Hunt Down Rose

Chapter 7: Day Break (Part XI)

Spending a few more minutes drinking whiskey, the flow of customers could be compared to a department store. The card games are famous, with a door on the left side of where I’m sitting at having most of the activity and noise. Noticing that there are two men blocking the entrance, you’ll have to show some status in order to enter. Their standards are harmoniously inclined to money with me on the other hand, unfit to even hold a card and a poker chip due to the case I’m holding.

Then the bartender passed near me holding a few mugs “Have you seen anyone wearing a belt with a skull on it?” I asked pouring some whiskey on my glass adding a few cubes of ice.

Looking at his movements, he’s just calm wiping some of the glasses and mugs over the counter using his apron. It’s as if my words are passing over his ears pretending he didn’t hear a thing.

He looked at me scanning my appearance “What business do you have with him?” He asked.

“I’ve been informed that this is where he is often seen, a gambler having a skulled belt to be accurate.”

“A delinquent brat if you would add.” Frankly speaking in front of me as the rest of the crowd heard his words - they paused for a moment looking at us.

Having my knives ready, I can sense the radiating curiosity from the surroundings. Any form of activity could lead me to a disaster just as I was about to lunge towards the group of eyes approaching my location. The bartender butted in to appease the crowd, having the rest of the folks back off.

“I didn’t mean you niño. It’s the guy you are referring to.” He replied placing all of the clean mugs into the cupboard. I wasn’t even able to complete my thought as the rest continued on with their own business, having their focus back on their games.

“So he’s a regular here?”

“A regular trouble maker. That punk always gets in my blood,” He replied with his tone rather condescending.

“Why is that?” I asked in curiosity, knowing that both descriptions from Jose and this bartender are indeed true, he should be here any moment on the tables waiting for another game to proceed.

Suddenly the sound of glass shattering could be heard on the other side of that guarded chamber. Some women could be heard screaming in irritation and surprise, it’s only usual for misunderstandings to occur but the way it sounds is farfetched and uncommon to my ears.

The guards entered the place to check the source of the ruckus. After a few seconds, you could hear the tables flipping and the floor thumping. Surprisingly they pulled someone out of the chamber with his head somehow covered in blood, dragging him out. The spectators opened the door and helped the guards sack the man out onto the streets wounded.

The bartender pointed his finger on the door and said.

“That would be the person you are after.”

From what he explained in a few conversations - he in fact does have a background worthy of his description. I didn’t know being a Cortez could be this painful in his own perspective. I could’ve taken him captive in order to have him talk, and by doing so I never should’ve spent my time waiting for him. Jose gave me an informant who really does deserve some deliberation on his ways whenever possible.

Pulling a few dollars on my pocket, “Thanks for the drink.” I said to the bartender as I immediately left the place to chase after our little wounded friend.

Going outside the bar, I directly saw him not far from the place where he landed, with a lot of people looking at his damn bleeding head - he must’ve been smashed by one of the bottles inside the place. No wonder for someone like him, having enemies in just a short span of your life, the worst possible scenario would be dealing all of those people with money as the only reason for the conflict. He’s brushing some dirt on his shoulders, walking perfectly on the street wiping the blood off of his head using a piece of cloth from his pocket. Noticing that his movements are a little sluggish due to the blood loss, it won’t be long before he finds a place to rest.

I started following him around with his routes leading towards the outskirts of town. Later on, he walked at the center of the plaza where a gathering seems to be occurring right now. Situated on a stage, we have some officials, politicians and a few representatives from the U.N. with their patches signifying the logo, giving me a clue on what agency they work for. They seem to be informing the civilians with the current status of the city, with some of this country’s best local news operators, the rest of the world should be aware of this happening.

Scanning the plaza, he sat down on a nearby bench and started to pull his shoulders, which in my opinion has a chance of being dislocated on its joint. The landing that he received when they threw him out of the bar must be strong enough to break some of his bones.

I approached him taking my chances to know if he is the one Jose is referring to.

Then I showed him the piece of paper that I acquired.

He looked at me bothered by it. “What the heck is this about?”

 I placed the paper back into my pocket. “You know what this paper means don’t you?”

“So what if I do you punk? As if that you can get anything from me.” He replied being irrational on my questions.

“I will be direct since you’re in a poor physical state.” Knowing that it is odd that he went to the plaza just to sit around doing nothing while his body can no longer take the amount of liquid it has lost within a short time, he didn’t come here just to look around watching this so called live news feed with the rest of the crowd.

“You need money right now do you?” I said to him looking at how bad the wound is on his head. It’s just a minor graze but if left untreated, you’ll get yourself some serious infection worth the ignorance.

For a former mercenary, living is the same as dying with one leg burrowed on your own grave, everything is placed on the line whether your mission is successful or not. Reputation is futile - the importance of surviving surpasses even the conscience of the human mind. 

“Don’t treat me like a piece of crap! You’re no different from those losers that keep messing with me. I rather die than let myself be a pawn of someone else.” With his answers convincing enough that he doesn’t want to cooperate well, I have no choice but to use some of my options.

