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hausofmamadas · 4 months

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For Those That Seek the Jungle's Forgiveness | Part 2

(formerly "Gone. Like That." Catch up with -> Part 1)

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Pairing: Mika Camarena & Connie Murphy and Mika Camarena x Javi Peña

Word count: ≈ 5.2K

TWs: Canon-typical violence, major character death, grief/mourning, loss of significant other, discussion of guns

This was an argument she'd had a long time ago with men in fancy suits that held prestigious, official-sounding titles and had absolutely no intention of actually listening. Mika almost accidentally manslaughters Javi when he sneaks up on her on dark street at night, and then she proceeds to roast him for pulling some trick-ass shit, not keeping in contact with Connie while he’s been looking into Steve’s disappearance. Eventually, he accepts that Mika’s 40x smarter and wiser than him and bends the knee to the real comandante of this operation and comes one step closer to realizing he’s lowkey in love with her.

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Mika glanced at her watch. Almost exactly half past eleven. She pulled up and idled in front of Connie and Steve’s place, staring at the front steps and metal railing that led to the black, geometric, lattice work on the front door.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched. By who? No clue. But with every tick of her watch, she jumped, confusing it with the phantom sound of a camera snapping. She could already see what the picture might look like: her station wagon parked conspicuously in front of the building, bathed in the warm, sallow glow of the street lights.

Hand on the wheel, she leaned forward, surveying the street with an outstretched index finger before making a U-turn and parking on the other side of the street. The engine was already off by the time she noticed it in the rear view mirror, a familiar boxy silhouette, two cars back, jacked up on all four wheels, that giant hood covering the back. Shit. It was Javi’s. She’d recognize that jalopy anywhere. So much for keeping the information contained between just her and Connie. So much for keeping the DEA out of it.

Oh well, she’d just have to find a way to convince Javi to go it alone with them. That would probably take some doing. She’d have to call Laura, see if she could look after Kikito and Danny for a few more hours. She hated to be more of a burden but they couldn’t risk Javi getting a bunch of agencies involved that would only eat the clock fighting over jurisdiction, paperwork, money. Plus, Danny loved when Laura showed him all the new additions to their huge fish tank.

Still, it was strange. Didn’t Connie say on the phone that Javi went back embassy? He did live downstairs, though. He might've just stopped at home. But Connie made it sound like he’d left in a rush. Maybe he forgot to tell her something important. That’d make a lot more sense than him being home. Hell, chasing a man they didn’t know and would probably never meet, these guys always found reasons not to come home. Chasing a partner gone MIA? Fucking forget it. So sure, maybe he’d got some news. Maybe he’d booked it back in a hurry because the news was bad. Mika shook her head. No, no, don’t go there. Not yet.

Reaching over, she popped the glove box. The door fell open to reveal the barrel of a Glock that Kiki had given her years ago, shining in the low light of the car. Was she really going to walk around with this now? Was it even necessary? Of course it was. Steve was missing and this place was a war zone. She tucked it into her bag, keeping her hand inside around the grip but off the trigger just like Kiki showed her. This sense of certainty had been almost unthinkable back when he had first suggested he teach her how to use a gun.

It had been right after the DFS shot Víctor in that cafe and the Guadalajara cartel put a hit out on Roger. A vision of the Knapps’ front yard and driveway, littered with sheets of broken glass, struck her. Goosebumps erupted, traveling up the back of her neck as the memory replayed.

Kiki had been gently rubbing her back while they were watching Roger and Rita frantically jam suitcases in the trunk of their car, the same glass crunching beneath each frenzied step they took. She distinctly remembered, as she took in the scene, being afflicted with an almost inappropriate sense of relief that Rita wouldn’t have had to clean all of that up herself.

Looking from the driveway back to her, Kiki declared almost out of the blue, 'See if Clarice can watch Danny and Kikito sometime this week. I’m gonna take you to the range.’

He was startled when she’d started laughing, beside herself because the whole thing was absurd, right? Except, the look of unwelcome assurance in his eyes, an ominous forecast of what was to come, reminded her that it wasn’t. And that itself was absurd.

‘Baby, c’mon I’m serious.’ She could make out the ridge of his jaw bone under the skin, tensed to keep his voice low as he shook his head. ‘No. We can’t count on them coming after just me anymore. And I won’t leave you alone without knowing you can at least protect yourself, protect the boys. I’m tryin’ to end this, you know I can’t be with you all the time.’

She took a deep breath to quiet the anxious laughter. A flat look of resignation had passed over her face as she breathed out, ‘No, you’re right. You’re right.’

He put his arm around her and pulled her in so she could rest her head on his shoulder, lips dusting her forehead with a quick kiss.

‘No, I’m sorry. And I know, I know, I know. You don’t even have to say it, okay? As soon as I get this motherfucker Félix, we can start looking for places in San Diego. But right now, I need to know you can take care of business. I mean, look, okay?’ he threw his hand up, waving it around in the direction of the house. ‘Look– I mean, fuckin’ Roger was makin’ fuckin’ pancakes for his kids when they started shooting up the place!’

Mika mumbled something in agreement.

‘And anyway, you’ll feel better knowing you can kick some ass,’ he looked down and gave her a wink, ‘y’know, the Calexico way.’

The warmth of the smile in his voice got her to crack one too.

And the thing was, he had been right. She had felt better after that. Taking Kikito to school, baseball practice, doctor’s appointments, going for lunch with Ana and Ronnie, thinking about what guys who pulled her over - like that greaseball with the slicked back hair and sunglasses - would do if she flashed a gun when she reached for her license instead of cash. It might not have changed the outcome much. But at least they wouldn’t have been so smug, knowing she wasn’t going to make things easy for them. The naive part of her that had been stuck back in Calexico knew how insane that was. But the part of her there, in Guadalajara, had understood that’s simply how things needed to be. Such was their life.

Or, her life. Now.

