Survival is Crucial

Smile Boyo

A sloppily put-together Hispanic man sat down on a rundown couch, throwing his arm across the backrest as he stared up at a ceiling, looking as if rotting at the seams. "¿Qué diablos quieres, Marshall?" He asked, throwing one leg over the other as he took a drag of a cigarette he had on his person at the time. Marshall sat down on a cleaner, more well-put-together seat across from the Hispanic man, putting a small piece of cloth on the seat, which looked to have small bits of mold on it.

"Nice to see you too, Saul." Nixon stayed standing, making an uncomfortable expression, as if in pain.

"¿Qué está haciendo tu amigo?" Saul asked, motioning to Nixon.

"He's essentially asking why you're standing." Nixon clicked his tongue, sitting down on a chair next to Marshall. "You're injured, you shouldn't stress yourself," Marshall turned back around to look at Saul, "Nos gustaría que nos trajeras a Colombia."

Saul pressed his lips together, sighing, "¿Por qué debería?"

"What are you guys talking about?" Nixon asked, butting into their conversation.

Marshall turned to Nixon, "We're talking about getting transportation to Colombia."

"Alright..."

"Podríamos honrarlo con servicios gratuitos." Marshall continued.

Saul screwed up his nose, "Mierda, ¿por qué deberíamos necesitar sus servicios? Lo hacemos bien por nuestra cuenta."

"We're better than you, that's why."

"No cuando un arma apunta a tu cabeza en todas direcciones, gilipollas, tienes suerte de ser mi amigo, gilipollas, gilipollas, gilipollas." Saul began clicking his tongue rhythmically, tapping his index finger on he couch he was sat on.

"También te pagaremos bastante."

"Give me one mil," Saul put one finger up, "O sal," Saul paused, "¿Por qué quieres ir a Colombia en primer lugar?"

"Entonces podemos conducir hasta Brasil."

"De acuerdo... entonces, ¿por qué quieres ir a Brasil?"

Marshall pointed to Nixon, "He's why."

"Something is Brasil?"

"A way to get this guy out of a shitty situation, yes."

"¿Puedo tener más contexto?"

"No."

"Now... why is that Marshall?"

"You know, if you press further, something bad will happen."

Saul clicked his tongue, "Haré tu maldito viaje. Prick."

"Thank you." Marshall's hands clasped together, "You'll get your money in a week, can we leave for Colombia now?"

"¡Maldita sea! ¡Tan jodidamente temprano!" Saul shouted then sighed, "Sea lo que sea, no soy de los que esperan."

"Great, let's go." Marshall stood up, slapping Nixon on the back, "We're going now."

"Huh!?" Nixon clicked his tongue, standing up from the chair as they all made their way outside the building and into a car. "So... where are we going?"

Saul spun around in his seat to look at Nixon, who just started entering the backseat, "We'll be takin' a cruise ship, though we'll all be the only ones on it."

They sat in silence for a moment, "I thought you could barely speak English."

Saul couldn't help but chuckle as he spun back around, hands on the wheel, "Vamos."

It was an hour's drive, but they had finally made it onto the cruise ship, though it was slightly smaller than a normal one, it was a cruise ship nonetheless. "How the hell..." Marshall waved his hand as the words escaped Nixon's mouth.

"Don't ask why this was possible, I'm serious."

"Yeah... okay."

"Will there be other people on the cruise ship?" Marshall asked Saul, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves.

Saul sighed, "Sí, there should be."

Marshall exhaled sharply, furrowing his brow, "Alright... how long will the wait be?"

"What do you mean?"

"How long will it take for the cruise ship to set sail."

Saul thought to himself for a moment, "It should take a couple of hours."

"I'll have some of my men board as well."

Saul turned around in his seat, pointing to the back window showing a variety of cars parking behind them, "Aren't those yours?"

"Yeah, but it never hurt to have more."

"Alright..." Saul paused, "Why do you need so many guards? Is it for that kid, really?"

"Yes, he's a very useful asset for dragging someone out."

Saul felt the bottom of his teeth with his tongue before refocusing back on Marshall, "Alright, we'll wait, how long do you think it'll take?"

"An hour, so half the time we'd need to wait."

"Bien."

The smell of iron had begun permeating his nose - first, he checked his body to see if his wounds re-opened, no... that wasn't where the smell was coming from. He got out of the car and started checking the area, soon after, Marshall had noticed as well, then Saul followed. They all got out of the car, looking to find the source of the smell, soon, three became four, then it continued to stack. Everyone at this point was looking for the source of the smell.

Appearing from inside a thicket of trees near the cruise ship, a man stained in blood, head to toe. Maxim, the man from the hospital, spitting out a glob of blood from his mouth as he smeared some more across his mouth. "I wanted to... nevermind," He shook his head, "I had to take care of some... pests."

Marshall made an uncomfortable expression before speaking, "Who are you?"

"My name doesn't really matter here so... how will we go about this?

"That depends if you're an enemy or not."

"Don't worry, I'm not." Maxim put his hands in the air, facing his palms towards Marshall, "See?"

"Restrain him and investigate the forest." One of two guards goes to restrain him, bringing Maxim to the ground while another guard grabbed the rope, the other guard went into the forest to investigate, another guard following behind them.

"Oh?" Maxim was intrigued as they tightly wrapped both his arms together with his feet, making him completely immobile. "You really are professionals."

"Who is that guy?" Nixon asked.

"You think I know?" Marshal sighed, "Who are you anyway?" Marshall asked Maxim once again, hands in his pockets.

"That isn't any of your business," Maxim chuckled, "So... what now?"

"We'll leave you here, that's what."

"Hm...? Alright."