(This was written when I was about 16 or 17 years old (maybe younger!). I was very into the series "The Professionals" and very into the Aztecs, the Mayans, the Egyptians - the ancient ones, mind you. Arya became a sort of an alter-ego : her life was more exciting than mine mundane, ordinary schoolgirl's. And, of course, Cadrez was the dream one. *hic* This is of course, absolutely juvenile stuff! What triggered this sharing? The current craze among you peeps to 'don' (pardon the pun) exotic names. Been there, gals! So, to Dayah Alfonso, Hannah Roberto and Syafiqah I-can't-pronounce-that-name, this one's for you gals! ) Don't laugh so hard as you're reading, okay? *hic*
Cadrez looked down at the silent, small huddled figure of a boy. Cervantez looked at him, almost teasingly. Cadrez knew. Cervantez, his boss, was taunting him, challenging him to finish the job. It was not something he was afraid to do, nor had never done before. It’s just…the boy looked so young and so…vulnerable. He couldn’t put a finger to it. The boy was perhaps merely twelve, with short, dark, straight hair that fell carelessly around the face and eyes…the boy looked up briefly at the towering Cadrez, the expression of fleeting fear. And Cadrez’s own dark, smoky eyes gave a start – the boy’s eyes were of the clearest blue he had ever seen, and amidst the dark setting of his hair and tanned complexion, seemed bluer and swimming with lights. For a moment, Cadrez was mesmerized.
“ Don’t let those eyes get you, Cadrez! He put up such a fight that Sandov here is just waiting to get even – that is, if you won’t do it….”
Cadrez gritted his teeth. Sandov..the brute! Cadrez was tall for his age, and his neck-long, swept-back hair made his boyish face looked more matured, yet, he winced at the thought of the huge-sized Sandov even touching the boy. He had once been at the receiving end of those metallic-hard knuckles, bleeding profusely from the face, ribs smashed and only Cervantez’s intervention had saved him. That was five years ago, when he was about this boy’s age – famished, homeless and almost dying . He had attempted to pick pocket Cervantez, not knowing that this tall, well-dressed guy is one of police most-wanted don of the underworld. Of course, Sandoz hauled him and proceeded to clean up his face. He would have died – another statistics for the vagabonds on the streets. Yes, that was five years ago. Cervantez had took him in; fed him, clothed him and most of all mentored him, trusted him and he is now only second to Sandov in the eyes of Cervantez…..
Cervantez sighed.
“Finished the job Sandov.”
“No! I can do it.”
Cervantez smiled and gestured to Sandov to back away. Cadrez stooped down and pulled up the boy roughly by his left arm. The boy tried to struggle, but Cadrez pinned the boy’s left arm to his back. Positioning himself behind the small back, he pushed the boy down to his knees. It was like pushing air. The poor boy went down easily, grunting in pain as his knees smashed on the hard floor. Cadrez pushed the boy faced down as well, so that the boy’s left cheek was kissing the cool stone. He didn’t want to see the boy’s eyes. The boy groaned again. Cadrez bent down and straddled the boy’s back, trying hard not to put his full weight on the small back. He didn’t want to break the boy’s spine. He bent down and as he did that, he managed to whisper fiercely in the boy’s right ears,
“Don’t fight, boy! I will make this as painless as I can – I promise!”
When the boy was still trying to struggle, he whispered, almost desperately,
“Please…trust me!”
The boy somehow stopped struggling, letting out a stifled groan from the pressure on his pulled arm. Cradling the boy’s left arm in position in his own arms, Cadrez twisted the arm in one clean, powerful jerk. The small arm broke neatly at the elbow. The boy did not even let out a scream, but Cadrez could feel the body shaking and the boy stifling his voice. Cadrez knew the pain was excruciating. He had done this many times before but this was the first time there were no screams. He let go of the mangled arm, almost in shock. The boy slumped to the floor, letting his face fall into the cradle of his right arm, hiding his eyes. He was groaning softly, his eyes closed tightly in pain. His breathing grew softer and became almost inaudible. He had fainted.
“Call Rosa and tell her to fix my nephew.”
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“Why didn’t you tell me that’s your nephew????”
Cadrez almost screamed. At 17, he still has the boyish impetuousness in him. Cervantez coolly sat on his favourite sofa, puffing at his favourite cigar. Cadrez looked angrily at the man who had sheltered him all these years. What kind of a man would hurt his own blood???
“ I know what’s in your head right now, Cadrez!! Jose is the son of my only brother, Ricardo. We were as close as two peas….but something happened that changed things….changed me…we’re no more blood. Jose’s blood is legal to me!”
“He’s still a boy!!! What if I had not been around and Sandov did this job – he would be finished!!!”
Cerventez stood up slowly from his seat and walked measuredly up to Cadrez, his hand rested on Cadrez’s young shoulders.
“That is why I took you in, son.”
