Modern Fairy-tale

Callahan

"Here." He hands me a folder out of his briefcase. He's old-school. Leave no electronic trail. Ever. It's probably what's kept him out of prison.

I open the folder and the first thing I see is a grainy photo of the man who orchestrated my family's massacre.

The younger Fernando Mancini.

I flip through the photos, look at the vast, empty land around him. I look at the men in their pickup trucks, the porch of the house he's stepping into. The bigger house I don't recognize.

“He's in Mexico?"

My uncle nods. “Making an alliance between the Esmeralda Cartel, which he considers himself the head of since he is engaged to Portia — ”

"He can consider himself the fucking king of England for all I care. It makes no difference to me. Like I said, he's no longer engaged to Portia. She told me she'd rather kill herself than fuck him."

“Well, that'll be news to him then."

"Go on. I recognize the Esmeralda house. But what's this one? With whom is he forging this alliance?"

"Felix Pérez. Heat