OOM: Bogotá on fight night

[latino_menace]

He'd never really thought that Fiona would take him up on his casual offer to come to watch him fight. Not that it seemed like she was full of shit or anything...but she is a woman. They say things easily, they're flippant and don't have the stomach for anything rough.

His opinion of women at the moment is, justifiably he thinks, low. Maria can shoulder a lot of the blame for that.

He always fights on a Friday and this week, he's definitely in the mood to cause some pain. He'd almost forgotten about Fi but when he opens the bathroom door and looks out onto the bar, he figures why not? He can even see her from where he's standing and she doesn't look like she's doing anything important.

'Busy tonight?'

He's never been much good at small talk.

Comments

[justcallmefee]

"Even dead men have known associates," she says, pouring them both generous shots of tequila and ignoring the fact that he killed the one she'd left alive, possibly for that very reason.

She sets his shot glass in reach and lifts hers.

"Whoever they are, may the Devil find them to have pretty, pretty skulls, and fuck them in the eye."

[latino_menace]

'I know that.'

And it hasn't escaped him - or his family, no doubt - that killing them all probably wasn't the smartest of moves. But he's not known for his restraint.

He lifts his drink too and smirks before knocking it back.

'Irish saying?'

He likes it.

[justcallmefee]

"Nah, just sounded appropriate."

She refills their glasses, relaxing a little as the alcohol hits her system.

"Here's a traditional one for you: To Henri, may he be in Heaven a half hour before the Devil knows he's dead."

[latino_menace]

He tilts his head in acknowledgment of the toast and might be about to say something but the waiter returns with their food. It's probably no surprise to anyone that Ramon never has to wait long for service. Once again, he waits until the man is gone before speaking.

'Seems like you liked him. Did you talk?'

[justcallmefee]

"Not passed the usual pleasantries. He didn't call me 'puta' like your brother did."

Her eyes cut down to the bottle again. Getting drunk here is a bad idea. That doesn't stop her from pouring again.

"But he seems like he cared about you. Like your father and your uncle."

The more she sees of his world, the more it brings her back to her days in Belfast. Fierce allegiances based on nothing more than blood. Families turning on families as the pressure to lay down arms mounted. Never sure who your friends were, even as you had to put your life in their hands day after day. It wears a body down, she knows all too well.

"I don't think that ambush was just about money."

[latino_menace]

'Yeah well, Hector's an asshole.'

Of course, Ramon also implied she was a puta when they first met too - he's an asshole as well.

'He cared about all of us. He and Raul...' Ramon isn't from a time where this sort of thing is talked about much, so it's difficult to find the right words, '...I think they've worked together since before I was born. And...you know.'

He shrugs, has another shot and picks up his fork.

'They probably killed him on purpose. Everyone knows what Raul will do once we find out who's behind it. Or what he'll ask me to do, anyway - he's not really active himself. More an advisor. But that doesn't make sense. No one will willingly want us after them unless it's some kind of trap and they think they can take us out.'

Which is probably exactly what this is about. Everyone knows Ramon is the one who does most of the dirty work - his father doesn't dirty his hands so much any more. In the interests of education, the son can do what needs to be done and it's just a bonus that he enjoys it. It's even fair really, as he'll be taking over one day. But if a rival lures him out and kills him, it pretty much ends the future of the Salazar cartel.

As for allegiances - well, Fiona may not yet know that Ramon ends up killing Hector but she can probably tell from his behviour that the brothers are not the closest they could be. With his father and uncle not going to be around forever, she'll realise why the cartel ended up being a one man show.

[justcallmefee]

"If I'd have known that, I'd have made the little shit suffer," she growls under her breath. "That's the kind of move that starts wars."

There's another string of curses, in Gaelic this time, low and harsh.

Eventually she simmers down enough to lift her glass again. This toast is offered without flourish.

"To your Uncle."

She doesn't wait for him to drink before slamming the shot back.

[latino_menace]

He looks bemused, a little.

'Known...what?'

Every move here can start wars. It's only months since the last one ended, though it wasn't a full-scale affair. Everyone knows one's coming though, there's too many people vying for the same space.

[justcallmefee]

"That he wasn't just your driver or security. That he was ... family."

She watches his eyes to see if that's the right word.

[latino_menace]

The bemusement increases as he takes a bite of his dinner (it's spicy, though she can probably tell that from the heat emenating from the plates).

'I don't think he would appreciate being introduced as Raul's long-term fuck buddy, or whatever he was.'

The family know it was more serious than that. More serious a relationship than any of them have ever had, probably. But it was never mentioned among any of them, ever. They just knew.

'He knew a lot of things about all of us. And the business. But not everything. He wasn't part of running things, unless Raul took his advice and we never realised.'

