FALLEN | The Devil of Caracas

Chapter 20 | Breaking and Entering

His feet slap the asphalt. His lungs burn. Hugo García rounds the corner. He sees the doorway, just up ahead; he's almost there. Attempting a sprint, he picks up his pace. The thick, humid air is becoming more cumbersome to take into his body. Getting closer. His side aches. He makes the final leap.

Hugo quickly presses the timer button on his digital watch. He slows his pace to a jog and then finally a brisk walk. Checking the time, his disappointment settles in; nearly a minute slower than his last run.

"Oh, come on..." he mutters between labored breaths. Walking to the end of the street, he raises his arms, interlocks his fingers, and rests his hands on top of his head. He eases his breathing as he walks back toward the door. Once somewhat cooled off, he approaches the cement step in front of his apartment complex's entryway and proceeds to stretch. Hugo watches the sunrise peeking over the apartment buildings around him and takes a moment to enjoy the silence, before the busy streets of Caracas awake.

His mind returns to his run time; it isn't his best, but it's not terrible either. Of course, his younger self would be disappointed with his current physical fitness. Hugo's former service in the United States Marine Corps demanded much of his body. But now, in his new position, he struggles to find time for any rigorous exercise.

Once he finishes stretching, Hugo steps to the door and flings it open. He makes his way up the narrow steps as they creek under his weight. A musty smell hits his nostrils - the regular 'welcome home' aroma. The nineteen-seventy-something wallpaper shows signs of age as it clings to the walls for dear life.

He finally makes it up the first flight of stairs, turns right, and then walks down the hall to his apartment. Pulling out his keys, he crams the appropriate one into the lock, and then enters his humble residence.

Locking the door behind him, he flips on the light, triggering the weak incandescent bulb above his head. It shines down on the cigarette stained walls, showing off years of yellow tinting.

Hugo proceeds to his shower, stripping off his clothes as he moves. He twists the knob and the low pressured water drizzles from the shower head. He doesn't bother shaving his scruff, but lathers his thick dark hair with shampoo. His thoughts turn to the meeting he's arranged for this evening. His informant says she has important information to share. He's curious what the woman has uncovered.

Once cleaned and dried, Hugo snatches a pair of boxers from his drawer and the 'clean-enough-jeans' from the bedroom floor. Pulling the clothes onto his body, he then wanders into the kitchen and cooks himself a simple breakfast, as he switches on the television. The screen lights up and begins to relay the local news.

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Just outside, a brown sedan rolls down the quiet street. Easing to a stop, Lucas shifts the vehicle into park. He wears a green T-shirt and light blue jeans. His head is shaven and a thick beard grows wildly around his face. "This one, right here?" he asks, pointing at a run-down apartment complex. He narrows his dark eyes at the building, furrowing his thick black eyebrows.

"Si," replies his counterpart, Angel. Sitting in the passenger seat, he glances at the address and then compares it to the one listed on his phone's navigational map. "This is it. Apartment, 102." He tucks his phone into the pocket of his khaki pants and unbuckles the seat belt. His dark hair is neatly combed and he wears a button-down plaid shirt. His the sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, showing off his thick fore-arms.

Of the two men, Lucas is larger and stronger, but Angel has no trouble holding his own, in a fight. 

"Alright, let's do this," says Angel, yanking at the door handle.

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Once fed, Hugo makes his way back to his bedroom and searches for a T-shirt, listening to the T.V. as it runs some low budget commercial in the background.