Alemão
I was at the airport, disguised with a cap and one of those vests that people use to help with the luggage. The Lieutenant was with me because the Captain had been clear: no attracting attention. We wanted to confirm, with our own eyes, that this Júnior was indeed arriving in Brazil. The information from the detective and the Captain's contact already pointed to that, but I needed to be sure.
We stayed there for over an hour, attentive to the flow of people. When I finally saw the man, my blood boiled with anger. He was pulling a suitcase and walking alongside an older gentleman. To anyone else, they seemed just like father and son, but I knew exactly the kind of relationship they had. It was disgusting; they were lovers.
I was about to take a step toward him when the Lieutenant
