latino_menace | OOM: Bogotá on fight night

She's watching but her gaze is flat. She puts a hand on Rico's shoulder and he clears a spot for her to get down from her perch. She stops to collect on her bets and then joins him ringside, handing his shirt back.

"Is that it?"

The grin fades on his fade and he's frowning as he takes his shirt from her, tossing away the dirty towel he'd been handed to get the sweat and blood off. He's unaware of Raul and Hector approaching from behind him and ignores the next fight starting up.

'What else were you expecting?'

"I don't know, a fight maybe?" She smirks at him, her hand skimming down his bare stomach, her fingers gripping his belt for a moment. "He wasn't any challenge for you at all. And... you've got company." She steps back as Raul and Hector join them.

Ramon opens his mouth to answer but another voice gets there first. Raul is softly spoken but you'd be hard pressed to find more authority in a tone.

'He can only fight those willing to take him on. Many others know better than to try by now.'

The man looks her up and down, then pulls at his cigar and turns to his nephew.

'Gringos now, Ramon?' He sounds vaguely amused at least. 'She'll have to wait. I just spoke to your father and there's a job you need to take care of tonight. But take Hector home first, he's drunk.'

He turns and looks at a man who immediately gets him a drink. Ramon looks at Fi and shrugs a shoulder; he's in no position to argue. But he hasn't forgotten the hand that was just on him.

'What's the job?'

'You just need to pay someone a visit. It won't take long. Henri will take you and your men.'

He knows what that means and nods, lighting a cigarette. He gestures to Fi to follow with a jerk of his head; Hector is ignored but he already knows he'll be tagging along. A car is waiting, engine running, and he holds the door open for her.

Fiona has always had a tact deficiency, but he asked her not to embarrass him, so she suppresses the smirk his uncle's comment elicits.

She slides into the car, one hand on the gun, one eye on the driver.

When he's joined her, she cocks a questioning eyebrow at him.

He holds up a finger - in a minute - and leans forward.

'Take us straight there, Henri.'

'But Hector...'

'Straight there.'

The car moves and Ramon settles back, throwing his kid brother a smoke. Time he grew up anyway.

'Paying someone a visit usually means they've done something they shouldn't and need to be taught a lesson. Or shot.'

He sounds unconcerned about which it might be.

'We'll find out when we get there.' He looks over to her, aware their legs are touching in the dark. 'You'll probably want to stay in the car.'

The fact that he's not telling her she will be staying in the car is an unusal show of respect, from Ramon.

"Have it your way," she drawls, and maybe he can hear the smirk in her voice. She's keenly aware of his proximity, and of Hector watching her.

She's also keenly aware this is not her world. She leans against the window, looking out at the city.

Her voice is quiet, almost distracted when she asks, "We still going out to dinner after?"

'Of course. We'll have to drop him,' he jerks his head at Hector, who is drunk enough to have dozed off before getting his cigarette lit, 'off first. And I'll need a shower. But after that.'

His hand comes to rest on her thigh, like it has a right to be there.

There's a car with his crew in behind them. Even if there weren't, he probably wouldn't turn around and notice the car behind that following them. Chances are good none of his guys have noticed either but they'll all find out soon enough.

"Claro," she says. Of course he needs a shower, after that little display.

She ignores his touch, eyes still taking in the city. She's still on edge from the fights, and she's not happy with being driven around. It makes her feel helpless. When she goes into situations like this, where a car can be equal parts transportation and weapons form, she drives.

"What about dancing, do you dance?" Her voice is distracted and she seems to be watching something as they round sharp corner. She's seen the other cars, but she assumes they're both his guys.

'No.'

Hell no.

'How much longer, Henri? This better not be on the other side of Cuidad Bolivar. I've got shit to do tonight.'

Whether or not he means Fiona, that's the way Henri will take it.

'Nearly there, Ramon.'

The slums are huge here. Some of them, in the future, will almost be respectable places to live and have schools and shops and water and electricity running through them. In 1979? Not so much. No one has even thought about trying to clean up this place. It's a slum out there and looks it.

Ten mintues later, they arrive. Ramon gives her leg a squeeze and pushes Hector out of the way to exit. The kid stays behind, woken from his doze, and stares freely at Fiona with a look on his face that is divided between envy, contempt and lust. Ramon is meeting with a man outside a house - a man who is holding up another man to stop him falling (a broken leg will do that to you) and nodding towards a shack a little way down the road.

He waves his guys out of their car and starts towards it, pulling a gun from the back of his jeans. The street is pretty quiet for such a rough area and there is no sign of a second vehicle behind the one that should be there.

