Old Man Sanchez

Chapter 6: False Identity

TAP, TAP, TAP.
Sanchez opened his puffy eyes and looked to his window to the left to see a man with a flashlight poking the window with its rear end. Looking back to the steering wheel, Sanchez took the key out of ignition and rolled down the window.
"Yes, officer," greeted Sanchez.
"What are you doing sitting here on the side of the road," asked the officer with a serious tone in his voice.
"I um... I felt sleepy, so I pulled over and drifted off. Am I in trouble?"
"No, you aren't- long as I see some ID."
Sanchez reveled a fake smile before reaching into his pocket. Before he could pull out his wallet, the officer spoke.
"Whoa, there, old man," said the officer. "Are there any firearms in the car?"
Sanchez rolled his eyes before replying.
"Yes. In my back pocket."
There was a pause before the officer responded.
"Okay," started the officer. "Take out your driver's license nice... and slow."
With every intention to not provoke the officer, Sanchez took out his wallet. He opened it and pulled out his driver's license, giving it to the scared officer.
"I'll be right back- you sit tight, sir."
The officer walked away from Sanchez's car and into his car. Moments passed as the officer reviewed over Sanchez's identity.
Within a few more minutes, the officer made way back to Sanchez, returning his form of identity.
"I'm sorry, sir," apologized the officer. "Didn't know I was standing in the presence of a certified legend."
Sanchez kept a straight face as he replied.
"No hero. Just a man who doesn't take injustice lightly."
"I uh... I heard about your fam. Didn't deserve the way they went out, sir. If you need anything, we'll always be there for you back at the station."
Sanchez didn't reply right away. He was thinking of what to say. Suddenly, something crossed his mind.
"I would like to see my family's bodies," said Sanchez with a straight face.
"Um... yeah, okay. Well, are y- you ready to see them? You don't think it's too early, sir?"
"No. I do not."
The officer looked around thinking about what to say next.
"Okay. Want to follow me or ride with me," he asked.
"I'll follow," replied Sanchez, picking up his keys and turning his car back on.
"Alright, then. I'll escort you."

Along the road, Sanchez was just a mile or so away from the police station, along with the officer. Sanchez already knew the officer. His name was Luke Dawson. Sanchez didn't address his name at all. Maybe it was becuase of how rude the officer was before he knew who the old man was.
Pulling up to the parking lot of the station, Officer Dawson slowly drove into a space with Sanchez parking a couple of feet away from him, into the spaces that weren't reserved. After turning off his car, Sanchez got out, leaving his pistol in the car.
"Sanchez," called out Dawson.
The old man didn't respond. Instead, he walked in the direction of the officer.
As the two walked into the station, they were welcomed by loud chatter and footsteps. All around the station, there were an unlimited amount of offices walking through the building.
Looks different from the last time I was here, thought Sanchez.
     "Through here, Mr. Sanchez," yelled officer Dawson.
     The old man followed after the officer into a long hallway that had doors on each side of the wall. With every footstep, Sanchez felt his heart drop more and more within his chest. He was anxious to see his family. He was anxious to bring them peace. But most of all, he was anxious to wreck havoc.
     Officer Dawson has begun slowing his pace and showed Sanchez the door for clearance to the morgue.
     "Alright, Mr. Sanchez," began the officer. "This is where I stop escorting you. Just tell the man on the other side of this door here your name and the victim's names as well."
     Sanchez nodded as he watched the officer swipe a key alongside the door. Shortly after, a light illuminated itself as an alarm rang for only a short duration. Automatically, the door opened, giving Sanchez a way in.
     After walking through the door, Sanchez heard the door slam. The wind from it gust with a harsh breeze. Sanchez was then accompanied by one of the agents.
     "Hello sir, what's the name?" The agent asked for the name of the Old man as he was carrying a note board and paper, scanning through the documents.
     "Andre Sanchez," said the old man after clearing his throat.
     "Okay... ah, I see. Follow me please."
     As the two walked only a couple of steps, they walked into a cold room.
     "When is the funeral, if you don't mind me asking."
     Sanchez eyes opened wide for a split second. He'd forgotten about the funeral that he was to hold for his son and granddaughter.
     "... 8 days from now."
     "Ah. Well, in advance, I give my condolences. Their lives were precious. I hope that you find peace in what you are going through. Losing two beautiful souls is disheartening. If you need further guidance in dealing with this, please contact the counselor in the front of the station."
     Sanchez kept the same facial expression, ignoring every word that the agent had said. Thoughts were running through his head as he got closer and closer to seeing his dad family.
     Mi familia...
     The agent grabbed a key from out of his lab coat and twisted the door to the box. Within a few seconds, the door to the box popped opened and slowly slid out a body with a cover that was hardly transparent, covering the body from head to toe. Without a moment to lose, the agent pulled back the cover from the body.
     Sanchez's expression almost changed. Flashbacks of his granddaughter's face raced through his mind. The body before him was not the little girl he loved.
     "Okay, and the next," spouted Sanchez.
     "Alright sir, the body is over there," said the agent, pointing to the opposite of the room.
     Are the people here in kahoots with the mafia?
     Closing the box, the agent walked over to another box and repeated the same steps. As the box slid opened, another body that was covered appeared. But this time, the body was taller than the last.
     Removing the cover, the agent displayed the dead body. Sanchez didn't make a sound. His breathing didn't even change. The only thing present within him were the questions that lingered in his mind.
     Who are these people? Where is my family? Are they still alive? Who is this Juzo fella- is he tied to the kidnapping of my granddaughter and son?
     "Um, sir," began the agent, "is everything alright?"
     "Yes... yes," replied Sanchez.
     The old man placed two fingers against his lips and positioned them on the forehead of the boy presented to him that was not at all his son.
     "Papa loves you," he whispered. After that, he turned around and proceeded to leave the station. The agent didn't stop him. He may have thought that the old man needed to do what his did in seeing his 'dead family'.
     Sanchez continued walking and walked out of the station, making his way to the parking lot.
     Someone is going to die- and it won't be me.