And would you look at that? Steve gone, it was all hell breaking loose, all over again. Except whatever optimism she might’ve clung to back then like a deflating life raft went to the grave with Kiki. So, these days, she had no problem admitting she felt better with a gun. Kiki put it as, ‘knowing she could kick some ass.’ Today, she thought of it as more, in the likely event that she didn’t survive, she could make whoever decided to fuck with her regret choosing her to fuck with.

She steeled herself with a breath before opening the car door, then pulled the handle and swung it open. Kicking one leg out and whipping her head around to check the street, she felt like a periscope rising out of the sea, slowly standing up. Clear. Good. And with more self-assurance than she felt, she shut the car door, locked it, and made a beeline for the concrete stairs of the building entrance, fighting every step of the way not to give over to the mental image of being tracked by crosshairs, to not think about a little red dot on her back right where her heart would be.

Halfway to the other side of the street, a voice rang out from the dark behind her. “Hey stranger.”

She stopped cold, heart pounding so fiercely, she wondered if maybe she hadn’t been right about the crosshairs and this was what being shot was like. Relief nearly knocked her on her ass when, glancing down to make sure she was still in one piece, she realized there was nothing. Hand still gripping the gun in her bag, she whipped around faster than she could think, nearly clocking Javi in the jaw with the barrel. Just barely dodging the blow, his hands went up in a gesture of armistice, and froze like that in the middle of the street, laughing awkwardly.

“Oh my god, you scared the shit outta me. Enserio, cabrón? Has vuelto loco? Sneaking up behind a woman on a dark street? In one of the most dangerous cities in the world? Do you have a death wish?”

“Er, sorry. Yeah, I guess I sorta forgot living in a place as, uh–”

“Lawless? Insane as Medellin?”

”I was gonna say uh, unpredictable— but yeah, of course this isn’t really be new to you, is it? Pero,” he slowly brought one of his hands down and pushed the gun barrel to the side with his index finger to inspect it, “pues tengo que admitir que no esperaba que sí estuvieras tan preparada.”

He put his hand back up but something in looking at the gun made him drop his shoulders and relax into that familiar, annoying, Saturday-afternoon, Javier-‘The Man’-Peña posture he assumed when he was especially pleased with himself.

“What?” Mika’s eyebrows shot up. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Man, I don’t know how to tell you this exactly,” he said, scratching his forehead. “But at the risk of er— taking a bullet to the face when I do, I— well, you should probably know that, uh … well, your safety’s on.”

From the position marked with a tiny, engraved letter “S,” the safety switch mocked Mika as much as the upturned sides of Javi’s mustache. He kept his hands up as if to reassure her that she was still in control but doing a piss-poor job because he couldn’t seem to hide that shit eating smirk on his face.

“Well,” she narrowed her eyes and shrugged, trying to play it off, “maybe I’m not out to get anyone killed. Maybe I just wanna scare them. You think anyone who matters is really gonna notice?”

He cocked his head like a curious puppy, smiling even more, “I did.”

“But do you, Agent Peña?”

“Do I what?”

“Really matter?” Mika shot back, voice laden with sarcasm but enough good humor to show she didn’t mean it.

They stared at each other for a moment and the combination of the half-wounded expression on his face and the way the street lights lit it orange like a fake tan made her want to laugh.

“Ah shit,” she glanced down the barrel of the gun, tipping it slightly to the side, “that is such a Soccer Mom move. But y’wanna know what’s worse?”

A touch of curiosity came to keep Javi’s smirk company, the desire to hear her answer punctuated by his silence.

Mika shrugged. “My kids don’t even play soccer.”

Javi looked down, shoulders shaking as he tried to direct his laughter into the pavement instead of at her. It didn’t matter though because she was laughing too. Standing in the middle of the street, they dropped their hands and busted up together so synchronously, it looked almost rehearsed.

Once their little fit subsided, Javi was the first to come up for air. “So, what’s a rogue lady of the DEA wives’ club doing on an empty street in Bogotá this late at night? Besides trying to murder me with— what is–? Hold on, is that an MHS?” Javi grabbed her hand to get a better look at the piece. “Man, where’d you manage to get one of these?”

Perplexed, Mika’s eyes darted down to the gun because for all she knew about firearms, it might as well have been a potato that she was holding. “Uhhh, it was a gift from Kiki’s partner. So, I could learn how to use one. Obviously,” she rolled her eyes, “you can see how well that went.”

“Man,” he said, letting it go with such fondness, “I didn’t even know they still made those things.” Which again, made as much sense as if he were marveling at a potato she was holding. “Y’know those are one of the only kinds of Glocks they made with slide mounted safety.”

She kept switching focus from Javi to the gun, trying to figure out what was so special about it, before realizing she didn’t actually care, “Alright, nerd,” and dropped her arm at her side.

“Yeah, yeah. Well, anyway,” Javi said, back to reality, “I think you were about to explain the reasons for my brush with death?”

“What? Before you got sidetracked, being all nerdy and shit?”

“Sure, yeah.”

“Well, what? You can’t guess?” Mika looked up at Connie’s window on the second floor and then back at Javi, whistling. “Man, you boys at the DEA must be losing your touch. They’ll hire anyone these days.”

Javi rolled his eyes, “Ha ha ha” finally letting his hands drop, palms smacking his hips on the way down. “C’mon, put yourself in my position. Sure, that wild look of biblical hellfire in your eyes is gone, but you’ve still got that,” he gestured at her side, “in your hand? So, y’know– thought it best to keep the conversation light.”

“Whoops,” Mika said, chuckling and checking that the safety was still on before putting the gun back in her purse.

Glancing at the empty street around them, Mika realized this might be a good opportunity to needle Javi for more info while she had him alone. Before he could clam up in front of Connie. “So, any news about Steve? I’m guessing that’s why you came back here, and not for a night cap and a bedtime story.”

