Ethan woke up early. He usually did, just out of years of habit, and the last couple of years of feeling halfway safe. The sun hadn't come up yet, so there was very little light shining into the room, since it was one floor above the top of the street lights. If it wasn't for the fact that Roberta didn't have any clothes there, she would have stayed the night, and he wouldn't have woke up alone.
Why did he feel so alone waking up like this, after just having someone there once?
He lay there for a few minutes before he got up. He rotated his shoulders, working the stiffness from them before he stood and cracked his back. Age was something that just didn't hold back. At least he hadn't found a way to. If it was so easy as threatening to put a hollow point between time's eyes, then he might be a little sprier. At least he might hurt less than he did.
He popped joints as he walked into the bathroom and started the shower. Once there was steam in the air he shucked his boxers and stepped in. The heat helped relax away the knots in his muscles that his mattress left. He probably needed to look into replacing it. Sweat from the humid heat that the city had most of the year rolled down his body as the hot water and soap crossed over his skin. He stayed there for almost thirty minutes, longer than he typically did. Thankfully Dutch had installed a gigantic hot water tank, probably at some threat from Revy.
He got out and combed his hair, preferring to try to get it halfway straight before he dried it. It was hit or miss if a culture considered long hair masculine or not. A lot of the cultures in Central and South America did, and he had kept on with it even after he had left. His hair wasn't quite as long as it had been before he cut it for the job in Dallas, but he tried to keep it somewhat neat.
Once he had dried off and combed his hair again, he left the bathroom. He wasn't looking forward to taking Hannah to his parents, in six hours. It was three in the morning, and they didn't leave until nine. He had some time to spend with her, or he could. There was something else he needed to do for her.
Only an hour later he found himself outside an apartment in a very swanky building. It had been way to easy for him to get this location, and the guards that should have given a little resistance, just waved him through when he asked about this person, and even made sure he know exactly which room, and gave him a spare key.
Pipsqueak hadn't made himself really popular among his new compatriots.
Drug cartels weren't well known for having the most loyal people working for them. The kind of people that worked for cartels were only as loyal as the money or their ambition took them. If they started to hate someone that was above them, there was always some way to keep your hands clean of their death.
Ethan opened the door. Strangely, the apartment wasn't that big. He saw two doors, probably a bathroom and a closet. There was a large bed centered under the window, past a rather unkempt living area and kitchenette that had obviously not been used in a while. There were empty booze bottles all over the place, and a rather fresh corpse belonging to a woman slumped over in one of the chairs.
She was naked, and there were a bunch of stab wounds on her stomach. He remembered Hannah had said something about Adira having been stabbed multiple times. He lightly touched the skin on the corpse's neck, and the flesh wasn't completely cold. He looked over at the bed to see Pipsqueak snoring, and black out drunk. He looked down at the corpses crotch, and wrinkled his nose at the souring fluids that were leaking from it.
What had happened to this man? He had always been a prick, but he hadn't been a worthless murderer. This was something new to him. It wouldn't matter in a just a little while. Nor would the bastard.
Ethan looked over the apartment, and saw a shoulder holster sitting on the bar. It was almost hidden by a stack of empty wine bottles. He stepped lightly, and realized that the floor was covered with an absolutely filthy shag carpet. Someone must have had to work, and there was a housekeepers uniform. Apparently she hadn't been doing a good enough job for him.
Ethan looked down at the grip of the weapon he saw. A rosewood grip panel with the initials CC inlaid in copper met his eyes. This was his pistol. He pulled the weapon and saw the gold damascene on the slide. Three gold bands ran along the trigger guard. He had never fired it, as he didn't want to cause any wear on it. He lightly pulled the slide back, and saw the wear scars that pistols picked up along the rails.
He took a deep breath. He wasn't going to feel bad about this. He could forgive Adira, but not him.
He pulled a chair around to face the bed. As he sat down he checked the chamber on the pistol. It had one in the pipe, and it was going to be head out of it very quickly. Thankfully the chair didn't have any apparent suspect fluids staining it.
"A bit of pig, aren't you," he said loudly.
The man in the bed shot up groggily. Even drunk a mercenary had certain instincts that you couldn't forget or train away. Habits were a different story.
"Who the fuck are you pendejo, where the fucks my gun," Pipsqueak yelled as he thrashed around looking for a weapon.
"Your gun, that must mean that you have another one, because this one sure as hell doesn't belong to you," Ethan held the pistol up.
The man's eyes started to clear up as adrenaline started to flush the haze that the booze put in his mind, "That gun belongs to me. Hand it over, and I might not make what I do to you painful."
"What the fuck could you ever do? Huh Cabrera," he let the weapon down in his lap.