Another shrug. He could care less who his uncle liked in bed.

'Family's as good a word as any.'

[justcallmefee]

Fiona loves spicy, and her appreciation shows on her face when she tucks in. The enchiladas are excellent, and she doesn't even break a sweat.

She thinks the word husband and her eyes close for a long moment. She takes a drink of water to cover the hesitation.

"So do you have any sisters?" She doesn't look at him when she asks the question.

[latino_menace]

'No. That I know about, anyway.'

He's wondering what those closed eyes mean and watches her a beat or three before saying,

'Look, Henri knew all about what we do. He was trusted. Raul had him take me to do that job because he knew he'd look out for me and because he thought he'd be able to take care of himself. Obviously he was wrong. But he'll get over it because that could have been any of us. You proved tonight you know how it goes. Any of us could get killed on any random night and it doesn't have to be anything epic. Sometimes it's just a stray bullet from a passing punk. Come tomorrow, Raul will be acting like Henri was just another hired gun.'

And they'll all know it's a lie but none of them will dent the man's pride by asking if he's alright or by suggesting he take some time away at one of the other houses. He'll act like it's fine, they'll accept it and try not to think of how cut up the man will be inside.

Ramon, for his part, has already considered how Henri was trusted to take care of him and got killed trying to warn him of danger. Nothing much touches him but this strikes a nerve. But he'll never say a word. It's not what they do.

[justcallmefee]

She watches him as he speaks. There's something behind his eyes that she's never seen before. Some kind of -- understanding, even as he tries to push it down.

Something that died in the older Ramon's eyes a long time ago. (Something that she would kill to see in his eyes.)

"Yes, I know how it is," she nods. "I live each day knowing it."

Claire's face is bright and shining in her memory.

"Even if you know how to take care of yourself, some days it doesn't matter."

She has to stop to brush tears out of her eyes. But her face stays an emotionless mask.

[latino_menace]

'Every day? That must get old.'

It's easier, in these situations (not that he gets into many of them), to smirk it away.

'What happened?'

If this were a normal day, he'd never ask.

[justcallmefee]

If it were any other day, she would laugh and make a joke, play it off as the spicy food. But he asked, and there's something in his voice that makes her answer.

"My sister Claire was coming home from the store. There was -- some kind of disturbance. A march or something, there always was something going on. You learned to ignore it. But the British soldiers..."

She takes a deep breath. She hasn't said this out loud in years.

"Fired into the crowd. She was fifteen."

To this day, it still makes her shake with anger.

[latino_menace]

He taps his finger on the tabletop, thinking. The girl was the same age Hector is now. Would he care if a rival business took out his little brother? If it were a random shooting by some corrupt cop?

He would exact his father's revenge, no doubt. You can't let a thing like that slide. Is that the same thing?

'When was this?'

[justcallmefee]

Her fingers run around the rim of her water glass. It's not like they're from the same world. It's not like it matters. It's history, ancient history.

She swallows hard before answering him. "1986."

[latino_menace]

'Did you fix who did it?'

It's the only thing to do when shit like that happens. It doesn't matter if they're soldiers or not.

[justcallmefee]

She nods, a short sharp gesture. "Yeah, we did. One at a time."

She doesn't feel the need to elaborate on that.

"Took us nine years."

[latino_menace]

'Us? You and your brother?'

See, Fi? He was paying attention when you mentioned Seamus.

'I bet it made it better. Revenge.'

How could it not?

[justcallmefee]

"Seamus, aye. And my three other brothers and my da."

She's just starting to feel the buzz, so another shot seems in order.

"It didn't bring her back, but yeah -- it felt damn good."

[latino_menace]

His eyes flicker over her glass and he vaguely wonders if she can hold her liquor. And somehow he's not surprised to find that she has four brothers. it fits.

'I'm sure Raul will feel the same way when it's done.'

Ramon has never felt personal about revenge. Not yet.

'Though I'm sure he already knows that.'

[justcallmefee]

Not as good as having your loved one back, she thinks, swirling the pale gold liquid in the glass.

"It doesn't help in the long run. You still see their face, still think you hear their voice just in the other room."

Something makes her think she should call Michael when she gets back. She hasn't seen him in far too long.

[latino_menace]

He shrugs, tired and in unknown territory.

'I'll take your word for it. Like I said, the day after, everything carries on as normal. Nothing will bring them back.'

He's reminded himself that it isn't done, talking personally like this. There's only so far you can let the defences down.

[justcallmefee]

One shoulder lifts in a half shrug. She tucks into her food, not wanting to argue the point. (Normal is a lie.) She looks across at his plate, and then up into his face.

"You're not drinking enough."

A tired little smirk curls up the corner of her mouth.