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Post by Deleted on Jun 22, 2017 21:50:26 GMT -5
Chapter 2.0 Project: Alejandro A Kei Hideshima Excerpt
/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / 20 June 2017 The heart monitor beeped slowly, a sound signaling life, but not of consciousness. It was quiet in the room, just as if it were truly a hospital, and on the other side of the door, there were nurses and doctors helping serve patients, to bring them back to full health. Sadly, though, it was not a hospital, and there were no doctors to save anyone here. There were no windows to let in light. There were no fluorescent lights overhead to make sure the room was the brightest it could be. And there certainly were no nurses’ assistants running around, helping with the laundry or serving patients meals. It was quiet, but that was because there was no true signs of life, other than that monitor, beeping continuously as it had for the last month. Alejandro Cortez laid on a twin-sized mattress placed haphazardly on a metal frame with an old brass headboard. Despite the lack of true luxury, he appeared to be comfortable, though dressed now in a hospital gown rather than the clothing he wore when he went missing no less than fifty days ago, having been picked up and taken in the middle of the day. Besides the monitoring device sitting in the front of his gown, and the intravenous device in his arm, he didn’t appear to be unhealthy. Sitting in a chair by the door, a man was supposed to be watching the imprisoned Alejandro, but he’d long since grown bored with his assignment. He had no idea why the kid was here, and he knew better than to ask. But it’d been days since the shateigashira had shown up to check on the kid. So, for the moment, like every good Japanese man, he had his phone out and was dilligently plodding away at capturing food for his Magikarp in . . . Pokemon Magikarp Jump. Yeah, that’s a gold one, motherfuckas. But today was not like every other day in the past fifty some days. Too engrossed in the collection of food, the man didn’t even hear the chorus of footsteps than rang high above him as they quickly thumped down the steps. He didn’t hear them as they crossed the cement floor. And he was horribly unaware of them even as the door swung open precariously. And all of a sudden, he was all too aware of the arrival of his boss when he saw the military-grade, steel-tipped boots that Kei Hideshima wore literally almost to everything he did. “Anata wa nanishiteruno?!” Kei snapped, bringing his open hand upon the back of his peon’s head sharply. For Kei to utter “what the fuck” in the tone he did meant that things weren’t going his way. Despite his calm demeanor when issuing threats, and ordering his peons around, the man was a walking time bomb waiting to happen, and when it did, it would end up being a nuclear winter for all those involved with him. He reached for the phone, tossing it hard against the wall and shattering the screen. The man looked almost to be in tears as he stared at the little, broken device. “Okurete iru. I don’t pay you to play fuckin’ Pokemon.” “Won’t happen again, shateigashira.” The man apologized, all the while hoping at that all the pictures of his little girls could still be pulled off of the phone. He would retrieve it later, after his boss was out of the room. He stood at attention then, watching Kei walk forward and cross his arms as he looked at Alejandro. “Oyabun.” “Na-nani?” “Oyabun,” Kei repeated, looking at the man. “Himura is dead.” The sound of stiletto heels entering the fray caught the man’s attention this time, and he turned to look and see a rather voluptuous Hispanic woman crossing the basement floor, not even bothering to walk around the blood stains on the floor. She leaned her right shoulder against the door, crossing her Louboutins at her ankles, and looked on at the scene in front of her. Her eyebrow cocked upwards curiously, and she bit her lip, lifting a hand to scratch her neck, adorned in a rather pretty necklace. In fact, the man observed, she was actually dressed fairly nice, as if she’d just been pulled from a rather fancy dinner. Like the rest of the people Kei seemed to center himself around, she was decorated head to toe in outrageously decadent tattoos, and her taloned fingernails just barely grazed the black and white dragon’s head at her neck. The man thought about his wife, who would be horrified to meet a woman like this. She had no sense of proper womanly decorum in the Japanese world. And then his mind wandered as he stared. His boss had never been known to bring home chicks, and considering the reason he was in prison was