Ch 11, Rock Bottom

James wore running shoes, and his steps made no noise as he walked down the hospital corridor to the private room Lena was had been moved to.

The door was open, and he could see Pote sitting in a chair on the side of the bed, head and shoulders slumped down, hands in his lap, leg nervously bouncing. He had not dozed off!

As James darkened the doorstep, Pote lifted his head and James couldn't help but gasp at the colorful swollen eye that he had left on the man's face.

Their eyes met for a long moment as James realized Pote was staring at his slightly swollen lip. Then he said in an even tone: "I see I left a mark on your face too, Cabron!"

James shook his head: "I'm sorry, man! I truly am!" He didn't have the heart to tell Pote that the mark was not from their fight, but from Teresa's teeth. It was irrelevant anyways!

Pote seemed somehow smaller and older. Maybe it was because he didn't even bother to straighten his shoulders. His whole appearance projected pain with such intensity that James felt it cut through his heart. I do love the old dog, no matter how much he runs his mouth!

Pote nodded in the direction of the other chair and James sat silently, his eyes on the sleeping Lena, whose face was bandaged on the left side.

"She is sedated. Won't wake up for another hour at least." Pote said flatly.

Then he went on, his good eye and whatever was visible from his swollen one, looking past James to the wall and beyond: "Both Kelly Anne and I…we had missed calls from our girl!"

Then his eyes found James's s and he added voice breaking down: "I knew she'd call you guys next …if there was any trouble…and I prayed you had picked up right away…because after what happened between us…what I did to you…you might not have…"

"I will always be there for your children, Pote!" James interjected, voice hard and insistent, as if he was trying to drill it into Pote's head. "Like I was before!"

"Gracias, brother. I'm in your debt…Will be till the day I die. Just tell me what I can do to….ahh…pay back for the damage I inflicted on you and Teresita…again…the shit I put you through…I am so sorry…lo siento mucho…creeme, por favor!" Pote's voice choked again.

James so wanted the shit between them to go away somehow; the tightness in his chest not to be there at the thought of both Pote and Kelly Anne, whom he considered family.

His words came out without much thinking and reflected his mind: "We were set up…and we aren't letting them break us over this…"

"So, you…and Teresita are willing to…ahh…forgive me?" Pote said hesitantly.

James almost chuckled: "Are we …going to overanalyze it to death…like women do?"

Pote took a second, then chuckled himself: "Gracias, brother…muchas gracias!"

James brought coffee from the cafeteria, and they sipped in silence after Pote shared the 'excellent' prognosis the doctor had given them about Lena's face before Kelly Anne had left for the house.

Just as Pote exhaled heavily and left his empty paper cup on the side table, James heard himself say: "You can mess up my family …Teresa and me, I mean…but you can't fuck it up!"

Pote looked at him quizzically and James went on: "I don't want you to…ahh…torture yourself. Just like …all these years ago in Phoenix… because I intended to find her back… no matter what you had said…or who she had decided she trusted!"

Pote nodded understandingly, then visibly tried to calm his hands that seemed to James like the jittery hands of a serious smoker under pressure being deprived of his drug of choice.

Pote's voice came on heavy: "I have always wanted a son…And it's my curse that now it turns I have one…and he might be trying to kill my daughter! What punishment is this? What cruel fate is this?"

James got up and took a few nervous steps around.

Pote stared at his feet as he went on: "Back in Phoenix…when I had to kill Kelly Anne…I wish I was dead, Cabron! Because I loved her then, just like I always have…and now if I have to kill my son to protect the rest of my family…" His voice choked again and his shoulders shook under the powerful emotions tearing him apart.

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that." James mumbled just as both their cells pinged.

As James had his in his back pocket, he pulled it out before Pote could lift himself up from the chair to rummage in his jacket for his.

"It looks like the camera Teresa had them install recorded some movement!" James said after taking a few seconds to watch the short vid attached to the text.

"It's not very clear but I'm positive this is an Asian man operating the lift," James kept talking: "…and moving the pallet with the coke to the entrance of the warehouse…"

"Where we had another camera put in!" Pote interjected: "Let me call her right away…We need to see if the other camera caught the license plate of the vehicle, they must have loaded the product on."

"What for?" James said and sat down in the chair on the other side of Lena's bed. "I know who the drugs belong to and who their contact in our operation is."

Pote wrinkled his eyebrows which gesture made his swollen and partially shut eye seem grotesque.

"They belong to a Chinese mogul by the name of Wong…Bustamante works for him…and they are both in the crosshairs of Castel Fioto and you know who else…" James raked his hand through hair and let Pote absorb the facts.

Pote inhaled and exhaled deeply and slowly as if pondering the fact that his long-lost son was an enemy of the powerful CIA and what repercussions that might present.

James used the silence and almost whispered: "I'm sorry, Pote. I'm sorry this man is…related to you…fuck…is actually your son…who is going to face the CIA…on top of having injured your daughter. It's a bitch…I can't even imagine how it must feel!"