I pulled a folded envelope inside my pocket containing three thousand dollars in cash and placed it on the bench near him.

“In return I would like you to listen to me. Is that cool?”

For a moment he stared at the envelope. “What do you want with me?”

“I would like to ask you a few questions on what this paper means.” I asked showing him the piece of paper once again.

“This was given to me by a man named Jose – If I’m not mistaken he wanted me to show this to you.” I added

He paused for a moment as he took the paper out of my hand and started reading its contents amidst the obstructed vision that he has due to his wound.

“These are bank codes, my bank codes to be exact. Anyways, how did this Jose guy get this?”

“It’s a long story. However what I would like to know is if you are willing to help me. The only thing that you have to do is to give me some information - in return I’ll give you money.”

He started laughing “You could take this trash away from me! My information is worth more than what you can think –“

“I’ll triple the pay or even more than that depending on the accuracy of what you’ll give me.” I said to him cutting his line just to impose that I am serious with what I’m saying.

“Ok first of all my words are accurate, second I can’t even tell if I can trust you. You must be desperate enough to have what I know.”

“Does it matter? You’ll get what you need and have a life much more than being inside of that forsaken bar getting trashed around like dirt. Besides being desperate, I have the capacity to pay you continuously given that we have a deal.”

I went closer to him and told him right at his face, “but if you do decide to bamboozle me, expect worst consequences to come.”

“Don’t take my situation for granted just because I need it. It’s a different story if I add someone else’s ideas.”

“I’m just saying – If you are cautious, so am I.”

For a minute, he thought deeply with my proposal with him not having too much time to think due to his wound. It’s only logical for him to deduce the possibilities of a certain outbreak if something goes wrong and I’m the one responsible for it. He’ll be taking a part of that since he’s the one who gave me the data in the first place, even Jose would be put to danger with that.

“But before you agree to this, I would like to know the reason why my friend has access to your bank codes.”

“This crap you say?”

“Yes”

He looked at the paper, reading each digit from it.

“Obviously, this guy must be one of my father’s men inside the trades.”

From his answer, this proves that he is one of Cortez’s children. Assuming that he is Arcadius himself, it should be apparent that he is living a good and wealthy life considering the status of the Cortez investment group here in Madrid. But in reality, he is quite the opposite of that. Thinking about the reason why he’s living like hell, I can no longer consider any explanation except rebellion to his father. These assumptions of mine are still off the scale though. I can’t rationally prove it just yet, neither could I trust this paper given to me along with its recipient. If Jose really is someone’s puppy, I’ll know it in the next few hours of my stay here.

“Father’s men? You mean you are the son of the Cortez himself?”

“Indeed.” He seems to be bold and proud of being one. But from the way he speaks there must be a catch to all of those words that are coming out of his mouth.

Usually when it comes to such business – it’s always a must to prevent such information to get leaked to prevent any problems to exist. With such a person around, no wonder he’s getting bruised wherever he goes around the city.

“Is that the reason why almost all of these people hate you?”

“Nahh, they just hate me for causing trouble, probably because they don't know I’m a Cortez.”

“So only a few people know this?”

“You could say that. I only told you this since I’m getting paid with real cash. If you want more, you know what to do to get my attention don’t you agree?”

“For someone who’s badly wounded, you have guts.”

“Speaking of wounds, I better have my head patched up later – my vision’s getting fuzzy like hell.”

In his current state, he should have gotten himself admitted to the hospital earlier when he had the chance. Instead he continued to come to this place to sit down and let the other people notice a bloody guy sitting on this wooden bench.

“Meet me tomorrow at 9 in the morning, in the restaurant in front of the bar where they sacked you.”

“Oh you mean that place? Sure I will. Don’t you dare not show up!”

Now that I have his interest, this would be the best opportunity for me to start getting some things in place.

“Now use that money to get to a hospital, I know where you are situated in this city. If you runaway I’ll just have to drag your ass here for some whipping – You understand?”

“That should be my line.” He replied getting himself up of that bench while pressing his head to wipe some of the blood covering his eyelids.

From that moment on we parted ways, him going on the nearest clinic while I went back to the restaurant we’re supposed to meet tomorrow to enjoy some food. Bearing in mind the amount of trouble I have to just to get this guy around, it should be worth the wait, getting my claws on the real deal is fascinatingly awesome. Things are being held up high on both teams just to get this case on the hook. At least that’s what I think right now, with the current status of the NBI handling this case - it’s already at the brink of closure without any solidified evidences to support our claim. The funds weren’t the problem this time, since it’s easy to fill some of the empty spaces - something seems to be stopping the flow of everything that we’ve been doing in the past few days or even before Yun’s death. Not even a thousand miles would be enough to decrease the threat level on both countries. I’ve done some of my notes throughout this day, what I need now is to concentrate on whatever it is that Cortez guy would be throwing at me tomorrow. I better enjoy the meals while I still can, for it would surely be a warzone in this place. This is my form of work after all.   

(To Be Continued)