When We Met

CH 2 Rosaline

The decrepit motel room in Mendoza, Argentina was a far cry from the lavish compound I had grown up in Santiago, but it was the safest place I could find for now. A series of coded messages relayed through our network of smugglers and informants had allowed me to rendezvous with a small group of my father's most trusted sicarios who had also managed to escape the bloody massacre.

Matías, the grizzled veteran enforcer who had been by my father's side for decades, arrived first, pulling me into a crushing embrace. His haggard face was creased with sorrow and fatigue. Alejandro, the explosive hothead, showed up next, dried blood still crusted on the tail of his shirt from the battle. Then the others filed in one by one - Julio, Miguel, and Ramon, all hardened soldados fieles to my father's reign.

We gripped forearms and embraced somberly, the weight of recent events heavy on all of our shoulders. Seeing these men who had been such swaggering, fearsome forces in the Chilean underworld now looking so worn and haunted was gut-wrenching.

"Gracias a Dios you made it out, Roslaine," Matías gripped my arm firmly, his deep voice a gravelly rasp. His eyes betrayed a mixture of grief and a burning fury. "Your tío will pay for this treachery against Don Pablo and the Familia. This I swear."

"Si," I replied grimly, trying to keep my own rage in check. As the sole surviving heir, I knew I needed to lead with cold determination now. "But we must survive first before we can think of making him suffer."

We gathered around the rickety table in the cramped room to discuss our next move. Alejandro slammed his fist down, causing the cheap wood to shudder and a thin crack to spider through the surface.

"We should go back and handle that mal pariente personally," he growled, fingers twitching as if they were already wrapped around my uncle's throat. "Slit his throat just like he did to Don Pablo and the others. Cut out the snake's fangs before he strikes again."

"And risk walking into another trap?" I shook my head, holding up a hand to quiet him. "My uncle has eyes and ears everywhere in Chile now that he's seized power. In all of South America. We wouldn't make it past the border before being set upon."

The men grumbled in frustrated agreement, their hands instinctively brushing against the weapons sheathed at their sides. Matías leaned back in his creaky chair, narrowing his eyes at me thoughtfully.

"Then what do you propose, Roslaine?" he asked, both challenging me and looking for guidance. "We were among the most feared and powerful forces on this continent. Now we are hunted like perros thanks to your traitorous uncle's ambition."

I took a deep, steadying breath, carefully considering our limited options. We couldn't stay in Argentina long before my uncle's forces detected our movements. And launching any kind of head-on offensive against his entrenched position while we were so depleted would be suicide. A new strategy was needed.

"We need to disappear," I said carefully, slowly looking each of them in the eyes. "Scatter to the winds. Go to ground and rebuild our strength over time while staying glimped. Only then can we confront my uncle when he least expects it and extract our vengeance."

The men grumbled again, their bloodlust simmering. But they knew I spoke reason born from desperation. Alejandro stroked his scarred chin thoughtfully, calming himself.

"Some of us could make our way to London," he suggested after a pause. "Lay low with our underground connections amongst the expatriates in Europe while we regroup. While others disperse throughout the Americas and Caribbean to establish new footholds and revenue streams to fortify the Familia's reach once more."

A glimmer of hope began to take hold in my mind. It was a smart, pragmatic plan that could allow us to regroup over time before striking back against the usurpers who tried to destroy us.

"Very well," I nodded. "Make the arrangements to get a few of you new identities, passports, transportation to Inglaterra. The rest of us will fan out elsewhere across this continent and maintain communication through our secured channels. This is just a temporary setback."

The men seemed reinvigorated with this new purpose, no longer looking so defeated. I felt it too, that lick of determination flaring back to life. My uncle had almost won, but he had made the fatal mistake of leaving me alive and unbroken. Soon, very soon, the Familia would rise again stronger than ever before, and we would make that traitorous hijo de puta regret the day he turned against blood.