"I don't... You are that cocksucker that was working security at that waste of time meeting. I don't know what the fuck you are doing here, but if you harm me, the entire Manisarera Cartel is going to be hunting for you."
Ethan smiled, "I doubt that. You are just another fucking sicario to them. Men like you don't have the temperament to be put in any position of real authority. The poor girl over there is proof of that. I figure they have you in charge of making people talk. Maybe shooting people in a pinch, but probably interrogation. You had a knack for it in the past."
"The past? Hombre, I don't know who you are, or who told you about what I may have done in the past, but you don't know who you are dealing with," the man started to get angry.
"The problem is, you aren't very smart. You never were. You just wanted to go through and try to live off the fact that your family used to have a name. That never impressed me. It never impressed her either," Ethan began tapping a finger on the slide of the weapon he was holding.
"Who. The. Fuck. Are. You. Talking. About. Slow enough for you? Then answer me, you hijo de puta," he yelled.
"Think about it Pipsqueak. This may help," Ethan pulled a picture from inside the trenchcoat he was wearing.
The man looked down at the picture. He saw thirteen red xs. Then he saw the two faces that weren't crossed out. It took a moment, but then he realized.
"Coffey. No, you can't be alive. The stories about Somalia. I recognized the way that they described the lead guy working, and him taking a bullet in the head," Pipsqueak looked up in fear.
"Daniel Santiago. He was an old comrade of the man that trained me. They served in the same unit in the Mexican army when they were young. I ran into him, and worked under him for a while. A sniper got him one day when he went to take a piss. Sad way to go, but sometimes that is how it works," Ethan sighed, he had liked the old man, but your bullet was always waiting for you.
"You, took her from me. What did you have to offer her? I had millions even then. I could have taken her anywhere in the world and given her an easy life."
Ethan took a deep breath, "Having a personality would have gone a long way. Instead, raped her, and stabbed her in the stomach, then you left her to die and be found by her eight year old daugther. My daughter. Do you know how fucking stupid it was for you to keep this gun?"
"Daughter, oh fuck me. She deserved it for choosing a pissant like you," Pipsqueak clenched his teeth as he realized why this had come around.
Ethan stood up and crossed the distance quickly to grab him buy the back of the neck. The grip he had on Pipsqueak's neck was like a spring loaded clamp. He drug him to a balcony door he hadn't noticed behind a curtain when he entered. He pulled him out onto the small balcony and threw him against the railing.
"I would have never thought of you again. I would have never cared. I loved Adira, and loosing her turned me into a beast. I gave up being Caleb Coffey. I rarely kept the same name for any job. I gave up who I was, because I thought, that Caleb Coffey didn't exist without Adira Cantor in his life. Well guess fucking what, you took any chance of me ever having her again. Have a nice fall," he pulled the trigger.
The gunshot shattered the silence that was still holding the weird time of the morning hostage. Pipsqueak felt a little lightheaded, and lost the ability to stand up. He started falling backwards, and kept falling. It was strange to him as the lights darkened more, and he realized that he was headed for the top of a Mercedes.
A few minutes later Ethan stood among the crowd looking at the corpse. He hadn't paid attention, but Pipsqueak had been as naked as the woman he had murdered. Apparently his height wasn't the only thing that made that name appropriate. At least there was one less serial killer in the city to make the women fear.
The cab of the truck was full as it bounced over the still poorly maintained roads. Ethan thought that he might have to break down and put shocks on the truck, though the sight of the woman sitting in the passenger seat was making him think it wasn't that big of a hurry.
"You're really pretty," he heard Hannah say to Roberta.
It took her a little off guard, but she still smiled,"Gracias. I don't spend that much time looking at myself in the mirror, so I don't realize it very often."
Ethan smiled as well. If things ever changed, Roberta might be just the answer to what Adira had wanted of him. At least Hannah hadn't called her a slut within a few minutes of meeting her like she had most of the other women she had met. Though to be honest, she had called Balalaika terrifying. He could understand where his daughter was coming from on that.
"Are you Daddy's girlfriend?"
Ethan looked over to meet the Latina woman's eyes. They still hadn't decided what it was they really had given their lifestyles. Simply, yeah that would be the easiest way to put it, but it wasn't quite true though.
"I'm something like that. I do care for him very much. I believe he feels the same for me," she raised an eyebrow in question.
"I don't think the response that would be the best, is appropriate in front of a child. I'll save that for later. Hannah, I, I uh, nevermind," he wasn't even sure what he was about to say.
"Daddy needs someone to keep him from doing stupid things. Mommy always said that he wasn't great at thinking about things before he did them," that one was personal.
One time, he had decided that instead of waiting for the target to just come home, he would crash a tractor into his limousine, and Adira was still getting at him over that from beyond the grave.
