CINCO (Five) [On Indefinite Hiatus]

Prologue

“You choose them for their brains?”

 “Ah, much more than that. I choose them for their potential.”

 “What do you mean, Señor Javier?”

The person addressed was man wrapped in shadows. He was neither tall nor imposing as he sat at the corner of a room lit only by a single gasera. The flickering light only revealed very few of his features: an oiled moustache under a graceful nose, and upon it sat a pair of rounded spectacles whose silvery glint pierced the gloom.

Señor Javier was a man of foresight. He smiled, baring the whites of his teeth.

“I’ve been tracking more than a hundred children in the walled city alone,” began Señor Javier, who knew better than to give a direct answer. “I have been watching them, studying them. We’ve lost grasp of a few, however, especially those who resided outside Manila.”

“Rizal? The Luna brothers?” came a male voice from across the room, only one of the few inquiring personages that filled the tiny room.

 “Ah, once they were perfect. But they have grown too old.”

 “Old? You have an age limit?” came another male voice, audibly curious.

“In order for this to work, we need young minds. Impressionable minds.”

Yet another man, the third of their three-man party who came and met with Señor Javier, stepped forward and produced a sheet of paper, upon it the liquescent lines of Señor Javier’s own handwriting.

“You tracked hundreds, you say,” said the man. Señor Javier only looked up at him and did not glance at the paper, knowing full well what he had written on it. The man continued. “And yet I only see five names on this list.”

“They have been chosen carefully,” said Señor Javier calmly, “and yet…”

“And yet, what?” came the second voice.

“And yet we can’t guarantee total success. We shall see in the years to come, as these children grow a little older.”

“You want us to fund something that can’t guarantee the results we need?” came the first man’s voice, incredulously.

Señor Javier only smiled once again, in quiet confidence. He held a walking cane in his left hand, but there was something about the cane which gave an impression that Señor Javier, was in fact, a man of position, but under whose orders he was subjected to, even the three financiers did not know.

No one was supposed to know.

The second man cleared his throat. Señor Javier’s demeanor gave them the assurance they wanted.

“Very well, Señor Javier. Three hundred thousand pesos will be deposited to your account,” declared the third man, and that was when Señor Javier, ever flashing his jovial smile, took the paper from his hand.

“Gracias, Señor.”

“So, five children.”

“Yes.”

“We’re looking forward to what you have in store for us and for them, Señor Javier.”

 Once again, his toothy smile.

Upon the sheet of paper were these names:

Maria Dolores Cardones y Ferrer, 12 años de edad

Felipe Villasor y Hernandez, 14 años de edad

Valentino Garcia y Lopez, 12 años de edad

Maria Rosario Panganiban y Santiago, 12 años de edad

Emilio Jacinto y Dizon, 13 años de edad

Señor Javier folded the sheet neatly. With the tap of his cane, he stood up, poised and calm. He retrieved his hat which lay upon a table beside him, put it on, and tipped it. Unceremoniously, and silently, he left.

***

A/N: Yep, farking up history here, and having a grand time. xD

Decided to write something alternatively to “Pingkian,” which is the less “historically farked up” between the two. :P So pick your poison, m’dears.

~RaggedyCat