Pieces

[Jay Carpenter]

DFW

He watched his family frolic and play from a poolside lounger. Occassionally, he was distracted by a message that required immediate response, but primarily, Zacariás was content to enjoy the moment of respite. This was why he worked hard all these years. Other than the regular snacking of plantain chips and sipping of a coconut slushie, he was motionless but for the smile to tip his lips when his daughter performed some great feat of acquatics.

Which was why he was none too pleased when his moment of peace was interrupted. Mauricio was tough as a river fighting its way through rocky paths and just as dangerous, but when he crossed into Zacariás' line of sight, it was with an eager pace that tipped brewing anger toward curiosity. The handler nodded reverently for the family and knelt alongside the lounger to whisper.
"There's been a development, jefe," he said, casting a wary look at the family that told Zacarias the conversation needed to out of earshot.

Expressing his apologies, he left his refreshing drink behind and proceeded indoor. The glass door slid shut behind him.
Mauricio offered him the flexible screen of a scroll, which upon unrolling, Zacariás smiled quite happily.

The man in the image was nearly unrecognizable.  A huge relief swelled his chest.  "Great work, Mauricio. Keep him alive and cognizant, but tell Placaso to enjoy himself,"  he said. The angle wasn't the best, but he zoomed in on the chest, roaming the options that his primary enforcer, a man nicknamed Placaso, may or may not select for future body-art.

He returned the scroll to Mauricio,  "Show me a new picture every hour," he said.

+++++

Dinner was served on the patio. Fire globes blazed around the pool with beautiful, glowing lights. He sipped cold wine grown from Argentinian grapes, and had just announced the need to take his daughter out into town tomorrow.

She wasn't pleased with the idea.
"Papa! I wanted to see a movie with my friends tomorrow," she said.
Zacariás scooped another delicious bite with full confidence nothing was poisoned. His staff-chemist and taste-testers already conducted thorough analysis of the meal. Alana was completely ignorant of such behind-the-scenes efforts her father exerted to keep them safe.
"You can see your friends later. This has to do with your tio Andre. I have apprehended his murderer," he said, laying the fork aside.

She sat straighter, "Really? That's great news," but she licked her lip, eyes downcast.
"Why does this make you somber, daughter?" He asked.
Her lips pushed to a thin line. That night was quite traumatic for her. "Tio Andre was a good man, and sometimes I still have nightmares."

Zacariás pushed from his chair immediately, joining her side. He gripped her by the hand and forced her to look him in the eye.
"This is weakness, daughter. You must purge the fear from your mind or you'll never control it. I'm taking you to visit the man who murdered Tio Andre before your eyes. I will show you that evil does not go unpunished. You will help me. Then you will sleep better at night," he said. The words were harsh, but he pulled her forward and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. She smelled faintly of cholrine and tanning lotion.

His wife watched nodding along, silently mouthing thank you, as he embraced their daughter.