Javi regarded her, amused but not without suspicion, brows cinched as he caught his tongue between his teeth. Another mannerism of his Mika had picked up on in the few years she’d known him. Historically, she’d found it kinda cute when he wasn’t being evasive and annoying. When he was, she found herself hoping he’d slip and bite down a little too hard.

Right now, he was being evasive and annoying.

“Please, Javi. Don’t make me go there.”

”Sorry?”

She eyed him with a measure of regret, acutely aware that his foot had just hit the metal plate of the conversational trap she’d just set and the mechanical jaws were about to clamp shut. “You’re not gonna make me invoke my dead husband’s name to shame you into telling me, are you?” There they went.

His hands flew to his hips as he cocked one out to the side, face morphing from suspicious to pained and almost pleading. But still, nothing.

With that, all regret evaporated and Mika just rolled her eyes, turning on her heels and headed for the door of the apartment building. She made it to the other side of the street and up the steps but paused, fingertips on the handle, when she realized he wasn’t following her.

“Cmon Agent Peña, just tell the truth.” Turning around, she shifted the weight of her bag on her shoulder so she could grab the spare key from one of its pockets. “Look, I know it’s not something that comes naturally to you boys in blue, but just think of it as practice. You know, for when you talk to Connie.”

Javi’s eyes darted from her, to the window of Connie and Steve’s apartment on the second floor, then back at her, then back down at the ground. Weighing his options, it seemed, he stood like that for what felt like ages before rubbing his face, grumbling into his palms, “Ah, fine. Fuck it.”

Mika turned back to the door, taking a mental victory lap - gotcha - as she swung it open.

And in a few long strides over to and up the stairs, skipping every other step, Javi was slipping in the door right behind her. He followed her down the hallway, both of them walking in silence, past his apartment, up the first flight of stairs, until, when turning to climb the next flight, he was seemingly unable to contain himself. “Hey. What’d you mean back there?”

Mika kept pace about to start up the next set of stairs, paying him no mind.

He raised his voice to a kind of whisper-yell, grabbing her hand before she could get too far up the stairs, “Mika!”

She turned around and walked back down stopping a step above him.

“Not something that comes naturally?" He let her hand slid out of his almost reluctantly before crossing his arms. "You wanna explain what that’s supposed to mean, exactly?”

There was more vulnerability in this than anger, the words of a boy on the playground whose feelings were hurt because someone kicked over his sandcastle.

She almost felt sorry for him but Connie’s words, thick with tears rang in her ears. Javi left before I could ask him anything. All he said was that he thinks Steve’s alive, but that just means he’s not sure he’s dead.

And all of a sudden, the long since dormant bitterness and fury that had made its home deep in the pit of her stomach when Kiki died came back to collect. With interest. It burned in her chest so tangibly, it felt like some toxic, poisonous gas all these years had been incubating in her body for all of these years that she was about to unleash with the steady stream of a flamethrower. Poor Javi. He was in for it.

The tragic part, the part she’d feel guilty about later, was that none of this was his fault. It was some bureaucrat’s, some bored old bastard, way up the chain of command, tucked away in some embassy office, sat behind a titanic mahogany desk so expensive it could cover the down payment on her house, even though he did nothing but shuffle papers around, shake hands, kiss babies, make phone calls to grieving wives and mothers to give them that familiar speech: Why yes, everything is under control, ma’am. We’re doing all that we can, ma’am. Well hey now, there’s no reason to raise your voice, ma’am. You just need to understand these things take time. Now, please take a seat over there so I can pretend like you’re not wasting mine, ma'am.

Unfortunately for Javi, he was the one in front of her. And there was nowhere else for it to go. He’d looked like he’d taken a few on the chin in his day, but she couldn’t be sure he could bounce back from this one. Not that it mattered. This was an argument she’d had a long time ago with men in fancy suits that held prestigious, official-sounding titles and had absolutely no intention of actually listening. If a tree falls in the forest and there’s no one around to hear it, does it still make a sound?

Christ, was this going to be any different?

“Look,” Mika sighed, “Connie already told me everything you’ve shared with her.”

Looking like he was frozen in time, Javi stood there, forehead pinched in a moment of calculation. As much as he seemed unsure of what to expect, at the same time, he was aware enough not to insult her by playing completely dumb.

“And to be honest?” she continued, crossing her arms. “So far, that ‘everything’ sounds like a whole lotta nothing.”

Javi winced but managed to sputter out, “I don’t know what you’re talk—“

“Please. Don’t patronize me with all that,” Mika’s fingers came up to make air quotes, “‘What on earth could you mean?’ bullshit” and then ended the bit, dropping her hands at her hips. “Don’t you think I’ve had enough of that for a lifetime?”

Eyes wide, mouth open, Javi looked stunned, the inevitable ‘What are you talking about?’ stuck in his throat, leaving him with nothing to say or do but wait for her to elaborate.

“You wanna know what I’m talk—? Fine, fine. I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you exactly what I’m talking about.” With a clipped breath, she steadied herself. “You think you’re protecting Connie by keeping her in the dark. Gone for hours, not answering her calls, not checking in, not telling her where you’ve been, who you’ve talked to, where you’re going.”

Her eyes pinned Javi in place, right there in the middle of the stairway. Perhaps trying not buckle under the weight of decades of forfeited accountability, in an effort to cope, he shrank back trying to become one with the wall. But Mika wasn’t done.

“She’s not some precious fucking flower who’ll wilt at any mention of the truth. And she’s not an idiot. She deserves the facts and your honest assessment about well,” she waved her hands, “whatever is going on. And that includes what you think Steve’s chances are.”

“His chances?”

“Of being alive, Javi.”

His jaw tightened hard, lips pursed like he was sucking on a lemon, and he paused for a long time before launching into the same good-ole-boy schpiel she’d heard a thousand times. With Javi though, there was a well-veiled but desperate sincerity with which he delivered it that reminded her of Jaime. “With all due respect Mika, I can’t— I don’t know if you understand the moving pieces at play here. How rigged the system is. How— well, how beyond fucked up it all is.”

