VAERDA: La Grande Famiglia

A Fading Truce 🔞

A Fading Truce

The plane lands hitting the tarmac, slightly throwing around the passengers inside. Athena walks out, head held high enough to hurt, she gets in to the car after a quick scan of her surroundings.

"Straight to the border." she instructs as she sinks into the plush seats, throwing her head back.

When they reach, she gets out, leaning back against the hood of the car. The guards at the Wall walk towards her, getting shot though, just as they approach her. She motions for two of her own men to pick up the fallen soldiers.

"Just for a bit, boys, you can ditch the costume when they switch shifts." She waves them off to get changed into their new uniforms.

In the distance, a line of dirty white pick-up trucks race towards the Wall, they ram straight through the wall, skidding to a halt right in front of Athena. Her men come forward, forming a protective stance around her. The doors of the trucks swing open revealing numerous burly men dressed poorly in torn, dirty t-shirts and cargo pants. They form a messy line in front of trucks, a sleek, black Rolls Royce comes down the non-existent dust path, a stark contrast to the battered trucks. The driver runs around the car to open the door, a small, polished, black shoe steps out first, that's all that happens for about thirty seconds.

Athena rolls her eyes at the dramatic theatrics; she motions for her men to proceed with their security check-up on the brawny thugs. The Mexicans raise their hands above their heads, Athena lights up a cigarette as she watches her men thoroughly check for any weapons. They report 'clean'. The tiny shoe appearance had progressed and Miguel Perez' tiny, stout frame, clothed by a coat that looked like it would bust a stitch anytime and ill-fitted pants stood firm against wind, his slicked, hardly-existent white hair now reduced to just a few strands floating above him. He took laboured steps toward Athena, causing her to roll her eyes again at his snail pace, his Rolls Royce moved slowly behind. She massages the bridge of her nose in an attempt to calm herself down.

He comes to a halt in front of her, sticking his up for a handshake which Athena ignores, a bad idea considering the change in their situation. She turns around and gets back in her car, putting the air conditioning to a full blow. Perez gets into the car, his driver pretty much carrying him to place him inside. An hour later they arrive at a neutral warehouse. Athena sits across Perez on a rackety metal chair. Perez was sat quite comfortably considering the wooden chair he was sat on looked like it would collapse flat under him.

The two bosses sat in silence, Miguel glaring at Athena and she stared back with a bored look on her face.

"Are you suppling someone else? I mean it's not like you can find a better waste dump here than in Mexico." Athena breaks the silence.

"Do you mean to call Mexico a waste dump?"

"Well I'm not wrong, am I? But that wasn't the question."

"We have nothing on each other, other than our truce, I don't need to tell you anything."

Athena gets up in one fluid motion, her chair flying back and clattering against the floor as she holds a gun against his head. The old man's eyes widen, his knuckles turning white as he grips onto the wooden armrests. The Mexicans pull out a few tiny revolvers which were enveloped in their unusually large hands, in an immediate response, Athena's men point their large automatic rifles at the sturdy men.

Athena's eyes glared straight into the tiny Mexican man's, she stood bent over his short, stout frame, one hand placed on the chair to hold herself above him. The large doors of the warehouse swing open and Athena's reinforcements take their positions around the room, outnumbering the Mexicans. Within a matter of seconds, the Mexicans are bleeding out on the floor of the warehouse, the large men being able to take quite a few hits each before their bodies gave out.