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Cadrez peered hesitatingly into the bedroom. Through the cracks, he saw Rosa, white hair neatly bunned up, her right hand inside the boy’s black jacket, adjusting a sling bandage. The boy’s back was facing Cadrez, so he could not see the boy’s expression. Rosa then made him sat back at the bed, and only then could Cadrez saw the side of the tanned face. It was a finely chiseled face, with high cheek-bones – the boy’s face was strangely, well, beautiful. Cadrez felt confusion for a while. What was he thinking???
Rosa looked up and saw him at the doorway. She beckoned angrily to Cadrez to step into the room. Cadrez hesitated – he knew better than not to accede to Rosa’s demands. Her temper was legendary. She was the only person in the household who could get angry at Cervantez without his boss pulling a gun at her forehead. He stepped gingerly, his tall frame guiltily filled the room. Her eyes looked fiercely up at him.
“Er….how is he???” Cadrez countered.
Rosa’s angry expression turned into one of pure outrage. She stood up and fiercely whispered,
“What do you mean, Cadrezo?”
“How’s the boy’s arm?”
Rosa unexpectedly let loose some Spanish expletives.
“Poveritas!!! The boy whose arm you had cruelly broke is a girl you dumb boy!!!”
As if on cue, the ‘boy’ opened up his eyes – blue eyes and dark eyes met for a while, it was the dark eyes that looked away first. Cadrez clearly saw the pain and – anger in those eyes.
“ I ….I am sorry…I truly…did not know…Oh my God!! Cervantez doesn’t know himself! He thought he had a nephew!!!”
“Fooled both of you…didn’t I….” the girl said quietly, her voice came in a soft whisper, punctuated by pauses..she was in pain, Cadrez knew it. She was looking at the wall. Then she turned to look at him and her eyes were fierce, though.
“If you tell Cervantez - I will kill you!”
“With a broken arm – I doubt so!” shot back Cadrez, challengingly.
Cadrez avoided the eyes that was boring into him. THOSE eyes can kill him….However, he had no doubts that her father would finish the job. He looked up.
“What’s your name….your real name…?”
“Does it matter to you?”
“I normally like to know the names of all those people whose arms got twisted by me! I’m the sadistic type!”
Cadrez stared and saw the girl smiling softly. God! She was beautiful.
“Arya. Arya Ricardo Gomez.”
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The two groups had gathered at the courtyard. The air was tense and terse. Cervantez looked coolly at the smartly-dressed guy standing opposite him. They were of about the same height, but the other guy was more slightly built. He has, however, the same curly hair that shone beautifully in the sun. They could have passed off as brothers.
“Ricardo. A pleasure to see you here. Welcome to my home. Mikasa, e sukasa.”
Ricardo grimaced.
“Where is my son?”
Cervantez still smiled. He motioned to one of his men. Cadrez looked ahead, but at the corner of his eyes, he saw Arya being led slowly into the courtyard. She looked paler than the day before and he watched, emotionless, at the bandaged right arm, which she wore in a sling. The big guy, Andre, pulled at Arya’s arm roughly and she winced. He, like the rest of them, must have thought that this boy was a trite too slow. Cadrez gritted his teeth at that thought.
Arya looked down as she reached her father. He whispered something in her left ear and she nodded. Her father pulled her gently to his back. His men reached out and surrounded Arya. She looked up and her blue eyes squarely hit Cadrez’s dark ones. Cervantez voice broke their stares.
“No hard feelings, right?”
Ricardo walked up to his brother.
“Why, Cervence, why? Look at that kid…look at those eyes!!! How could you have hurt him???”
Cadrez thought he sensed Cervantez relenting. Only for a fraction. Cervantez looked at Arya.
“Don’t open up old wounds, Ricky…it might backfire…”
“You took him away from me – for what?? Just to bring him back to me broken??? He is still your blood!”
“Like hell he is!!! When you took HER away from me, did you think of me, your blood – BROTHER??? Maybe I should take him again – permanently!!!”
Suddenly, Andre, as if by cue, signaled with his hands and almost instantaneously, a group of men surrounded Ricardo’s entourage. Ricardo wasn’t the only one caught by surprise. Cadrez was too.
“Take the boy Cadrezo!!!”
Without thinking, Cadrez ran towards Arya, who was already being shielded by Ricardo’s men. Shots were heard and almost everyone ducked, including Cervantez. Everybody was looking at each other, surprised. A voice, apparently from a loudhailer was heard distinctly,
“This is the police!! We have you covered!! Surrender now!!”
All hell broke loose. Shots ricocheted against the wall. Ricardo turned towards Arya and a stray bullet caught him squarely in the chest. The impact sent him backwards. He dropped to his knees but Arya was already by his side. His men was already surrounding him, trying to drag him to safety. He was losing too much blood. He fell in his steps, gasping. Arya was crying.
“Papa, get up!!! Papa!!!”
Cervantez, who had ran towards the inside of his house, saw his brother lay on the courtyard, his jacket bloodied, his face pale. He stopped, paused, swore, then make his way to his fallen brother.