Pote exhaled again and his good eye focused on James, moist and sparkling: "We don't know it was Carlos who harmed Lena for sure…I'm grasping at straws here…but I would do anything I could to …ahh…turn him…and save him…from the grasp of the pinche CIA. Are you with me?"

The last words came out with such intensity that James took a sharp breath and said: "You realize what you're asking of me?"

Pote's breath came out in gulps as his head fell forward on his chest as he fought to keep the overwhelming tears at bay.

James only stood up, walked over to his side, and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly: "I will talk to Castel tonight. It will sort itself out! Now, care to join me?"

And he took out a pack of Boro Lights from his pocket and hovered it under Pote's face until he heard the familiar grumble: "Andale...andale, carajo!"

James had remained outside talking to Suzie on the phone about being late and promising to sleep in her room as soon as he got back.

Pote walked in to see Lena's eyes open but groggy and almost ran to the bed.

"How are you feeling, Mija?" His voice was trembling with emotions as he squeezed her hand in his. 'Shall I call the doctor?"

Lena mumbled that she only wanted water and as Pote helped her drink from a plastic bottle he produced from somewhere, she lay back down exhausted.

"I feel like I can throw up...any second now…then it fades away." Lena was still affected by the sedative and spoke with effort.

"It's the sedative, Mija! It will pass!" Pote's voice sounded reassuring as he started telling her the 'excellent' prognosis the doctor had given.

"I'm not going to put my hopes up just yet, Papi…that I'll look like before…" Lena was saying just as James walked back in. Upon seeing him, she extended her arm groggily with a deep sigh "Tio!"

"Happy you're awake, Hon!" James squeezed her hand and sat down.

"You two been smoking? I can smell it!" Lena looked at James, then turned her head and looked at Pote.

"Don't tell your mother!" Pote's voice sounded light, and James felt himself relax and breathe in with ease.

"How's Bucky?" the girl asked, but before James could say anything she added: "I'm certain someone messed with him…just as Miguel said…that he was acting strange the day before…"

"Who's Miguel?" Pote asked.

"A friend." Lena's response was fast despite her grogginess. "He called the vet when Bucky…ahh…attacked me…he helped pull him away…" At the end of the sentence the girl was practically sobbing and Pote squeezed her hand while James kept repeating to leave the details for later.

A nurse showed up just then and after taking the situation in advised them 'not to tire the patient." Then she said the doctor on call would come to see her in the next hour.

They sat in silence for a few minutes as Lena composed herself to some degree.

Her mumble brought both men out of their thoughts: "Would the doctor be able to confirm the prognosis you got, Papi?"

"I don't know, Mija, if he would be taking off the bandages…or if he is a specialist…" Pote's voice trailed off as the girl said even more dejectedly: "If the first doctor was wrong…none of the guys would like me now…" and tears overflew her eyes.

The break in her voice made James touch her shoulder gently and say: "Guys?"

She closed her eyes slowly and said: "Miguel…he is very nice, and I enjoy his company a lot…but Marcus is the one I really care about…They both ride in the club!"

Pote grumbled and James flashed him a stern look as Lena added: "I know…you can judge me, Papi, but yeah…I'm seeing two guys…There! I said it! But if none of them wants me now, who cares!" and she started sobbing.

"Hey, hey, now!" James leaned over her and caressed the cheek that was not bandaged as his eyes kept flashing at Pote to keep him at bay.

"Why two guys, Hon? What's so special about this Marcus?" James spoke in a deep low voice as Pote flexed his fists. This is the voice he uses on women! It must take tons of control to make it sound so soothing, Cabron!

Lena exhaled and seemed more at ease as she opened her mouth and said with difficulty: "Marcus…he just joined the club last month. His family is loaded, but some of his friends are quite off…I mean weird and …ahh…use drugs….Miguel noticed and told me…Marcus is just so…hot…"

At that moment a tall man in white followed by the nurse walked in the room.

James stared at the ceiling in the dark until his daughter's breathing became even. Then he slipped out of the room and dialed Castel Fioto. This time she picked up after the first ring.

His fists started flexing just as Pote's had been in the hospital room when Castel told him that Marcus Moreno was a known associate of Bustamante's and Marcel's group was investigating him.

"What I would like to do, Castel, is to see if there's any option for this Bustamante to be turned!" James had said it out loud and took a deep breath of expectation.

"Why would we want that?" the suspicion in her voice was heavily pronounced.

"I guess I have to tell you the whole story!" James sighed and started walking down the stairs to get away from the bedroom floor.

In half an hour, after having hung up with Castel Fioto, he poured himself a bourbon and sat by the pool staring at the reflection of the moonlight on the still water.

He wondered what Pote's reaction would be to the news that they were going to Shanghai to make Wong an 'offer he could not refuse'. Only the thought that Castel Fioto was sending two agents as back up provided him with some comfort.