Mika’s head sank, chin nearly touching her chest. However sincere, it wasn’t enough.

“Y’know,” she spoke down at the ground, through a cruel, thin laugh, “I don’t bring this up often because it doesn’t make for great dinner conversation, certainly not an ice breaker. But since you’re such a man, I bet you can handle it,” and then looked back up to him with a smile that came nowhere close to her eyes. “When I arrived at the ME’s office to identify Kiki’s body, do you know what they were picking out of the gaping wounds on his head?”

The look on Javi’s face said he wasn’t touching that with a ten-foot pole. He didn’t need to.

“Chunks of rebar and wood. Along with pieces of his skull.”

A war waged in Javi’s eyes between heartbreak and indignation but he was smart enough to know that now was not the time to give voice to either.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, maybe I’m mistaken. But were you there, Agent Peña? Were you the one to survey all the wounds he had? Did you read the coroner’s report– the one with that stupid, generic outline of a body that cataloged each and every injury? Did you see how riddled his body was? With bruises? Cuts? Welts? Burns?” She shook her head like she still couldn’t believe it. “Actual holes?”

His face conveyed nothing but heartbreak now. No matter that these were all rhetorical questions, it was the right answer.

“So, I think a better question is, do you know how fucked up it all is?”

Eyes cast off to the side, Javi was quiet for a long time, rolling his tongue along the inside of his cheek, likely trying to decide what, if anything, to say, until he was reanimated by a moment of epiphany. He stood up straight, no longer resembling a shriveled barnacle, stuck to the wall. And it all came out, practically in one breath.

“Alright, alright. Fine. You want the truth? The truth is, I have no idea. I have” he threw up his hands with the frustration of a man whose luck had run out, finally folding at the poker table, “not a fucking clue who took him. Nothing. No leads. No evidence. Except my colleague’s contacts in the military haven’t caught wind of anything about a DEA being taken by Escobar’s people, so it’s probably not him and I’ve just been trying to keep things quiet so th—“

“So you don’t get him killed by spooking the kidnappers because you turned law enforcement onto a big search. That’s a song and dance I remember.”

“Right,” Javi carried on without missing a beat. “Which means I’ve got no help from the embassy, no help from my own agency, no help from the military. And I sure as fuck don’t want help from any of those shady fucks in the CIA. So yeah,” he;d been talking so fast, he was nearly gasping now, “I think— since it’s not Escobar, I think he might— well, might be—”

“Dead.”

He exhaled a defeated, “Yeeup.”

After her little speech, Mika wasn’t sure what Javi would come back with but she didn’t expect him to fold quite so easily. He was an even easier nut to crack than Jaime had been when he came to give her the news that he’d found Kiki’s car. To be fair, she did have more leverage now, what with Kiki already being dead. Everyone already got their crash course, a ‘How-To’ in ‘What-Not-To-Do’ when a DEA agent goes missing. Still, she expected more resistance, more half-truths couched in platitudes, more bullshit. But he didn’t do that to her.

She looked him up and down, sizing him up like she hadn’t gotten it right the first time and decided, in that moment, she respected him infinitely more than she had just minutes ago.

“Okay,“ she began, breaking the silence. “Besides Escobar, who else would take him? Could it be someone in the government? Maybe loyal to the cartel but, I don’t know,” she shrugged, “operating without Escobar’s say-so?”

Javi shook his head, “We have most of the financials of his operation, who takes his bribes, who’s on his payroll. Shit, half of them are bribed by us to look the other way when it’s convenient,” and looked wearily off to the side, grumbling, “The fuckin’ good guys, right.”

“Yeah, it seems like, no matter where you go, these ‘company’ men don’t have any real loyalty. I’m beginning to wonder if it’s some kind of professional code that the rest of us don’t know about.”

Mika thought of Heath and the dozens of others in the DEA, Homeland Security, Defense Department, men in the same gray suits offering the same recycled condolences and half baked apologies in the months after Kiki died. She didn’t bother to wipe the stray tear that escaped down her cheek.

Javi shoved his hands in his pockets like he didn’t know what to do with them.

“Alright,” Mika said, with a knowing smile. “Well. There. That wasn’t so hard, now was it.”

“Oh sure, yeah, real piece of cake,” he scoffed.

They were both quiet, staring at each other until Javi piped up, “Y’know actually, I hear there are some teaching positions open at that uh,” he snapped his fingers, “whatsit, the School of the Americas? Yeah, they could learn a thing or two from you. Call it Emotional Blackmail and Interrogation Techniques 101. You should look into that. Might be your calling. I hear the pay’s nothing earth shattering. But the health benefits— tsk great.”

Mika looked down at the floor, chuckling.

“Although, I gotta say, that biblical hellfire look? That is— phew,” he waved his hand in front of her face and she giggled, “that is raw talent. Can’t teach that. So alright, what's next, patrona, Ms. Inquisition? What do we do now?”

“Well,” Mika’s nose scrunched, giving way to real laughter this time which helped her to break the news gently, “for starters, you’re gonna tell Connie everything you just told me.”

Javi opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off. “Look, if nothing in the last five minutes told you I’m not here for bullshit, maybe this will: as his wife, she deserves the truth.”

He crossed his arms again, quietly defensive.

“And as his wife, you might be able to leverage her, in case the higher ups try to play games, drag their feet on this.”

“Sorry,” he leaned forward like he didn’t hear her right, “leverage?”

“You said it yourself, you have no leads. It’s time to take this up the ladder, and there’s more than one of those, yes?”

Javi groaned.

“Look, when Kiki went missing, no one did anything at first. His boss Jaime was the only one looking. There was more traction when I got involved. But really,” she shook her head in awe, like she still couldn’t believe it, “it’s not ‘till I lost my shit on one of the deputy directors in Mexico City that things started happening.”

Get off your ass and start helping the other agents. Go find my fuckin’ husband!

