latino_menace | OOM: Bogotá on fight night

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?"

He looks at her, considering.

'I don't know if he'd fit.'

The car behind is a Mercedes with a big trunk but he doesn't want to mess that up. It's his.

'We can try I guess. Hector, get out. Make yourself useful for once.' He looks back at Fi. 'Can you help Rico?'

"Yeah. Give me your shirt."

She beckons. He already knows she has medical training; she stitched him up.

"I need to put pressure on that leg wound or he won't last until we get back."

Even in situations like this, Ramon has no objection to getting his clothes off. He peels it over his head and hands it to her - hell, he would have thrown it away anyway - then steps out of the car.

He had liked Henri. Everyone did. He was part of the furniture (until you pissed him off) and Raul's closest friend, which is why he was trusted to drive Ramon places. Hector looks like he might cry but that might be because he's sobered up.

'Get his legs.'

At least the kid is strong for his age. It's not too difficult stowing the body and two of his crew come and help before going to get the other dead guy, Juan. Every one of them asks if Rico is OK and expresses sorrow about Henri - they might be trigger happy assholes but they do, at least, share some comradeship.

'How's he doing?' he asks Fi as he gets behind the wheel. Seeing as she's in the back, the kid gets the front and looks happy about it.

Rico groans again, probably because she's wrapped Ramon's shirt around his thigh and is twisting it tight to stop the flow of blood. This means she's covered in his blood now.

"He'll live. But I hope your uncle knows a good surgeon."

She looks down at her tunic and sighs.

'My father and Raul know everyone useful.'

This is probably not much of an overstatement. Ramon guns the engine and pulls a quick U-turn to get the hell out of here. He knows this city backwards and takes as many backstreets as possible to avoid traffic but it still takes thirty minutes or so to get back to his father's house. As soon as they're there he jumps out, pausing only to say,

'Stay with him. I'll call the doctor and then we'll get him out of the car - Hector, come on.'

Five minutes and he's back with two guys to help.

'We'll put him in the kitchen.'

She gets out of the way, completely unselfconscious about wiping her hands on her jeans.

"Want me to wait outside?"

Ramon gives a look that clearly says she's a freak.

'Not unless you want to go out to dinner covered in blood. Come on.'

He forgets that she has no idea he has rooms in this house as well - and it's a pretty damn impressive looking house. Rico is half supported, half carried around the side of the place and through the back into the kitchen, which is a room that looks far to nice to have a man bleeding all over it. No one gives a damn about that though, it has a big enough table to let him lie down. People start getting clean towels and water; Ramon ignores them and gets a couple of beers out of the fridge, handing one over to Fi and watching the scene dispassionately.

'The doctor won't be long,' says a voice and Fi will have no trouble being able to surmise who this is. Apart from being bigger and taller, the man looks very like the older version of Ramon. 'And Raul is coming over.'

'Henri is dead, papa.'

'...oh.' Ramon shows no special respect for the man but there is an easy familiarity, far more like equals than father and son. He doesn't look at him while this news is imparted and Salazar the elder doesn't look at his boy, choosing to muse in the direction of the window instead. 'I'll tell him. He'll want to talk to you obviously but perhaps it would be better if he didn't see you until tomorrow anyway.'

'I'm going out after I clean up.'

'Who's she?' Emanual nods at Fiona as if she can't hear him speak.

'She's with me.'

Beat.

'She killed about four of them and kept Rico alive in the car so don't give me shit, alright?'

His father closes his mouth, looks amused (for unclear reasons), then winks at Fi with an expression she'll probably be quite familiar with. 'Go out then. But I expect you here before lunchtime tomorrow.'

Ramon just shrugs (he'll be late, he always is) and jerks his head towards Fi, indicating the stairs so she knows to follow him.

She waits until Ramon is a few steps ahead of her and turns to look back at his father, an impish grin on her face. The resemblance is uncanny, and maybe she lets a little of the fire in her eyes shine through, who can tell?

She has to tear her eyes away, lest she be left behind though.

The house must be huge, for as long as it takes them to get to Ramon's rooms.

"You live here too?"

It's probably a good thing he didn't see that. He would hate to be jealous of his father. Or maybe he'd offer to share, who knows?

'No.'

He unlocks the door, revealing a very large bedroom and en suite bathroom, with another two rooms through an archway - a sitting room and what appears to be a games room. It has a pool table in it anyway and a setup for a cards game.

'They're just left here from before I moved out - what are my parents going to do, let someone else move in? I stay here sometimes if I'm nearby or if I need to be around for work.'

Basically, if his place is closer to whatever club he falls out of at 4am, he comes here rather than making the trip to his place. Or if there's a threat and the family need to be kept secure. The two houses are interchangeable for him, he comes and goes as he pleases.

'I don't have any women's clothes obviously but if you take yours off, they can get cleaned before we go. Or borrow some of my mother's, I don't know.'

This may be just a ploy to get her naked (he's sure she won't notice his sly cunning there) and he's not shy about kicking his own clothes off. But then, he never is.

She takes a little turn around the room, and heads into the game room, running one hand down the felt of the pool table.

"You have someone who can get blood out of these jeans?"

Game room scoped out, she heads for his closet, pawing through his shirts until she finds one in silk. Red? Blue? Something jewel-toned and sharp looking.

"You attached to this?"

He shrugs.

'It's a shirt.'

He doesn't get attached to clothes. As for the laundry, he simply goes to the door, opens it and yells a name. He picks up his own jeans and holds them out to the maid that appears.

'Get rid of them. And clean up hers. We're going out as soon as they're done so hurry up.'

He really wants to be out of here before his uncle shows up and before his father realises how much danger Hector was in.

She pulls the shirt out and throws it on the bed, skinning out of her jeans and tunic, palming something before handing them to the maid.

"Gracias, señora."

Standing there in her bra and panties, she shoots Ramon a look. The knife in her palm unfolds and she deftly cuts the sleeves off the shirt. A little tuck here and there, and voilà! A sexy little dress that goes down to mid thigh.

'Clever.'

He wanders over and touches the hem, running the thin material between his fingers.

'Flimsy though. You never know when it might just fall off.'

She slits her eyes at him, but she can't help but grin back at him. She slips it off again, hangs it back in the closet.

"Shower?"

'Yeah.'

Her back is given an appreciative look as she turns to hang the dress up and he waits until she turns back around before pointing the way, following behind her.

It's not some poky, cramped, stuffed-in-a-corner en suite. It's a proper bathroom, complete with large tub and seperate shower. Ramon pushes his shorts off and lobs them in the direction of the laundry basket (missing by a mile) then turns the water on and holds the door open for her.

'After you.'

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