"This is not good," she muses to herself, in English, her eyes scanning the street.

She turns in her seat, her gaze intent. Hector is ignored. Something's not right.

"Where did that second car go?"

Henri looks at her in the rearview mirror, eyebrows raised. A puta usually keeps her mouth shut around here. Not that he minds, he's just surprised.

'What?'

Hector is looking at her like she just crawled out from under a rock. But then, he's fifteen and trying to act the big man.

'Shut up. No one wants to hear from you.'

There's the clear sound of a gunshot from down the road. Ramon emerges with four guys behind him, wiping blood off his face. They're in no hurry and just saunter back towards the cars, chatting casually. None of them take any notice of the headlights coming towards them from the other end of the street.

"The second car," she answers Henri, again ignoring Hector.

"Oh there it is." The hair is standing up on the back of her neck. "Henri, you expecting company?"

One hand is on the door handle, the other is on the butt of the .45. She's counting the steps between the car and Ramon's crew. It's too many for her liking.

'...that's not with us.'

He's not stupid and reaches the same conclusion as her a split second later. He's out of the car without thinking, yelling, 'Ramon. Behind you!' and reaching for his own weapon.

They run. They make it to within ten feet of Henri's car when tyres screech, doors fly open and there's the unmistakable sound of shotguns being cocked. Everyone comes to a halt and, when instructed, turns around. The headlights can pick up Ramon's expression as he turns - angry, but not afraid.

'What do you want?'

'You're a cheat, Salazar. What do you think we want?'

'...you're not my type.'

A tall, thin guy walks up to him at that and gets up in his face. Ramon doesn't move an inch, right up until the second he jabs his elbow into the guy's throat and watches him fall. 'Anyone else?'

'We want our money. You threw that fight.'

It contines for a few more minutes, this back and forth banter that's edged with violence and the potential for murder. Ramon is vaguely aware of a couple of shapes moving but the headlights are in his eyes and he can't be sure.

Fi will likely be sure when they open the car door and grab her and Hector from the back.

'Hey! Look what I found.' This one's leer could rival Pablo's. 'His brother and his bitch.'

She hovers with her hand on the door as the scene unfolds, but stays put, the adrenaline flowing now. She counts five guys -- no, four, thanks to that elbow. Tall thin guy, another beside him with a shotgun, and the two goons who are yanking her out of the car.

Fiona breaks the grip of the guy holding her with ease, but doesn't make a move yet. Her eyes meet Ramon's. She glances at Hector, and then back to him.

She crosses her arms, her weight thrown over to one hip, looking for all the world like she's bored out of her skull.

She'll follow his lead, and get Hector out of the line of fire.

Edited 2010-03-02 23:59 (UTC)

He looks back at this group of assholes, wondering if he should be reassured by her silent assurance. He knows she talks a good game but doesn't really know if she's any good.

His father will murder him if Hector gets killed. Possibly literally. His mother, definitely.

'I don't handle the money from my bets most of the time,' he's saying, trying to calculate distance through the glare of headlights. It's tougher than it sounds and the fact that the aggressors are using them to hide behind - and have come fully loaded - suggests they're a) not entirely stupid and b) scared of retribution if he finds out who they are.

Which pretty much means they're going to get shot, whether or not he hands over any money. Which he'd never do anyway.

'You want it, go take it up with my uncle. You know who he is.' He knows they wont. No one ever starts a beef with Raul if they want to keep breathing.

It's Henri that breaks the standoff. The two guys who went for Fi and Hector seemed to assume that they could cover him as well, just by standing there. Henri is Raul's man; he knows that nothing can be allowed to happen to Ramon. So he probably knows what's going to happen as he drops his hand below the window and withdraws a .44 Magnum from the door of the car. The light hits the polished steel before he can properly aim and that's what gets him killed - but he gets a shot off first, taking the one talking to Ramon right through the shoulder.

Fiona sees Henri move and unholsters the .45 (idiots didn't even bother to check her for a weapon). The man who shot Henri is her first target, and two shots later, she falls back. The .45 shatters the night air and at this distance, she doesn't even have to check to see if she hit the man. She grabs Hector by the shirt and shoves him down behind the limo.

"Shut up and stay put," she says to the boy, her tone brooking no argument.

She lays out over the trunk of the limo, trying to find valid targets in the headlights and the dust of the scuffle. She's not about to shoot blindly into the cloud and take a chance of hitting Ramon.

