The plan.
Twenty five years ago, My family was murdered while I hid in a trap door basement.
I remember it like it was yesterday.
At a suburban area of New Mexico. We surrounded the dining table, my dad, mum and brother Miguel. We had just recited the lords prayer, we were having my favorite, salsa and guacamole. When we heard the first gun shot from a distance.
We froze.
“Sssh” dad said placing an index finger over his mouth. “Take them to the trap door basement” he instructed my mother. A light whisper as he gets up to retrieve his rifle from beneath the kitchen sink. Miguel starts to cry.
“It’s okay baby” she cradles him and grabs my hand. She’s in a hurry, I follow beside her hand in hand almost tripping.
Mom gets to the leaving room, gets down on her knees, beside the couch and asks me to help as she pushes it aside. I am only eight.
Another gun shot, this time closer. Miguel is shouting now. My whole body shaking, I feel a liquid trail down my pants, I don’t move.
“Manuel!!!” I notice she has gotten the couch to move and had just opened a trap door which I never knew we had. “Get in Manuel, quickly!!!” she drags me In and when we reach the last step she hands Miguel over to me. She hugs us. I am crying now. The basement smells stale. A smell I will remember for the rest of my life. A smell that would hunt me.
“Here take this” she places a small envelope in my hand. “ this is for you two”
She’s shaking.
“Please stop crying, you boys stay here. We would be back, do not leave this place till we are. No matter what you hear, be brave you two.”
“I am scared mom” I hear Miguel say. I take Miguel in my arms. We are both holding on to each other.
She squeezes us in her arms. “Remember
Eres querid” you are cherished.
We watch her climb the fleet of stairs . I catch a glimpse of her making a sign of the cross before closing the trap door above us. It was so fast I think I imagined it.
“Mum!!” I yell.
Right there in that basement, I discovered new emotions. we heard footsteps, screaming, gunshots, male voices, my father’s voice, more gun shots, then my mother’s scream. I held on to Miguel, my hand over his mouth. I felt his Tears in my hand. I felt my heart pounding. I wanted to vomit.
Then finally silence. We stood there for about eight hours. Waiting. Nothing.
We hear footsteps again. People trooping in. In about five minutes the trap door is broken open.
“Police!!, put your hands where I can see them”
Walking out of what used to be our home guided by the cop, Miguel on his arms. Mama, papa. Was what he kept chanting, his face buried in the nape of the cops neck. We were told to close our eyes. I couldn’t close mine, I was searching for my parents silently reciting the Lord’s Prayer. Just as we’re about to step into the patio. I see my father, covered in blood. Several bullets to his chest, still clinging to his rifle”
“Papaaaaaaaa!!!”
We later learn that it was my mother who had told them we were in the basement, she had taken her last breath in the hospital, bullet to her head, damage to her face. She didn’t make it.
Present day
I am Sitting across the table from Mr Delmont in the board room of his office. I smirk. Look at him, grey hair, wrinkles, pot bellied. Greedy, God forsaken bastard. I knew of course he wouldn’t be able to resist my offer.
“I’ll buy 49% of your company at twice its market valuation, inject an additional $5 billion in funding, and let you maintain full control as CEO. You won’t have to invest a single cent more. All you have to do is enjoy the profits.”
He narrows his eyes and leans in.
“Sir I don’t think this is a-“ he raises his hand silencing the lady seated next to him. Good I would have also liked for her to shut the hell up anyway.
“I hope you know who you are dealing with here, when I saw your proposal stating you wanted to work with me, I was honestly taken by surprise, a young man of your caliber and thriving company, what more could you want, but I suppose I understand. The money, it’s never enough, you and I might actually have a lot in common” he chuckles.
I don’t.
“Anyway it’s a done deal Mr Donald peyer”
I smile. “ you are a wise man, sir. I like you already. You won’t be disappointed I promise” I motion for my lawyer to hand over paper work to him. I watch him sign. Excitement radiating from him to the horror of the lady beside him.
“You just made me a very rich man, Donald. If I may”
“Ah, you can’t even imagine sir, really happy to be a partner in this fine establishment, cheers to more business deals”
I stand up, give him a firm handshake and leave. My lawyer would handle the rest.
It is done. I text my brother.
It was in the dark cubicle I had built inside my mansion we conceived the plan.
“It won’t work Donald, this is taking too long, if I could just have my way I would shove a bullet to his f*****g face and all this would be behind us”
Donald
That was the name on my ID now. we had changed our name after fleeing Mexico.
I watched my brother, arms crossed leaning against the table in front of me, the light from the ceiling illuminating my mom and dad’s name’s boldly written across his chest. Dragon tattoo on his left arm. Huge body build, muscular. Bigger than me even.
“Come on brother, I know you are very much capable of all that, but we have to be logical. I haven’t spent all this years and hard work acquiring all this fortune just for him to just die quickly, I want him to suffer, I want him to loose everything. I want him to watch everything he has built and everything he loves the most crumble before his eyes, you need to trust me”
“I trust you bro, but if I notice the slightest slip up. If this doesn’t work out we are doing this my way.”
I had always been the strategic one, Miguel now mike had always been the one to jump in without thinking, now part of a mafia, thirsty for revenge. My wealth and influence had been able to keep him out of any serious trouble. I being the oldest took it as my responsibility to protect him.
One thing was for sure I had to act fast. Things were slowly falling in place, it almost looked to easy. Now to the next phase, he wouldn’t see it coming. I smiled sheepishly.