danger she was in. She must have been confident in the value of her information or else a very good spy. Or she was unhinged by whatever events that had preceded this meeting.
Whatever the answer may be, Damien was curious to find out. She was correct in saying he could take care of himself. He did so extremely well. However, he did not lower his guard. The memory of Spectra’s invisible grasp around his heart came to mind along with his days in San Quentin. How often had he heard a similar disarming line? Almost always the one that spoke attempted something as idiotic as it was futile, but they always attempted, and Damien did not have time to deal with petty assassins.
Suspicious as he may have been, he did not turn the woman away as promised. With a gesture the guards opened the gates and allow Camilla to pass. They did not seem impressed. Judging from the woman’s hard features, she had given them a hard time.
Before he addressed the more immediate matter, he confirmed one of her idle rumours.
“I watched as the light of life left Guitterez’s eyes,”
he said with a flash of heat.
“He died sobbing. The tears failed to repay the horrors he had ordered. I ended his sorry life myself, so shall the others fall by my hand. This, I promise.”
It was unnecessary and avoided the question left unanswered. Damien schooled himself to equanimity. His irritation over the senseless deaths stung more than he had expected. They were far too undisciplined; a fault he would remedy sooner rather than later.
But for now, Camilla. Full of the Light, he threaded a pattern that contained sound within a perimeter. Menial as it seemed, in San Quentin it had proven to be one of the most useful.
“Our conversation is private.”
He waved a hand towards the guard who kept an angry eye on the woman.
“No-one but the two of us will hear. If you are sceptical, I encourage you to test my word. When you are satisfied, I will hear all you have to say.”
His reason for this particular approach was twofold. First, his abilities must be made common knowledge, not merely rumour. Secondly, he must be seen talking to the people freely. His status as a foreigner delayed their victory. If he were to succeed, the trust of the people would be paramount.
Edited by
Damien, Jul 8 2014, 02:40 PM.
Having been allowed through the gate, Camila expected to be directed somewhere else. Instead, he simply told her they had the necessary privacy and that was that. For a moment, she eyed him skeptically. There was, of course, no way for her to see what he had done but she suspected he had something under his sleeve. After all, the man had lifted one pobre diablo up in the sky for all to see at the Zocalo. If she had not seen that, then she would have thought him crazy and not wasted her time in the slightest.
She crossed her arms in front of her while looking over at the others around them. If they were with him, she supposed he trusted them to hear. The idea of testing his claims crossed her mind, but shouting like an idiot wasn’t her idea of fun, nor did she have the time. “I’ll take your word for it. It’s a pity I wasn’t there to see Guitterez in the end, though I’m not too surprised he was a coward about it.”
Once their hides were on the line, men had a tendency to cry in the end; Camila, however, had already done away with most of her tears.
“I’ll tell you what I know under one condition, I want to be a part of this. I want to see each and every one of these perros go down.”
She remained quiet, letting her request sink in. Here was a man with abilities she’d never even dreamed of before, and she was making demands of him. Something told Camila that she had to be a little deranged. Then again, she had some tricks of her own. Of course, she couldn’t make men fly up in the air and threaten them with fire, but she had her uses. Whether or not she eventually shared that particular detail with this man depended on his answer and how things developed from then on.
Damien loomed in silent thought as the seconds trickled by like honey. His eyes remained on Camilla as she waited for a response. He took his time to respond, weighing the merits of her demands.
When he did answer, he replied as if he had done her a favour by deigning to respond. The sting of arrogance was taken from his words with a natural grace, cultivated for this very purpose that laced his words with humility and consideration. "You have a strange way of forging bonds of trust," he said with a slight smile. "First you pester my men, then make demands of me. And in return?"
The question he answered himself. "The promise of information. Information which I may already possess."
He drove the point home. "What would make you think I do not already know every single move the cartel leaders make?"
He did not press the subject enough to make the woman too uncomfortable. Just enough to allow the information to register. The smile on his lips as he began speaking once more was one of genuine pleasure. "Fortunately, I am not omnipresent and I respect your bold approach."
The smile faded to a face of grave respect. "The people of Mexico have taken a chance in placing their trust in me, I would be remiss not to do the same. I place my trust in you, Camilla, and I shall honour your request. You shall be at my side when each of the tumours are cut from this country."
He left the subject of betrayal untouched.
She was no stranger to arrogance, and the man in front of her had more than plenty. If he expected her to squirm in her boots, she would have to disappoint him. He spoke to her as one did to a child, and though most people would have felt insulted, Camila found him somewhat amusing. His mention of trust was interesting. Though he spoke of his trust in her, she quickly turned it around and wondered just how much she could trust him.
“Nothing bold about it, Oakland. Timidity wastes time, and I don’t have any to throw away. If you already know what I have to share, then I walk on my way; perhaps without my intended gain, but having lost nothing. However, if you don’t, then we both gain something, no?
Anyways, you are probably aware that after you did away with Guitterez, the rest of the boys on top are not happy. Perez seems to be making plans to head on out. Monterrey, most likely. His family is already gone. Funny thing though, I think he’s organizing a little get together.”
Her arms slipped free as she raised her hands in a little shrug.
“La Cabaña is one of Gustavo Perez’ clubs. Yesterday some of Delgado’s and Solis’ men were running in and out of the place. Wear the right pair of heels, and you can hear a lot of very interesting things there.