“Come, bro…”
Ricardo was looking paler.
“Brother…I ….think…I cannot make it….please…my son…has nobody else….look after her for me…Arya….”
Cervantez frowned, looked at Ricardo, then at Arya, still not comprehending. Andre panted by Cervantez’s side.
“We have to go…to the basement - NOW! Now, Mr Cervantez!!!”
Arya was still kneeling over her dying father when Cadrez caught her, for the second time, roughly by the unhurt arm and just pulled her away. Cervantez was still trying to pull up Ricardo, but his brother looked at him with faraway, glassy eyes.
“…I…am..sorry….Marina…had …..a….daughter….don’t hurt her….you have…a good….soul…brother…”
And then, he just passed away, amidst the compounding sounds of bullets firing at each other aimlessly. The courtyard’s main door burst open. The last sight the police troops saw was a the shadow of a tall, long-haired figure firing at them as he disappeared into a hallway.
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Arya felt lonely, even though she was seated in between Cadrez and Andre. The black saloon cruised smoothly into the night sky, having left Cervantez’ mansion in a most unelegant way. Cervantez sat in the front passenger seat. She could only replay the scene of her father laying down in his own pool of blood – unable to help him. What had happened? Who had tipped the police? what was going to happen to her now?Where was her father’s men? Were they captured? Where was the man she called Uncle Domingo, an elderly, white haired man, trusted by her father? Too many questions, too few answers…without realizing it, a hot tear escaped her eyes and she quickly wiped it away with the back of her good hand.
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Arya must have dozed off, for she suddenly woked up, startled. She realized, rather embarrashedly, that she had fallen asleep while leaning against Cadrez’s shoulders. The saloon had braked very suddenly and very hard. Her eyes grew wider as she heard curses.
“Down! Stay Down! Put your head down!!!!”
Cadrez was shouting desperately at her, shoving her head down to the floor of the car. Instinctively, Arya covered her head and felt both Cadrez and Andre flying out of the car. Even Cervantez was no more in the car. Her heart froze as again shots boomed past her and the car and she heard somebody cursing in pain. Suddenly, she felt a hard hand tugging at her slinged arm and she just shouted out of pain. It was Cervantes. His arm curled heartlessly around her small frame, and the cold, hard nuzzle of an auto slammed at the side of her head. When he spoke, his voice was hard and low.
“ I will let her go only if you allow me and my men to leave – unharmed!”
Out of the darkness, Arya could make the silhouette of an elderly man, silver hair shining in the darkness of the night. Domingo! She wanted to run, but Cervantez’s hold was strong and unrelentless. Only then did she noticed Cadrez on Cervantez’ right, a dark, widening patch flowering on his right shoulder. He had been shot. Only then too did she noticed two, silent figure by the roadside. The driver and Andre. Cervantez must be a crazed man, by now. Uncle Domingo’s voice was slow and deliberate:
“You are outnumbered, Senor Cervantez….give her up and maybe we can discuss things!”
“Like hell you will!”
And suddenly, truly like a crazed man, Cervantez pointed his auto and it went off, hitting Arya squarely on her right thigh. She was too stunned to react and could only see herself, in slow-motion, staring at the flowering red patch. She would have crumpled to the ground had not Cervantez effortlessly propped her up. She suddenly felt dizzy. Why was Cadrez staring at her, his face still an unreadable mask.She wasn’t hurt badly right?! She also saw Uncle Domingo putting up his right arm quickly, cursing, signaling his men to bring down their guns.
“Okay! You have my word!”
Cervantez practically flung Arya into the car, motioned to Cadrez to sit behind too, then went behind the wheels of the black saloon, shouting:
“ Any wise moves – and she dies!!!”
Cervantez drove away even worst than a mad man. The car sped along the highway, Domingo’s men closely behind. When the distance was getting shorter, he shouted to Cadrez:
“Thr0w her!”
‘Are you mad?! She’ll be run over!”
With one arm at the wheel, Cervantez brought over his other arm towards Arya’s temple. The gun was still cold and menacing.
“If you don’t, I’ll rather she die with me!!!”
Arya could have struggled against Cadrez, but she didn’t want to. She couldn’t feel her bandaged arm, nor her right leg anymore. In fact, she felt a little airy head, rather like a floating feeling. It had not dawned on her that she was losing precious life blood. Her jeans were soaked with her own blood.
“At least stop, Cervantez!! Please!!!”
Perhaps it was Cadrez’s tone, or the pale face of Arya as he glanced at her from the back mirror – Cervantez slammed his brakes against the pavement and Cadrez, almost gently, pushed Arya into the pavement. As soon as she hit the cold stone, Cervantez sped off.
Arya, on her part, was thankful for being able to lie down. Her blue, clear eyes felt the throbbing of her arm, her legs, her heart, her life…Her head felt heavier, her breathing raspy and difficult. Slowly, the blue eyes dimmed and she closed her eyes, catching the glaring lights of Domingo’s car before she thankfully lost consciousness.
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