At the first crack of that Magnum, Ramon throws himself to the side, out of the glare of the lights. It seems extra dark now he's out of the way and it's still difficult to see. There is trash everywhere though and he gets behind a stack of broken crates, flattening his back against the wall and blinking hard to try and get some night vision back. He has his gun in his hand but he can't see to shoot.

The car is more easily visible to his left and he's sure that's Fi at the back. He can't see Hector though and he knows that lump on the floor is Henri. There are different guns going off everywhere - all his guys were carrying but they were all also stuck in those lights as well. As his vision improves, he can see at least one has gone down. He just hopes to fuck it wasn't Rico.

A few moments pass and Fiona leaves the cover of the limo, holstering the .45 and picking up one of the discarded shotguns, using her full body weight to cycle it. Better than sex, she thinks, stepping out of the lights again, circling back around.

One of the thugs is shouting Ramon's name into the dark, making some extremely unflattering allegations. She doesn't even lift the weapon to her shoulder, just fires from the hip, taking him square between the shoulders.

One of the other men close from behind her, his pistol pointed at her temple. She turns and gives him a long suffering look. She doesn't even drop the shotgun, just takes the pistol and breaks his wrist in the process. He goes down screaming and she shuts him up with a blow to the temple.

A little while later and he can see better. He smirks as Fi disarms the guy closest to her and does a mental tally; by his reckoning, there's only one more left to kill. A sweep with his peripheral vision locates a shape hiding behind the car belonging to the attackers, it rises to look around and then hunkers back down while Fi shoots everything that comes near her. As she turns to deal with the one creeping up on her, it rises again - Ramon takes aim and then purposefully wings it, listening to it drop before he gets up and wanders over.

The guy has taken it through the side and there seems to be a lot of blood. The wound also stops him from stetching out and grabbing his weapon in time. Ramon watches his attempts, lazily lighting a cigarette and then kicking the gun away when the searching hand gets too close to it.

'This was just about money?'

He refuses to speak, just glares in the dim light. Ramon shrugs and adds, 'Well, I hear you wont need any where you're going,' and shoots him in the face to finish it. That taken care of, he heads back over to his own vehicle to see who's still alive.

Fiona has dropped to the side of one of the downed men to rummage through his pocket for shotgun shells. She stands, eyes still scanning the scene as she thumbs the rounds into the chamber.

She hears the shot and turns, the barrel dropping when she sees it's Ramon.

Her eyes play over his form. Not his blood. A little relief shows in her face.

"Where's Rico?"

He turns to look and sees him on the ground close by. He's alive, though holding his leg, and Ramon might go see if he's alright but then his eyes fall on Hector and his face darkens.

'Get up off the ground. What the fuck's the matter with you?'

'Ramon...'

'Shut up!' He stalks over, grabs the kid and drags him to his feet, pushing him against the car. 'Where's your gun?'

'...in my pocket.'

'What the fuck use is it in there? You sit on the ground and let a woman do all the work for you? What the hell is the matter with you?'

There's no reply and Ramon sneers in disgust, high on adrenaline and anger, and shoves him into the back seat - only it's not like in the movies, where someone dives in headfirst without effort, Hector bounces off the side of the car first because he didn't duck in time and Ramon has to kick the back of his knees to get him to fold down low enough to be pushed inside.

That done, he turns to Fi and eyes the gun in her hand.

'You're pretty good with that,' is what he says, casual, as though she didn't just take out three or four guys on her own. 'Did you kill that last one?'

He didn't think he heard a shot.

"He won't be getting back up," she sneers, helping Rico to his feet and over to the car. "And no, I didn't waste a round on him."

It's kind of a ridiculous scene, this tiny woman hefting the giant to his feet, catching his weight across her shoulders, but she does it like it's nothing at all.

"Can we get the fuck out of here please?"

'Yeah.'

He leaves the door open for Rico to sit next to Hector and walks around to the back of the car. He has no qualms about wasting a round on the guy, and does so without thought. Then he goes to help Fi ease the injured man into the back seat and finds the car keys on in Henri's pocket.

'I've got to take Hector home and tell Raul to come get the body. Henri worked with him his whole life.' He is not looking forward to that conversation but his father might take care of it. 'And then I'm going to clean up and we can go out.'

She doesn't even wince. She has no illusions about who he is, or what that man tried to do to them. Hell, she wouldn't have hesitated herself if she wasn't conserving ammo.

Fi touches his arm. If she wasn't speaking Spanish, her real accent would be coming through loud and strong.

"You want to leave him here? Doesn't this thing have a trunk?"

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