“It makes sense now, chain-of-command and all that, but if I’d known direct worked better than diplomacy, I would’ve started off yelling.”

Javi raked his hands over his face.

“So now, you need to figure out which ladder to take this up to.”

“Yeah, okay,” his palms were nearly in his eye sockets now, “so when I figure that out, you want me to what—“ then dropped them from his face with a sigh. “Parade Connie, the distraught maybe-widow in front of whatever executive leadership and hope that’ll force them to act?”

“Jesus Javi, it’s not like you’re a stage parent forcing your kid do pageants.”

“Might as well be.”

“Don’t trivialize this, okay? This could work. Connie’s more than someone’s wife. She’s a person. And she’s smart. Articulate. Not only that, she’s a blonde-haired, blue-eyed nurse for god’s sake. America’s sweetheart. And frankly, she can be convincing to whatever executive leadership in a way that you can’t. I mean, let’s face it, all your police-radio jargon, letter-of-the-law, doublespeak nonsense, none of you law enforcement guys know how to properly emote.”

Javi laughed at that such fullness and depth, Mika realized that every time she’d heard him laugh before had been nothing but a pitiful shadow, a cheap imitation of the real thing. They'd known each other for a two years. How long could it have been since he'd laughed like that?

“Okay, Press Secretary Camarena. Point taken.”

“Plus, you have a trump card this time. Something Jaime and I didn’t have.”

“Oh yeah. What’s that?”

“The myth, the legend, the man himself, Kiki Camarena. Or really, the stain on the squeaky clean record of the DoD. The death of the myth, the legend, the man.”

Javi chewed on that in silence, along with the inside of his cheek.

“Believe me, that’s a level of public scrutiny they don’t ever want to see again. They’ll avoid it at all costs. Especially if the government wants to keep selling weapons to anti-communist guerrillas. Undisturbed.”

“Jesus Mika,” Javi kicked back off the wall, eyes wide with admiration, and she could practically see the lightbulb above his head, “You really have thought this whole thing through.”

She bit back the tears welling in her eyes, an inexplicable wave of self-consciousness sweeping over her, and all she could think to do was shrug. “When someone dies, like how Kiki died, you always hear people talk about the hours they spent agonizing over it. Not sleeping for weeks, months— because you can’t help it. It’s involuntary. You think about things, replay every moment, every interaction– what could I have possibly said, done differently? What didn’t I see before it was too late?”

She swiped the tears off her cheeks and swallowed hard. He looked at her, touched by the peculiar sorrow that can only accompany surrogate grief.

“Not many people get a chance to see the ‘what-ifs’ through. Me? I’ve had seven years to think about it. What I’d do differently. And now, I can use that to protect someone I love? Shit, this?” she smiled, making a gun gesture at Javi and pulling the trigger, “pschew. This is my shot.”

Javi just looked at her, dumbstruck.

“Whatever happens, god forbid, if Steve dies, however this plays out, it sure as hell won’t be because I wasted my shot.”

With that, she turned, and walked up the stairs to the second floor.

⥈

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#narcos #narcos mexico #mika camarena #connie murphy #javier peña #mika & connie #mika x javi #fic update #new chapter #gifs by me #rip to a king kiki

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javier-djarin · 4 years

Text

Como Me Duele: Chapter 10

Ship: Javi x Reader

Rating: M

Word Count: 5,490 words

Warnings: Language, Mild Violence

Masterlist

Summary: Someone has taken Javi’s hermosa, and now he’s coming to get her. And he’s bringing hell with him.

A/N: Three more posts left. Which makes me so sad, because I loved writing this fic. Thank you again for all the love and support! Please, please, PLEASE let me know what you think. Please let me know if you want to be on my tag list! Chapter 11 coming soon! Also, there is a lot of Spanish in this one. Most of it is from the show. I apologize in advance. The translations are at the bottom.

His POV

He sat in a crumpled mess on the sidewalk looking at the suitcase that had been busted open. The blood that pooled around the suitcase had to have been her’s. He felt pain, misery, panic, and rage all at once. He wanted to scream and cry. She was gone, and the last image she had of him was Gabby’s arms around him as she kissed him. He balled his fists in his hair, hating himself even more for hurting her the same way Michael did; the same way Javi promised he’d never do. He had no one. Steve was gone tracking Escobar’s family to God knows where. He had absolutely not one person he could call for help. He gathered her things, gently folding her clothing before carrying the broken suitcase up to their apartment.

Javi set it on the dining table before taking a seat next to it. He could call Berna, unless that’s who took her. He knew Los Pepes were getting nervous the last time, since he was not as forthcoming with information like he was before. He could notify the Embassy, but they’d release it to the press, and then the kidnappers could get spooked and do something unimaginable to her. He banged his fists on the table in rage. The best thing he could do right now was use whatever resources he could find, and bring her home. He would burn Colombia to the ground if he had to, just to make sure she was safe, and he was prepared to do exactly that.

He jumped out of his seat and ran to his Jeep. He was losing precious time, so he sped to the Embassy. His tires squealed as he skid into a parking spot. “Javi,” one of the secretaries said as he blew by them. “Javi, you have a message!”

He stopped. “From who?” He spun to face her, his rage causing him to shake and tremble.

“I think you should go talk to the Ambassador,” she said softly.

Without missing a beat, he turned on his heel, bursting into the Ambassador’s office where Messina was already waiting. “Agent Peña,” Crosby said, “please, have a seat.”

“With all due respect, Ambassador, I need this to be as brief as possible.”

Messina looked at her agent and sighed. “We received a call about 20 minutes ago from Escobar.”

His face turned ghost white. “What did he want?”

“He threatened us. He wants us to pull strings to get his family into Germany. Agent Murphy is there now trying to prevent that.”

Already knowing the answer to his next question, he decided to ask anyway, “What-uh-what leverage does he have? Or did he just call and ask nicely?”

