At a bar, just a few miles outside of San Mateo County, men cheered and toasted to the various things that were transpiring around them. In the midst of all this commotion, there sat a man in his mid 40s, drinking away at several shots of whiskey.
The man's name, Miguel Chavez. He appeared to be more inebriated than he actually was; a common ploy he used when entering bars. You see, Miguel was more or less a professional thief, and had been for the past 12 years since his wife's passing. You could almost tell by looking at his graying brown hair, and brown eyes that he had been through a lot.
As he downed another shot of alcohol, the men cheered him on, and congratulated him. On the table sat various bills of money, and change from the people betting on him.
"12 shots in a row. How do you do it, amigo?" a bar patron said.
"Well, you see, gentlemen. It's all about concentration, and focus." Miguel said. "Alcohol will only control you, if you let it."
He stood up, and at that moment, deliberately fell to the side, near a man's pocket. Dangling out of the pocket was an expensive looking pocket watch.
"Whoa. Hold on there. Don't want to pass out, just yet." another bar patron said.
Miguel quickly swiped the pocket watch and placed it into his own pocket as the men helped him to his feet. Evidently, no one was aware of what had just happened.
"Bartender. Another shot." Miguel said, slamming his fist to the bar table, twice.
Outside, next to a few barrels and a horse trough, stood three figures. Two boys and a girl. All were teens. For the last 15 minutes, the boys had been trying to woo the girl, and for the sake of subterfuge, she was playing along.
"Where are you from, bonita?" one of the boys asked.
"Oh, from here, and there." the girl answered. "I'm from wherever you want me to be."
"You are very beautiful." the other boy said.
"Thank you, sweetheart." the girl responded. "You know, you two are some of the nicest boys I have ever met."
The boys smiled at each other, as they liked the sound of that. They had thought she was interested in them, but the fact of the matter was, 15 year old Anamaria Chavez had taken the money from their pockets at least ten minutes ago.
Ana, as she was regularly called, was indeed very beautiful. She had olive skin flowed perfectly with her long black hair. The boys could barely keep themselves from staring into her dark green eyes.
"Would you like me to buy you something to drink?" one of the boys asked.
Ana's eye's grew wide.
"No. No, thank you." she said quickly. "The drinks shall be on me."
The three of them walked back into the bar, and back into the loud cheering of Miguel's drinking.
As they passed by to find a table, Ana shot Miguel, her father, a look. They've obviously done this before.
While everyone's attention was on Ana and the boys while they were walking into the bar, Miguel attempted to steal a wallet out of someone's pocket.
Unfortunately, another man saw this attempt.
"Thief! He's a thief!" the man screamed.
All eyes were now on Miguel.
"Thief?" Another man questioned.
Instinctively, a couple of guys checked their pockets and realized that a few of their possessions had been missing as well. They turned to Miguel, whose pockets looked relatively full.
"You bastard!" one man yelled.
A complete bar fight then started. A man punched Miguel in the face, and he retaliated with a few punches of his own. Somehow, his fighting was more sophisticated than most. 3 more men ganged up on him, but surprisingly, he was doing well with them.
The sound of glasses smashing filled the room, and the screaming in the bar got a lot louder.
Upstairs, in one of the rooms, there was the sound of a woman, moaning in ecstasy. Under the covers in a bed, lay a young man, 17 years of age, with a bargirl.
The boy's name is Santiago Chavez. Miguel's son, and Ana's older brother. Apparently he had wanted to be recreational tonight, while his family conducted their usual thieving.
Santiago was handsome, and sarcastic. He had a sort of young Alejandro flair to his attitude. His lean, yet muscled body was complimented by his brown eyes and medium long, dark curly hair.
As he kissed the beautiful bargirl, who was clearly enjoying herself, Santiago turned his head when he heard the sound of the commotion downstairs.
Realizing what was going on, he decided it was time to split. He sprang up, off of the girl, and put his pants on.
"Hey!" the girl said. "¿Qué te pasa?" (What's wrong?)
As Santiago was putting his shirt on, she smiled at the bargirl.
"Disculpa, mi amor. Necesito que ir." (Excuse me, darling. I have to go now.) he said.
"Espera, no me pagaste." (Wait! You haven't paid me yet.) the girl said back.
But, it was too late. Santiago, had already shut the door.
He bolted downstairs, to see his father fighting many bar patrons.
Just for the sake of thrills, Santiago joined in, punching a few guys, distracting from the real reason the fight started.
Once he had time, Santiago took out a small sack, and emptied the money from the table into it.
"Time to go, Dad." he shouted to his father.
Miguel nodded, as the father and son pushed their way through the crowd of men like football players, knocking several of them down in the process.
Turning to his sister at the table as he ran, Santiago shouted:
"Ana! Vámonos!"
Ana got up, and ran out of the bar with her father and brother, as many of the men got to their feet to chase after them.
Outside, where the horses were tied to a log, Santiago quickly untied all of their ropes, and slapped many of them so that they would begin running away.
Ana, Miguel, and Santiago then climbed on top of their respective horses, and rode away.
When the men from the bar got outside, they found that all of their horses had run off into numerous directions. They all cursed amongst each other as they saw the Chavez family ride off; the hooves of the horses leaving trails of dust behind them.
Miguel cheered at Santiago's tactical genius as the three of them rode into the night.