Bab 56: São Paulo
///Lost'sForward///
100 Power Stones = 1 Chapter
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"Please exit to the left." A robotic voice echoed through the airport.
Cain stood from his economic-class seat smack down in the center of the plane's rows. Over the duration of his flight, he spent over thirteen hours with an expiring corpse on one end, a chirpy latina on the other. Cain didn't sleep, he didn't rest, and he sure as hell didn't enjoy his flight.
Regardless, he finally touched down in South America. Brazil, to be precise — home to South America's leading economic power and last spotted location of Emilio Ricardo Rose, Cain's target.
Amidst his flight, and when not being harassed, Cain read the file he was given about the man.
Name — Emilio Ricardo Montoya de la Rosa, head of the Rose family and affiliates with Brazil's most notorious black market. His records go back twenty years, then they vanish. As if born at the age of twenty-two, Emilio appeared in Brazil's database abruptly after being arrested for drug possession. From there, a new filing every year: drug trafficking, extortion, kidnapping, battery and assault, murder — the list was extensive.
In every instance however, Emilio was never arrested. Throughout his trials oddities continued to appear: the presiding judge would fall ill before the hearing, the charges would be dropped, or Emilio would receive a slap on the wrist; he'd pay a fine and do community service.
It was obvious to the world and to Brazil that Emilio was bribing their officials, executing potential witnesses and working behind the scenes to ensure that his reign never collapsed; and thus far, it's worked.
'What's changed to require an assassination?' Cain mused.
Presumably, it was the Awakened and the Gate that came with them. Although united in name, the United Nations acts as a sort of global police that only ever steps in when absolutely necessary; meaning, the United Nations is a poster organization that rakes in funding with no material purpose.
Their newest resolution, however, creation of the organization G.U.A.R.D., tips this power scale towards the direction of the UN. While technically separate entities, G.U.A.R.D. is funded by the United Nations and typically the one who supplies funding is the one who makes the rules.
In essence, G.U.A.R.D. is recognized as a global police force with tangible authority — that authority is supposed to only extend to Awakened and their business, but if the number of Awakened continues to rise; at some point that will include the general population.
How does this relate to Rose Head Emilio?
Although speculation, Barber suspects that Emilio is working with the President of Brazil, among other foreign diplomats. In the folder Cain was given, various photos were filed of Emilio eating dinner with and socializing with foreign world leaders.
It was Cain's job to not only find evidence of Emilio's collusion, but to also silence the man along with his vast connections. In order to get to that step, however, Cain first needed to find the man.
He left the airport and entered Sao Paulo, the largest city in Brazil. He hailed a taxi and asked to be led towards a shadier part of town.
Cain said he was interested in purchasing drugs.
The taxi driver nodded without discrepancy and pressed on the gas.
The city of Sao Paulo was sleek and modern. Like any first world country, skyscrapers blurred the setting sun and bustling crowds paraded through the streets. The taxi drove along clean roads and passed cafes, parks, apartment complexes, and colleges alike.
After an hour of driving through the city though, the architecture changed. The pavement cracked and the ride became bumpy. The buildings slowly got smaller, abandoned vehicles started to appear, and crackies walked across the streets without any consideration for the cars speeding past them.
The taxi stopped in front of a club. Cain could tell it was a club due to the molded red carpet recklessly strewn in front of the building's double doors in addition to the two obscenely round bouncers that stood shoulder to shoulder guarding it.
As the taxi pulled to a complete stop, a man dressed in a white tuxedo stained with sweat opened the door. In addition to his warped appearance, Cain's heightened senses immediately diagnosed the man.
Cigars, liquor, and a very distinct smell of vomit paraded him. He held his hand forward to pull Cain from the taxi, but Cain dismissed it and jumped to his feet instead.
The moment Cain exited the vehicle the bouncers fixed their posture in alertness. Cain was tall. Very tall and South Americans weren't exactly known for their height.
The man in the white tuxedo leaped back skittishly.
Cain ignored him and approached the bouncers. His shoes stuck to the red carpet.
"Locals only." One of the bouncers pushed his arm in front of Cain's chest.
Cain halted and silence pervaded the scene.
Beads of sweat trickled down the bouncers thick necks. They looked at one another, hesitancy displayed in the open.
"Oh I'm sorry —" Cain stepped back, a casual demeanor unveiling, "I was told to meet my friend Manuel here? Do you know him?"
Cain memorized the entirety of Emilio's file, including the extensive list of names in relation to the Family Head. For example, Manuel Aguado — one of Emilio's distant cousins.
According to the report, Manuel and Emilio used to be close. They were arrested together, robbed liquor stores together, and for a brief period of time, Manuel was engaged to Emilio's younger sister — but that was over a decade ago.
Since then, a falling out occurred. Manuel was excommunicated from the Rose sub-families, but Emilio's sister refused to see him slain. So in a compromise between siblings, Manuel was granted mercy.
'Is this mercy?' Cain asked while staring at the rundown brick building. Graffiti coated the walls, a window was shattered, and the stench — otherworldly.
The bouncer's eyebrows rose at the mention of Manuel, they tried to hide it, but Cain noticed.