“It seems that he has a Ms. Y/N Y/L/N in his ‘protective custody’ saying when his family is safe, he will return her to us. Apparently she is an American Nurse who was down here volunteering-”

“I know who she is,” he said all too fast. “She’s,” his voice cracked, “she’s my…” the fastest way to get her back was if she was DEA. They protect their own. She may not want anything to do with him once he got her back, but right now her safety was all he cared about. “She’s my wife.”

“Agent Peña, I thought you weren’t married.”

“Recently married, Messina.” He cleared his throat and tried to calm down.

Crosby sat back in his chair and watched Peña. “Well, there’s only one problem. His family is already on a charter back to Colombia. They booked their flight late last night and will be landing here tonight.”

Javi felt his heart race. Escobar was going to kill her, and he knew it. They went after Pablo’s family, so naturally he retaliated. This was exactly why he wanted her in the states, instead of here. “Not to be crass, but how the fuck am I going to get her back?” he said through his teeth.

“We are working with Colonel Martinez to find her,” Crosby said.

“And we’re going to need you to stay here, Agent Peña,” Messina added.

His eyes immediately darted to hers. “No. Court Marshal me, send me home, but do all of that after I break that direct order. I’m going out there to find her.”

“You’re too close to this.”

“Damn right I’m too close to this, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to bring her back to me!” he exclaimed, “And if that motherfucker calls here again, I want to talk to him.”

Messina looked at Crosby for a cue. He was sitting silently, with no expression on his face as he waited for Javi to be done with his tirade. “Look, we don’t negotiate with terrorists. However, we aren’t going to abandon one of our own. Your wife is DEA. We are going to do everything in our power -”

“Please, Ambassador, cut the shit. I know this spiel. We give it to anyone who loses someone. I’m sure they gave this same talk to Mika Camarena when Kiki went missing. I’m going to go out there and find her, either on my own or with help. I’m not waiting for clearance or authorization. Her hours, no minutes are numbered.”

Messina stood up and approached Javi. “When Agent Murphy lands, we will send him in for backup. Whatever you need, let me know. You’ll have it.”

Your POV

You took a deep breath as you stood outside your apartment complex, nervous about seeing Javi and telling him the news: you were pregnant. You ran various scenarios through your head from best to worst case. You reached out for the doorknob and pushed the door open and slowly climbed the flight of stairs that led to your apartment. You were halfway up the second flight when you saw it. Javi was kissing someone. Her arms were draped over his shoulders and she held onto him like she knew him intimately. It felt like a hot knife was ripping through your body. Memories of Michael's betrayal hit you. It was happening again and this time, you didn't know if you'd survive it. The pain was almost too unbearable. You let out a loud gasp as tears welled in your eyes. He pushed her away. "Shit," he said, eyes wide, "Y/N."

You turned and bolted down the stairs. Maybe if you ran fast enough you'd catch a taxi before he got to you. Tears were blurring your vision by the time you made it outside. You thought of your child, realizing now they would never know the happiness their parents felt; he or she would be raised in a broken home. You heard tires squeal in front of you and two men run at you. You tried backing away, but your legs were already weak from grief. You dropped your suitcase and it burst open. The last thing you remembered was intense pain on the side of your head as you hit the ground.

***

You woke up a few times with a bag over your head. You were groggy and couldn’t really understand what they were saying as you drifted in and out of consciousness. Your head throbbed, obviously from the butt of a gun or something blunt that struck you. “El está loco,” You heard one of them say. “Primero esa bomba, ¿y ahora la novia de un agente de la DEA?”

“Era amigo de Carrillo. Ese hijo de puta vendrá por ella y traerá el infierno con él,” the other said.

The first one laughed. “No mierda Acabamos de firmar nuestras propias órdenes de muerte, Blackie.”

That brought you out of your grogginess. If Blackie was in the car, then the other one had to be La Quica. Or at the very least one of Pablo’s men. Your heart sank. They were going to use you as a bargaining chip. Little did they know, Javi wouldn’t come for her. Michael was right. He only sent her away so he could hook up with local… no, you thought to yourself, there has to be a reason she was there. There was no way he would do that to me. He is going to come for me. Months of living together and love making told you that he loved you too much to betray you. He would find you, even if it killed him.

His POV

He walked into the usual seedy bar to meet Berna, but this time he didn’t feel dirty about it. He didn’t care if this move cost him his career; he was going to get her back. He pulled his chair out and lit a cigarette. “No tengo ninguna información para ti, pero necesito tu ayuda,” he said.

Berna sat back and grinned. “¿Que vas a hacer por mi?”

Javi tried to hide his emotions, but his fear and anger were all over his face. “Te pagaré.”

“$50,000,” he replied.

“Trato.”

Berna shook his hand. “Escuché que Blackie y La Quica se la llevaron. Ella está en algún lugar de Bogotá.”

His heart raced. “¿Dónde?”

“Estoy...investigando.”

Javi growled and slammed the table. “En el segundo en que encuentres algo, llámame. Quiero estar ahí.”

He put out his cigarette and left the restaurant. Just as he stepped onto the sidewalk, the phone rang. “Javi,” Steve’s voice rang from the other end. “I just landed. Messina filled me in.”

“I’m on my way,” he said, hanging up the phone. Javi sat in his Jeep for a second, frustrated beyond belief. He spent the entire day looking for leads, clues, anything, but he was coming up short. No one was talking. She was sitting, God knows where, waiting. He couldn’t get the look on her face out of his head. It was pure shock and hurt when she saw Gabby kissing him. He felt a tear roll down his cheek as he started the car. “I’m on my way,” he whispered to himself.

***

Steve hopped in the Jeep and turned to Javi. “What the fuck, man?” he said, “I’ve only been gone for a day!”

Javi couldn’t turn to look at Steve. He knew if he did, he’d lose it. “I’ve got to find her,” his voice cracked.

“We will,” Steve reassured.

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel and sped down the street. “Where are we going?”