that he’d been charged with the murder of the daughter of a well-known Yakuza associate, the fact that one was standing willingly in his home . . . well, it was just weird. “Eyes off the lady,” Kei snapped at him, “or I’ll break something other than your phone.” The woman laughed, a deep, melodious sound, as she twirled one of her dark curls around her finger. “You sure know how to treat a girl, Kei.” She joked. “Is this the kid you were talking about?” “One and the same.” She pushed off the doorframe and walked towards Kei, sitting down on the white linen blanket a moment later. Alejandro didn’t waken. She looked at the young man, searching his features. “You said Cortez, right?” “Hai.” He confirmed, moving towards the table behind him. He began rummaging through a tupperware-set of drawers filled with sterile medical supplies. “His father runs So-Cal.” “Julian Cortez?” She replied, and it was as if a lightbulb had turned on extremely bright in her head. “That’s the one.” “Maldita sea.” She cursed. “Kei, the Cortez family has ties to one of the Cartels in Juarez. Please do not tell me he knows.” “Oh joyous.” Kei snorted. “Kei.” “Of course he knows, Alejandra.” He shook his head, walking towards Alejandro with a needle filled with some clear medicine. He grabbed the intravenous tube and slipped the needle into it, injecting the medication into his system, while simultaneously turning off the continuous supply of diazepam to his system. “I walked right into Cortez’s office and handed him a beautiful Poloroid shot by yours truly to him. I’m not fuckin’ around this time.” Alejandra looked exasperated by Kei’s nonchalance. There was always a level of danger that he never seemed to mind crossing, and though she’d only known him for a little bit of time, she’d seen his antics enough that Kei honestly didn’t give a shit about rules. Where other leaders would allow their followers to do the work for them, Kei just barrelled in and did it himself. Likely because he got a rise out of it, if nothing else. He’d probably die one day because of it. But she also knew that he wasn’t doing this just for the hell of it, either. It was then that Kei realized his peon was still in the room. With narrowed eyes, he pointed at the door. “You seriously are retarded, aren’t you? Take that AR-15, walk yourself up the steps, and find your way to guarding the door upstairs, and I don’t want to see you until I’m order you back down here.” When the man hurriedly grabbed the assault rifle and rushed up the stairs, Kei slammed the door behind him. “Baka.” He muttered then, grabbing the chair and setting it next to the bed, plunking down in it a moment later. “So, I assume you’re waking him up.” Alejandra said then, leaning forward and pressing her chin into her hand. “Yeah. I don’t speak el Mexicano, and it’s getting closer to the end game here.” “El Mexicano, hm?” She raised an eyebrow. “El Mexicano.” But he wasn’t being derisive to her, surprisingly. After all, she was from Panama. Not Mexico. “I’ll do the talking, but I need you to translate. I need you to tell him that we’re going to let him in on what’s going on, but only if he’s calm.” It didn’t take long for Alejandro to start to come around. And when he did, his eyes widened and he stared at the two in front of him almost as if he were afraid. As he very well should be. He tugged at the restraints on his arms. “Alejandro.” Alejandra murmured, pressing a hand to the kid’s shin. It softened him a bit. “Mi nombre es Cortana, y mi amigo aquí necesita decirte por qué estás atascado en esta situación. Pero, sólo si estás tranquilo.” He probably understood English, as well, but Kei’s idea that he would respond better to someone who spoke Spanish would relax him at least a little bit. And it worked. Alejandro relaxed slightly, though his eyes floated over to Kei a few times. After all, he had bashed him in the stomach with a baseball bat. “Tell him that this wouldn’t be happening if his father wasn’t a cunt.” Alejandra pursed her lips, looking at Kei and shaking her head. She smiled again when she turned back to Alejandro. “Dice que no habría llegado a esto si tu padre no fuera un pequeño idiota, pero él necesita que hagas llegar su punto.” “I know his dad has a grudge against my mentee because of some stupid thing his wife did. And he’s blocking him now from getting a shot at the top tier championship in his company by sending his goons in to make sure he doesn’t get a chance. And the kid has more than earned it at this point.” “Usted ve, su padre tiene un rencor contra su aprendiz debido a algo que sucedió que era realmente debido a su esposa. Lo está bloqueando de un tiro en el Campeonato