Where do we go from here?
Chapter 1
Sands stays in Mexico after the coup. He abandoned the CIA and is now in a different business. It's been a year since and he's finally found El.
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"I am now the biggest dealer in, shall we say, illegal substances in all of Mexico, and the biggest importer into the U.S."
"You did all this in one year?" asked El, who had just arrived and was already suprised.
"No, I built my empire in ten months. The last two months of the year I've spent looking for you, fucker." Sands may have lost his sight but his "eloquent" language never failed.
"What happened to all that talk of balance? Aren't there too many of the bad now that you're the king of cocaine?"
"Well, you never killed el Presidente and after I had that bastard who took my eyes taken care of, along with his little slut daughter, there was a great need for something really terrible to even things out. And, it's not just coke, buddy."
"Then what, exactly, do you need me for?"
"In case you haven't noticed, my dear El, I am blind…"
"So?"
"So, I need some one to shoot for me."
"From what I have heard, you can shoot quite well for yourself." El noticed.
"That's only if I can get my opponent to, let's say, laugh, or talk to me, or scream. Unfortunately most of my enemies have gotten too smart to speak anymore. Are you done asking questions?"
"No. Why did you stay in Mexico?"
"The CIA doesn't want an agent who can't see"
There was a silence which seemed to shock El. He'd never been in a situation where El hadn't come up with some quick, rude little comment. He took the opportunity to look over Sands. After all he couldn't see what he was doing. El couldn't help eyeing the man. He dressed the same, wore the same shades, talked the same as he did a year ago. Only, he was a different man.
"Are you going to answer me? I know you're still here. I didn't hear you walk away."
"What if I refuse to help you?" the guitar player asked.
"Then my men will try to kill you, which you know they can't because you'll always be the better shooter. So… I guess I'll try to find that little mariachi friend of yours. Not the one who drinks, I want the whore one."
"His name is Lorenzo. And you're right, he is a whore."
"So he'll do it?" The former agent asked.
"Yes, but you will not need him."
"Does that mean you'll help me?"
El got up and began to walk away. Sands would find him when he needed him.
"You really should try my chicken!" mentioned Sands before El was out of hearing range.
"What happened to pork?" he asked.
"Shooting chefs over chicken is just so much more gratifying."
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A/N: hope you guys liked the first chapter! R&R!!