Javi didn’t answer, because he didn’t know. He just felt like if he was driving, he was doing something.

“Javi,” Steve sternly said, “Javi, pull over.”

He pulled off to the side and slammed the gear shift into park. “What!” Javi exclaimed.

Steve held his hands up in surrender. “Let’s go back to the apartment, and we will start there.”

“I already tried that,” he said, still looking at the steering wheel.

“Let’s try again. You had to have missed someone,” Steve said, “someone who was in the area.”

Javi froze. He did miss someone. Gabriela. Deep down, he knew she was part of it. She had to have been. Who else would be able to give her his address? “Fuck!” he screamed.

“What is it?”

He finally turned and looked at his partner...friend. Tears ready to spill over at the edge of his eyelids. “Gabriela,” he croaked. Steve waited patiently for Javi to explain to him who she was. “She’s a prostitute.”

“Jesus, Javi,” he said, running his hand down his face. “What did you do?”

Javi recounted how Gabriela was the one who told him about Martiza, how she’s the reason Carrillo was set up, and how she showed up at his apartment door early this morning. His voice broke so many times when he tried to tell Steve about the last time he saw Y/N’s face, just before she bolted down the stairs. “She has to hate me,” he said, “which is why I have to get her back. I have to save her if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Well, let’s start with this Gabriela. Do you know where to find her?”

He put the car in drive. “I do.”

***

They pulled in and parked on the opposite side of the street from the brothel. Javi’s phone rang before they got out of the car. “Peña,” he answered.

“Javi! I just got your message,” Connie said at the other end.

“You called my wife?” Steve said.

“I had no one else to talk to!” Javi defended, “Steve’s back. We think we’ve found a lead. I can call you back after.”

“Wait, Javi,” she said, “hand the phone to Steve.”

He did so and left the Jeep. He needed some fresh air before heading to interrogate Gabriela. He ran his hand through his hair and leaned against the vehicle, about ready to lose the rest of his mind. Every second he did nothing weighed on him. She had limited time left.

“Steve,” Connie said over the phone, crying. “You have to find her, and soon.”

“I know, Connie. What do you think we’re doing?” he sighed.

“No, you don’t understand. Steve, you can’t tell Javi. Especially now.”

“Tell him what?”

Connie took a deep breath. “Y/N is pregnant.”

“She’s what!” he exclaimed.

“Look, we were all surprised, but that’s why she went back. She came down there to tell Javi. She wanted to do it in person and to surprise him.”

“Oh, Jesus. Fuck! I can’t keep that from him,” he said.

“You have to, Steve. What good is this information going to do him now? Nothing, except drive him more insane. You get my pregnant best friend back. Be careful. I love you.” She hung up the phone, and Steve slammed his head lightly against the headrest. He climbed out of the Jeep and walked around to where Javi was standing. He stared at him with nothing but sorrow in his eyes, knowing what Javi should know.

“What?” Javi said. “What did she say?”

“How about I handle this interrogation?” Steve suggested.

His hands trembled as he wiped his face. “Okay.”

They walked into the whorehouse, instantly surrounded by girls promising a good time. Javi cornered one he knew, Vanessa. “¿Gabriela está aquí?”

“Sí, Javi. Ella esta arriba.”

“Gracias,” he added.

Steve followed Javi through the hallways and up the stairs to Gabriela’s room. He knocked first, but when there wasn’t an answer, he burst in. Steve held back for a minute. She was in the middle of a job. “¡Vete, cabrone!”

The man grabbed his clothes and ran out of the room. Gabriela smiled and made her way over to Javi. “I knew you wouldn’t stay away for long,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He grabbed her wrists, a little too hard. “Cut the shit, Gabby.”

“Javi…”

Steve stepped out of the shadows and grabbed her arm, forcing her to sit in the chair in her room. “Who gave you Javi’s address? No one knew he’d moved apartments.”

“I don’t…”

Javi stormed over to her, pressing her into the seat. “Who, Gabby!”

She started crying. “Lo siento, Javi. Lo siento mucho. Ellos iban a matarme.”

He felt a weight lift. He found his lead. His breathing began to shake as he sat down. “Where did they take her?” Steve asked, pressing the barrel of his gun to her chest.

“I-I don’t know.”

He cocked the gun. “You’re going to have to do better than that. They were going to kill you, but I will.”

“Please, I can find out.”

Javi’s head jerked up and looked at her. “Call them. Now.”

“I can’t just do that.” She started crying harder. “They’re watching you.”

Both Javi and Steve froze. “They have been since Pablo escaped prison. That’s how they knew where to hit you where it hurt.”

“Call them.” Steve pressed harder with the gun. “Now.”

She reached for the phone on the side table next to her.

Your POV

You woke again, this time with duct tape and rope around your arms and legs. You were blindfolded and strapped to a chair with a terrible headache. You head feet shuffling as they neared you. “Ella tiene una herida en la cabeza desagradable,” the man’s voice said.

“Limpiarla. Pablo quiere que enviemos un video a la embajada.,” La Quica’s voice said from across the room.

“Nosotros estamos jugando con fuego,” the voice said as he dabbed at her wound with a cloth.

You tried to move away, but he held your head in place. “Estas bien, señorita,” he said, trying to calm you.

You didn’t say anything, but instead let out a small sob. You felt another pair of hands on your face, lifting your chin up to expose your neck. “Tal vez podríamos divertirnos un poco con este después del video.”

“Por favor, no,” you begged.

“Sí. Quiero ver qué te hace tan especial para la DEA.”

“No, por favor. Estoy embarazada.”

La Quica laughed. “Limpiarla.”

His POV

Blackie. She was able to give them Blackie. She told them about Blackie’s girlfriend in Medellín. Javi and Steve walked into the Search Bloc offices to begin mapping out a plan of attack. Steve’s phone rang. “Murphy.”

“It’s Messina,” she said, “keep Peña away from the TV.”

“What happened?”

“She’s on the TV.”

