Man on Fire
...
"So we are at an agreement?" Mr Swan asks as he clinks the clear ice cubes around the dark liquid of his glass. The motion irks me but I manage to smile graciously at his proposal.
"It seems so." I answer, taking his outstretched hand.
Quil had been right. The family really didn't care they were hiring a drunk after seeing the extensive resume I held.
"Excellent," he nods, gripping my hand momentarily before releasing it. "It's nice to actually hire an American after the last body guard."
"Would it be rude of me to ask what happened to your last employee?" I query as we both stand from the leather couches of Mr Swan's home office.
"My wife felt he was too... graphic with our daughter. You have to understand, our daughter is most important to my wife and I. She is the... apple of our eye."
"Of course."
Opening the door of the office Charlie continues leading us toward the out-residence that will become my home for the next year. The compound as a whole is vast and wide spread. The high walls are a good beginning, but with twenty three abductions in the last two weeks, something tells me it won't be enough.
"Tell me Mr. Black, do you have children?"
"Uh. No sir, no children."
"That's a pity." he answers sincerely, pushing open the wooden panel dooring to reveal a modest set living area and kitchen. "I'll let you unpack. My wife and daughter will be home later tonight. Feel free to explore the main house and compound."
"Thank you, sir."
Watching Mr Swan make his way toward the main house I close the door silently. Grasping the duffel bag which the maids have already brought to the room I fish out my dear friend Jack. Shrugging off the jacket I reach for the cupboard in search of a glass.
Even with the dense traffic in Mexico City, the air feels cleaner somehow. The humidity is already sticking to my heated skin and I spare no thought in tugging open to top buttons of my dress shirt and rolling the sleeves to my elbows.
The liquid of the bottle is cool to the touch though when it slides down my throat, the searing heat begins immediately. It feels good to finally have a moment to myself. Between the transit and Quil's ever watchful eye, I feel like I am finally alone.
Tipping the bottle down I pour another drink as I contemplate the next morning's meeting with Julio Mendez, head of the compounds security team.
...
The sound of a knock startles me from my sleep. Sitting up and running a hand over my face I glance at the half empty bottle knowing why I had fallen asleep. The absence of artificial light allows the moons rays to shine through the glass panels, lighting the small verandah from the living room in an eerie blue light.
Running my fingertips over my holstered gun in an act of comfort, I stand gingerly and answer the door.
The maid who I first met stands at the door, a light blush over her dark skin.
"Señor Black. The family requests your presence for dinner at the main house." she says softly in a voice foreign to the ears of such a person in my field of work.
"Thank you -"
"Lola." she finishes for me.
In an attempt to save face I brush my teeth and wash my face before I find myself heading to the main house. I can hear the squelching of the grass beneath my boots and with the sun now gone, the humidity seems to have eased also.
The house is a huge structure in the middle of the compound. With sandstone and brick it sits between manicured gardens and outer stone walls. Long white curtains hang, tied to each pillar surrounding the house which dance softy in the nights wind. The noise from the busy streets outside are but a whisper over the large walls, creating a continuous soft hum.
The door is opened before I reach it, and I nod kindly to an older woman who I gather is somehow related to Lola granted their uncanny resemblance.
Leading me through the home I take in the photographs hanging on the walls. Pigtails and braids fill the pictures, along with big brown eyes and a wide smile. It's evident to see why the daughter of this family is held in high regard. Not only is the child beautiful, everything about her eludes happiness.
"Mr Black, please," Charlie says as he stands from the head of the table and motions me to sit.
"Thank you and Jacob is fine, sir" I reply, feeling mildly uncomfortable with him using the same title I would address my father in.
"Alright, Jacob." he nods, his attention soon diverted by the slamming of doors and the stomping of descending shoes making their way down the cascading staircase.
"You can't be fucking serious," a girl with uneven black hair screeches as she makes her way toward Mr Swan, fury burning in her big brown eyes. "I am not. going. back to that. school."
She looks familiar and I can't help but raise a brow. I look to Mr Swan for an explanation to the screeching banshee who has interrupted the family's dinner.
Calmly placing his wine glass down he looks blankly at the girl. It's as if this situation is a regular occurrence.
"Jacob, meet my ever pleasant daughter. Leah, meet Mr Black. He will be accompanying you while outside the property. That includes to and from that school and any extracurricular activities." He leaves no room from arguments as he sips his wine.
Growling the girl eyes me warily before scowling back at Mr Swan.
"Great. Just what I need, another babysitter."
With her arms folded and her lips pouted I figure that when I speak to Quil later on, he has some major explaining to do. When he'd described the job to me I'd believed the client's daughter was much younger than the semi adult sitting in front of me. Instead of a young child, I had an immature spoilt brat to deal with. Her unanticipated age would make things much more... difficult.
"Lucky for you, I'm not a baby sitter then," I smile back as I unwrap the red velvet napkin and tuck it into my collar.
"Whatever, wolf man," the banshee mumbles as she rolls her eyes and snaps the napkin over her lap.
Consciously I scratch the stubble over my face. It isn't extremely prominent but I gather by the way everyone in the home is clean cut, shaven and presentable, it is something that seems unimpressionable.
"How was your day, dear?" Charlie asks as he cuts into his steak.
The girl, Leah, hesitates for a moment before answering. "We visited Panteon Delores."
She seems uncomfortable speaking of the subject as she picks at the vegetables on her plate. She hesitates twice more before pressing her lips together and slumping back in her chair.
Charlie nods, a sympathetic look rolling across his features. "Your mother?"
Sighing, she frowns. "She just needs a few hours to herself."
I'm glad that the dinner goes on without another hitch. I try my best to eat what is provided but I'm still much too buzzed from my earlier endeavours. My skin prickles each time I catch the girl staring at me but I brush it off.
It's human instinct to be curious of a stranger. The mind congers such grand ideals about the people we know nothing about. It shapes opinions, assumptions and general beliefs. She's interested in me; it's not hard to tell. She wants to know things about me I am not comfortable sharing. She wants a front row seat into my life. Much like a child in a candy store, she wants what she can't have.
...
Julio Mendez shows me the layout of the compound after our initial introductions. Blue faded scribble fills the A3 sheet of carbon paper.
"As you can see the structure of the house and compound has namely remained unchanged since its original erection." he grumbles as he lights a smoke between his teeth. Taking a large puff, he exhales in my direction.
"What are these marks here?" I ask, dragging my finger over a greyed out section of the plans. Like piping, they seem to run in every direction under the compound; thin spaces leading on to large branching intersections.
"Uh. They are exactly what you think they are. In 1908, before the house was built, escape tunnels where forged deep beneath the earth. Nobody's been down there for years. Between the crumbling brick and the already collapsed panels, it's too unsafe to use."
Scratching my chin I memorise the pattern. It looks much like a flower, branching out into tiny passageways. They are close connecting but not complicated.
"Are there entry points in the house?"
"Si."
"Where?"
As Julio explains the locations of the two entrances I notice a tiny emblem on his button up. It's small, attached to the sleeve, but my keen eyes spot it.
"You're Policía Federal?"
Twitching his lips, he exhales as he frowns. "Si. The whole compound is protected by us."
"Why?"
"You do not know whose daughter it is you are protecting?" Julio grins smugly as his brow lifts. His arrogance makes it hard for me to control my actions. I want nothing more than to jam his cigarette down his throat. "Charlie Swan is Mexico City's Secretary of Public Security. He is, as you American's say... chief."
...
An: Hey guys. I've now moved SentinelsRevenge stories to this account.