All three of the boys like to golf, and from what I hear Gustavo has just bought a new set of clubs he’s been itching to test out. I can’t tell for sure when, but it sounds like this week. He’s not the sort to stick around when things get too hot, and if he expects you to come after him, he probably wants to be where he feels strongest as soon as he can. I don’t know what your people have figured out, but these guys don’t like to work together. It’s rather obvious they don’t like you if they are going to this extent.”
Edited by
Camila, Jul 13 2014, 10:07 PM.
Camila’s reply was promising and Damien masked the smile that he repressed. The woman was driven by something, and she had no time for games. Perfect. He had grown weary of dealing with politicking moguls and self-serving opportunists. Would they never been content? Had he not shown his devotion to the greater cause? It sickened him, just as the Senators had.
He listened to Camila’s information carefully and pursed his lips in pensive thought. Truly, he had expected no less. When threatened by the lion, gazelle flocked together. Good. They had realised that they were no longer the hunters but the prey.
But what to do? He could not allow them to leave Mexico City; that was certain. His hand was around their throats and he would not allow them a moment’s respite. However, it was too soon to launch a direct assault. The recruits were still raw and he would not risk a bloodbath. Assassination was not an option either. The downside of revealing his gift meant they would not be caught off guard. He did not regret the decision. The people’s allegiance and faith was his strongest asset. The death of Guitterez had tripled the number of volunteers and he saw hope shine in their eyes instead of grim acceptance.
“Oakland,”
Rosita called out in a voice louder than necessary. She still did not understand that the pattern he wove would stop him from hearing anything outside its boundaries. The concern in her voice made him frown and spin on his heels.
Allowing the pattern to fade, he addressed the severe woman’s furious gaze. “Yes?”
Her footsteps were heavy as she crossed the few yards that separated them to whisper in his ear. “The American Embassy has been destroyed,”
to the thunder she saw in his eyes she quickly added, “Not us. In fact, there seems to be very little trace of what happened.”
Damien nodded without a word, dismissing Rosita by turning back to Camila. “Forgive the interruption, something has come up.”
He said in way of explanation. Gone was the honeyed words and soothing smile. Titanium would have bent under the weight of his anger.
News of this would prove difficult, particularly given his history. It was a well aimed attack, but he would not be daunted by the threat of the North. “The cartels have just signed their death warrants,
” he announced to those around him. “Camila has given us vital information; see that she is given the respect you would give to me.”
“The United States Embassy has been attacked,”
he said without preamble. “They seek to use my past against me. It will not work. Prepare to secure the city’s perimeters. Nobody shall enter or leave without my permission.”
To Rosita he said, “Ask your father to prepare a national broadcast for tomorrow morning and make sure it will be seen in every corner of the globe.”
To Camila he directed his next words. “Your desire may come sooner than you thought. Come, we have work to do.”
Camila watched his face, trying to judge his initial reaction. She saw no signs that he was already privy to the information she provided, nor did she see any signs of great surprise. Instead, the man’s face was pensive, and while she could imagine he’d half expected these news, the precise nature of his thoughts remained a mystery.
From behind Damien, the woman called out to him. Whatever she said to him seemed to be great import, based on his statements afterward. Things moved fast from then on. To his guards’ surprise, Camila was accepted among them; then the news about the embassy were brought to light.
The more she learned of Oakland, the more power he seemed to have. Were they trading one corrupt system for another? His mention of his past peaked her interest, and it would be something she’d have to look further into later. Up until that point, she had only focused on his current intentions. Yet, would knowing more of the man’s background make any difference?
Nodding after he spoke to her once more, Camila followed. Damien seemed to think the bombing was an attempt for the cartels to discredit him, but she had her doubts. In any case, she’d managed to get what she wanted. She had one foot in the door, and was one step closer to cutting the bastards down.
The thought of having a hand in the end of the cartels placed a fleeting smile on her lips. Whatever happened next, she’d make sure Oakland came out on top so long as he did what he promised.
Dane found himself standing with the hotel clerks, watching the video splayed along the glass wall behind the desk. Two women, dark haired and beautiful, were also watching, but neither had yet to turn to greet him. They were too absorbed in the horror billowing up from the US Embassy in clouds of black smoke.
Dane stifled his satisfaction and began to turn away. Lunch was on his mind, and he was interested in seeking out another fruit drink he'd ordered yesterday.
Then the two girls muted the video and began to chatter among themselves, still primarily having ignored his presence. Dane did not mind as he walked away. They were preoccupied with him whether they knew it or not.
Until something caught his ear. He paused and turned back.
"What? Did you say the cartels bombed the embassy?"
His face was deadpan, his voice cool.
The first woman, with short black hair that curled around her ears in a pixie cut nodded with tears on her eyes. Her name badge read Jazmín. "Yes. That is what they are saying on the news."
The second woman wore her dark hair in a tight bun above a narrow black dress. Her name tag read Madeleine. "They say it was revenge, Senor Gregory. The cartels against Senor Oakland. To discredit him. To bring us war with the USA."
She shook her head and exchanged a look of fear with Jazmin.
Dane felt his fists clench. "They don't have proof,"
he replied. He knew that without a shadow of a doubt.
The two women's brows drew close, confused, but Dane turned away. They resumed speaking in Spanish as he entered the elevator.
When he reached his apartment-home, he entered the brightly lit space and placed his Wallet and belongings on the counter. He poured himself a glass of water and drank it while staring flatly at a vase of flowers. In a sudden torrent of rage, power flowed through his bodies and every petal came into sharp focus.
Drink finished, he set down the glass and crossed to the vase.
He picked it up and hurled it across the room. It shattered into dozens of pieces that sparkled in the morning light like raindrops.
He didn't feel any better.