Ultraviolent, que él tiene más que ganado en este punto.” She did repeat it, however much more eloquently than Kei would have ever put it in his entire life. Alejandro, having not spoken for nearly a month now, coughed, and tried to. His voice was gravelly, but he had to ask. “¿Por qué yo, sin embargo?” “He’s asking why it had to be him.” Kei snorted, putting his foot up against the bed and teetering his chair. “Because his sister is too closely guarded by his peons . . . or, well, was but pretty sure Reigner isn’t going to be -- what is that derogative phrase American millienials use to describe sex? Ah . . . ‘tapping that ass’ -- anymore.” Alejandro clenched his fist, pulling at the restraints. Clearly, he wasn’t going to stand for his sister to be talked to like that. “Er-hem.” Alejandra coughed, narrowing her eyes at Kei. “What?” “Not nice, Papi.” Kei’s eyes narrowed too, and he raised a hand, as if he were showcasing something on display. “Look in front of you, Alle. Behold my field of fucks, for it is barren. Fumō.” She rolled her eyes, a slight snicker on her face. “Just let him know that once Cortez agrees to my my demands, then he’ll be home. Dropped right on the doorstep of the Ultraviolent Complex. I'm a man of my word.” Kei rose up again, reading up, and restarting the drip. But that wasn’t enough. “Keep talking.” “Alejandro, porque eres el orgullo y la alegría de tu padre, y fácilmente más accesible que tu hermana. Ahora, una vez que su padre acepta los términos y condiciones de mi amigo, entonces usted será devuelto de forma segura a él.” She smiled, knowing that telling him that he was going to be safe was going to help him get through the rest of the time. In fact, the kid was so focused on Alejandra’s words, that he yelped when another needle was produced, and this time, injected into his skin. “No hay daño. Nada. Y créeme, Alejandro, eres un afortunado, porque mi amigo no siempre actúa así. Normalmente, estarías muerto.” She added, and Alejandro’s eyes widened. It was true. This was completely unlike Kei -- had it been the Kei she’d known of before his arrest, she knew the kid would have been dead already. “Lo entiendes?” Alejandro nodded, relaxing back into his bed. The diazepam was already working in his system. And once his eyes were closed once more, Kei reached over to Alejandro’s personal items. A pendant laid on the top of the pile of clothes that were his. A smile lifted on his face, and he grabbed for necklace, shoving it in a pocket. He’d pack it. Maybe it would hold some leverage. They both exited the room then, Alejandra shutting the door softly behind her. He snickered a little bit, turning to face her and leaning on the doorframe. “Remind me to have you at my bedside when I’m in the hospital, nurse.” Alejandra didn’t blush -- no, she was far from that. Instead, she leaned forward, and wrapped her arms around his waist. No one did that. Literally no one. But surprisingly, Kei allowed it. “I prefer sticking my knives in people who are my business, not someone else’s.” “That sounds inviting.” Kei snorted, lazily placing a hand on her arm. Affection wasn’t one of his strong suits, but sarcasm and a blade were. Regardless, it was easily noticeable that he was comfortable with her. “Remind me next time.” “You’re terrible. And you’re doing an awful lot for a kid who isn’t your family.” “Finn deserves it.” He wasn’t hesitant. “He’s been pushing hard for recognition everywhere he goes, and once he’s there, someone pulls it out from under him. And if there’s anything that the kid can do, it’s succeed. If he’d just stop pussy-footing around everything and just take everything like there’s nothing he can do about it, then I wouldn’t have to help him. He’s so close to breaking that habit, and when he does, I know it’ll be glorious chaos. I won’t have to do anything anymore. But he’s not going to get there if I don’t break his habit with his estranged wife.” “I assume you have something for . . . Aaron, right?” “Entirely. She’s made too many enemies. I have my pick of the lot, and I think I’ve already begun convincing one of them. It’ll be taken care of.” He leaned forward, closer to her than he was before. “But, here’s the thing, Alejandra. You told him a lied to Cortez’s kid to ease his aching heart. Just like you said you’d call that British kid.” A sly smile rose up on his face. “I know, I know. You were being nice. But now I’m going to have to break your words. If Cortez doesn’t come through like I think he will . . .” She lifted an eyebrow, and a pleasant shiver went down her spine. “. . . Alejandro is dead. I’ll kill him myself.”
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