"You know Manuel?" The other bouncer grew the balls to speak.
"Of course I know Manuel!" Cain acted loud and rambunctious, "Manuel and I go waaaay back!"
The two bouncers looked at each other once more. One of their eyebrows rose in suspicion before the man forcefully caught it and maintained his poker face.
"Then why didn't he recognize you?" The bouncer asked.
"What?"
The bouncer pointed behind Cain.
"That's Manuel."
Cain followed the bouncer's finger, but what he saw at the end of it instantly crushed his spirits.
The bouncer was pointing towards the disheveled man in a white tuxedo. He was leaning against a street pole and his tan skin carried a tinge of green. The man looked sick.
Cain's shoulders slouched. His upbeat energy depleted in a matter of moments.
Cain rummaged through his mind, in search of the photo of Manuel provided in Emilio's file. The two men… were vaguely similar. The man in the white tuxedo had teardrop tattoos along his cheek, a rifle tattooed above his eyebrow, and old age was not kind to him — likely expedited by a lifetime of drug and alcohol abuse.
His eyes, however, which Cain had originally avoided due to the man's stench, were clearly the same as in the photos — you see, Manuel possessed central heterochromia.
Heterochromia is the diagnosis for people with two different colored eyes. Central heterochromia, on the other hand, is the rare alternative in which a single eye possesses different colors. Manuel, for example, had dark brown eyes, but in his left eye a splotch of green spread.
Cain sensed a quick movement behind him, but he allowed it to happen.
Suddenly, a steel wire wrapped around his neck and constricted. Cain's body was yanked backwards. He felt the distinctly bulbous stomach of the bouncer trying to strangle him.
Obviously, the steel wire couldn't penetrate Cain's skin, but the bouncers didn't know that.
Cain feigned ignorance and let his body go limp. He closed his eyes and collapsed to the ground like a forgotten marionette. Still, Cain controlled his breathing so that not even his chest would rise and fall.
"HEY!" The bouncer screamed to subdue Cain, but Cain was already on the ground.
"BRO!!"
"Hey man what happened!!"
"Did you kill him?!"
"What?! I barely even touched him!"
One of the bouncers nudged Cain's shoulder with his foot.
"Look fool! He's not even bleeding!"
"Then why'd he faint?!"
"I don't know!"
The bouncers paused. They each looked at Cain's unconscious body sprawled across the pavement. Then, one of the bouncers kicked Cain in the head.
"Fuck was that for fool?"
"He could be faking it!"
"Ah. That's what's up. Big thinker, I like that!"
The bouncers bumped fists and returned their attention to Cain. Cain had been incredibly suspicious from the start, even his appearance stood out like a sore thumb, but his relationship with Manuel?
The bouncers were 100% confident Cain was a rat.
With zipties, they tied Cain's wrists together then his ankles. Together, they propped Cain over one of the bouncer's shoulders where he dangled like a doll.
Instead of entering the club, the bouncer carried Cain to the back of the building. He slid Cain off his shoulder and let him drop to the asphalt.
*thud*
Cain hit the ground.
Meanwhile, the bouncer kneeled before a set of steel doors embedded in the parking lot behind the club. He knocked twice.
"What?" A muffled voice replied through the doors.
"I brought another rat." The bouncer said.
Without further adieu, Cain heard the sound of steel bars sliding in and out of place. Locks were undid and gates were opened. Beyond the bulkhead doors, the entrance to the club's basement stretched down a flight of stairs.
The bouncer dragged Cain across the pavement and tossed him to the man within the basement entry. From there, Cain was carried down the stairs into a pit of darkness.
As they traveled deeper, the air grew colder. Dust permeated Cain's lungs and an uncontrollable sensation rushed through him.
"Ah-choo!" Cain sneezed.
The man carrying him froze. He looked over his shoulder and Cain's smiling face was there to meet his gaze.
"Sorry about this."
Cain snapped the zip ties bound around his wrists and smacked the back of the man's neck. Immediately, the man's eyes rolled behind his head and his spine crumbled unto the ground. Like a slinky, the man tumbled down a few steps before his face smashed into the concrete wall — his mouth wide-open, drool leaked onto the steps.
Cain snapped his ankle zip ties and stretched his limbs, but he was too tall to stretch his arms above so he bent over and touched his toes instead.
*crack*
Then, he cracked his neck.
'Could have been cleaner.'
Cain eyed the drooling bumpkin a few steps below him.
'But that also means Barber's info is outdated.'
'How old did Manuel look?' Cain rubbed his chin.
'Ten years older?'
Cain dismissed the thought. He couldn't afford a headache right now. Instead, he summoned the |Jug of Mist| and immediately, an ivory gourd peanut-in-shape appeared in Cain's hands. Cain brought the gourd to his face.
He studied the red rope that laced around it and the black cloth that kept the jug closed. In addition to the rope, easily mistaken symbols wrapped around the neck of the gourd — the symbols were sloppy and crass, likely forged with vast amounts of anger.
'I guess I can see what this does.' Cain thought.
///LostNoteFound///
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