"They took away my life," he shot back.
"My children make their own choices. I just wish they did not need to destroy so many lives."
The old man sipped his drink and smoked the large cohiba. He wore lite linen and slouched a little with his legs crossed.
"You are known for blood" Gibbs said. "My wife and daughter just add to that list."
The old man consider the comment. He had to admit he was right. He built an empire on blood. And granite grave stones. But he would never admit this publicly. Compared to others, he killed less. He wanted a different kind of business. He wanted to only take down those who go in his way, not innocent children who happened to see something they should not have.
He knew his son could have survived a trial and all jail time would have been useful to making him a more disciplined businessman. He hated his son's low class way of living.
The old man grew up at a time when the American mob only killed its own. His son Pedro did not believe in that.
Gibbs knew the old man, a criminal, was not just that. Over the years he'd spent time learning about Reynosa and its members and structure. He was considered an elder statesman. A bad man with a big heart. But for 20 years he would have preferred him to be dead.
How can I say I am sorry to this man, the old man thought. It would admit that I somehow played a role in the death of this man's family.
"A young man once told about how his pig ran away. He said he was very angry. He told me it was not fair. And he told me that he hated the pig. But he realized the pig was wild. And the wild ones never stay."
"Are you asking my forgiveness?" Gibbs asked.
"No. I am not. You do not have to grant that for me. But I am trying."
The small children playing in the open yard with the green grass the high fences reminded Gibbs of what Kelly would have had. Instead he was sitting here with the man partly responsible for her not having it.
Mole is made better in Mexico. And so is the coffee. The steak was tender and good. The rice was plump and full of flavor. It was placd under the steak on the grill so the blood and fat dripped down coating the rice.
Looking over the sea, he thought of Kelly and Shannon. They would have loved it here.
The old man was cracking crab legs with his dark hands and asking GIbbs about his life.
"Did you ever marry again?" he asked.
"Yes. Three times."
"I would not have been able to do that. When my Rosa died, I left for three months and went to live in Montana."
"Yeah. It never really worked out."
The old man slowly ate his snapper.
"This is good beef," Gibbs said.
"How old was your daughter?" the old man asked.
"Had just tuned nine."
The old man turned to Gibbs and looked him straight in the eye. Gibbs looked back at the soft eyes of an old man who had regrets.
"You have my word, that the no one from my organization will ever harm a hair on anyone close to you. Ever."
"You can't make that promise. No one can."
"As long as I breath, you are safe to live your life."
"What must I do in exchange?" Gibbs asked.
"Nothing. If we break a law, bring us to justice. Carry on as you have."
Gibbs knew such a statement was never etched in stone. One false move and he could end up at a funeral or be the one in the casket or a ditch.
The old man knew he was making an impossible promise. He would make sure that no one ever hurt Gibbs or his father or anyone. He also knew his people might not honor that. The organization was too big. He did have enough control.
He got up to leave. the old man put something in his hand.
"Here," he said and handed him a small package.
"What is this?" Gibbs asked.
"Toffee. Good toffee. My daughter loved it. Tell your father to sell it in his store. He will make money from it."
"I do not need gifts. But I will take it. Because it is good toffee."
As he walked away, Gibbs knew he had gained a friend. Even if the man had taken those he loved from him, Shannon and Kelly would have wanted him to move on. He would never regret the bullets he shot in revenge of their deaths but this was a sense of completion.
The old man pulled on the arm of his gunman.
"You keep him safe. I don't want anything to happen to him."
The young man nodded."