"Your Mami sounded like she was aware of exactly who he was. I will do my best while I am with him," Roberta smiled at Hannah again as they laughed.
Ethan's breath hitched. The sight of the two was, perfect. He couldn't think of anything more perfect in the world, than the two of them laughing together. It was getting harder and harder for him to let Hannah, especially with sights like this.
A tear rolled down his cheek, thankfully on the other side of his face from them. He didn't have a choice. It would have been selfish, stupid, and dangerous for him to try to raise her in Roanapur. His life was there, but she had a chance to build one where she was safe, and with people he, at least hoped, could trust. People that could give her a life of sheer luxury that she would never get in that cesspit.
"You never know what may happen in the future. One day he may come to live with you, I may be there too," that wasn't something that pleased him to hear Roberta say.
It wasn't that he didn't wish that was how it could be. He just wasn't sure if it was right to give the child a dream that could never come true.
"Rosarita," he said, hoping that Hannah wouldn't pick up on it.
The girl's head drooped, "Daddy doesn't live a life where he could."
The cheap vinyl of the steering wheel creaked as he gripped it. Hannah was really too smart for her own good, and he somehow knew that it was going to give her a lifetime of pain and heartache.
The rest of the trip was quiet. It was also rather depressed with the words the girl had said. Eventually they pulled up the airstrip. It was closer than the larger international airport that served the area of the country. It had been in use by the US and a few other nations that worked with Thailand through to the early eighties. After that they had moved those operations to a proper airbase. Now it was mainly used by the private planes of the gang leaders of Roanapur.
There were a few C130s that had finished loading and were waiting to taxi and take off. It was amazing that his father had achieved this kind of logistic capacity. He had made it sound like it was nowhere near as impressive.
They pulled up next to a smaller Leerjet that was in the process of refueling. It was still a fairly large plane, and probably belonged to his father's company, rather than to him personally. His parents were standing next to the stairs leading into the cabin.
"Caleb, I wish you would change your mind," his mother walked over and took him in a tight hug when he got out of the truck.
He sighed and returned the hug, "Mom, you already know why I can't. Please don't make it harder on me."
The woman pulled back and nodded, moisture in the corner of her eyes, "You're right. I'm sorry. I, just, I really want to have my son again."
"I know," he said.
"Oh, uh, who is, this, striking figure of a woman," Delilah turned her attention to Roberta.
"Oh, uh, I see flattery is a family trait. I am," she paused as she tried to figure out the best way to introduce herself, "Rosarita Cisneros. My Young Master and fellow maids call me Roberta though."
"A maid? I, don't know if you quite understand who my son is," she said as Robert stepped up next to her.
"Delilah, she, really knows. I'll, I'll tell you later. Why don't we go talk to her over here while, Caleb, does what he needs to. Please Ms. Cisneros, would you like a drink," he offered.
Roberta looked over at him, and he nodded, "Si, Senor Coffey. I would love one."
The three of them left Ethan and Hannah standing next to the truck. He wasn't sure if he could do it anymore, but it didn't matter. This was the point of no return. If he wasn't going to do it, he would have never gotten her in that truck.
He reached behind the seat , and pulled a small wrapped package out, "Hannah, I have something for you."
He knelt down as she turned to him, "Daddy?"
He gingerly unwrapped the same pistol he had used to kill the man that murdered her mother, "Do you recognize this?"
"Mommy's pistol. Where did you find it," her eyes lit up.
"The man who hurt her, he had it. He was someone that we had known years ago. Someone that was infatuated with her. He won't hurt anyone else anymore. There is always a price to be paid for actions you remember that. If you do good things, good things are more likely to come to you, but if you do wrong, it will always come back to you eventually. Always be a good girl, because I don't know that I could handle it if your grandparents ever told me something had come back around to you. Ok," he wasn't hiding the tears this time.
"Daddy, don't cry," tears were starting to roll down her cheeks as well.
"Kinda hard not to in this situation. I don't want you to go, but you understand why though."
"You, want me to be safe. I, don't want to go Daddy, I want to stay here with you," Hannah through her arms around him.
Just a few weeks ago, he hadn't even know she existed. Now she was the most important thing in his life. She didn't belong in his life though. Not in the gutter he lived in.
"I'll try to call you as often as I can. I'm not going to forget about you. I don't know when I will see you again, but I plan to. Come the hottest fires of Hell, I will see you again. Be good for your grandparents. Give your Aunt Jennifer a big hug from me when you meet her," he squeezed her as firm as he could without hurting her.
He finally stood up and led her onto the plane with his family. Twenty minutes later him and Roberta watched as the plane took off headed towards Korea. Tears still rolled down the man's face, as Roberta held onto him tightly without saying anything. Even never having had a child of her own, she understood that here was nothing as painful as giving up a child to a parent.