Steve saw Trujillo and Peña talking, as they both rapidly walked into Martinez’s office. “You called about thirty seconds too late.”

Javi stood in shock as he watched the tape that was released this morning by the news. La Quica was laughing in the video, showing them her wounds she sustained. She cried the entire time, pleading for them to let her go. Her beautiful eyes swollen and red. One was bruised. In one final display of dominance, La Quica backhanded her to silence her. Blood dripped from her split cheek and swollen lips. Pablo’s usual reporter, Valeria Velez, was the one on TV with a screencap of his beautiful hermosa in the upper left corner. “Escobar tiene un mensaje para los responsables de mantener a su familia en peligro: Mientras mi familia esté en peligro, la tuya también. Mantener a mi familia seguro, o te enviaré su cabeza en una caja.”

Enraged, Javi grabbed the whiskey glass in front of him and threw it at the TV, shattering the glass and screen completely. Martinez and Trujillo stood back, fearing they would be the next targets. Steve came in and grabbed Javi before he destroyed anything else. “I’m going to kill those motherfuckers,” he said, “every last one of them.”

“I know,” Steve said, “starting with Blackie. Let’s catch this asshole.”

***

They walked out of Blackie’s Girlfriend’s apartment complex, defeated. They were dead. Everyone inside. Javi was almost sure that Blackie fled. He wouldn’t be coming back here, and their lead was a dead end. He punched the side of his Jeep out of frustration. He was growing restless and angry. It’d been three days since she’d been taken, and he hadn’t slept at all. How could he? She was out there, somewhere being tortured. He couldn’t afford to sleep. Steve approached him. “It looks like the work of Los Pepes.”

Javi cursed. Of course. He hadn’t given them that information, which means someone else was. “We have to find Blackie. Get him to talk.” He closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“When was the last time you slept?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll drive,” Steve said, taking the keys from him. “Sleep, at least while I drive us back.”

“I can’t sleep. Not until she’s safe.”

Your POV

“Patrón, Los Pepes se están expandiendo. Los Galones están trabajando con ellos ahora. No podemos enfrentarnos a un enemigo tan grande,” you heard La Quica say into the phone. “Sí, sí. Ella está viva. ¿Dónde? Medellín. Sí, Patrón. Gracias. Hasta luego.”

Based on the one-sided conversation you heard, you put together that you were being moved to Medellín. You felt your heart drop. You wanted to scream and cry for Javi, but you knew that would result in Quica beating you. You had no idea how long you’d been trapped here, but you were grateful they hadn’t done anything to you to hurt your child. The worst La Quica did was slap you.

You were no longer worried about yourself, but instead your baby and Javi. You knew this had to be killing Javi. He sent you away for this reason. Tears ran down your cheeks as you silently cried. You should have just called him, but instead you were selfish and wanted to celebrate with him in person. Now, he was out there somewhere looking for you, risking his life to bring you home.

His POV

They pulled into the Embassy lot as were instantly met by Messina. “We overheard some chatter,” she said.

Javi felt his heart race. “Who?”

“Quica and Escobar. They’re moving ‘precious cargo’ to Medellín tonight. We are stationing teams at the airfields. And setting up blockades at various intersections,” she added, “she won’t leave the city.”

“Messina, a word?” Steve asked.

She nodded and walked away with Steve so they were out of Javi’s earshot. “She’s pregnant.”

Messina crossed her arms. “I’ll communicate that with team leaders to make sure she walks away unharmed and stays out of the crossfire.”

Javi had already walked inside, only to be approached by Stechner, who hopped on the elevator with him. “You’re the last person I want to talk to right now,” he said, “can’t you take the stairs?”

“Remember my warning, Peña? You’re starting to make our new friends nervous. Why didn’t you tell them about Blackie?”

He turned to look at him, annoyed. “They found his family, didn’t they?”

“No thanks to you.”

Javi could feel his muscles tense up. He was already on edge and in desperate need to take his frustrations out on something. Instead, he tried to calm himself. “They go in after her, guns blazing, she could get hurt. Or worse.”

“This is bigger than your girlfriend problems.”

He grabbed him by the shirt collar and slammed him into the elevator wall. “Not for me. I will burn this fucking place to the ground to find her, and if you try to stop me, I’ll take you down with me.”

The elevator door opened and he released him. He walked to his desk. He held the picture of her he kept there, running his fingers over the glass. “Javi,” Steve said behind him, out of breath, “we got him. We fucking got him.”

He set the picture down and turned to him. “Who? Where is he?”

“Blackie.”

***

Javi and Steve were granted access to the interrogation room where they had Blackie. He was sitting there, scared. His hands were tied around his back as he sat in a metal chair looking between the two of them with wide eyes. “Ustedes no me pueden hacer una mierda,” Blackie said, ”De Greiff nos ofreció amnistía.”

“Cierto,” Javi said, leaning back on the table, “Pero tienes que hablar para conseguirlo.”

Blackie smiled. “¿Quieres negociar, gringo? Te voy a dar algo. Algo pequeño.”

Javi leaned forward, bringing his face closer to Blackie’s. “Encontraron residuos explosivos en tus manos. En tu chaqueta, en todas partes. Te culparán por esa bomba.”

His eyes grew wider, realizing he had no bargaining chips left. “No tuve nada que ver con eso.”

Javi rested his gun on his leg. “Lo sabemos. Sabemos que no fue idea tuya. Sabemos que no eres el jefe. No dejes que te culpen por esto. No dejes que te vean como el que mató a todos esos niños inocentes.”

Steve folded his arms and said, “Ayúdanos y te ayudaremos. Danos a Pablo.”

Blackie shook his head. “No puedo darte Pablo.”

Javi fired a round into Blackie’s leg, and he screamed out in pain. “¡El siguiente es para tu cabeza! ¿Dónde la están reteniendo? ¡Habla, cabrone!”

Crying through the pain, he exclaimed, “¡Yo hablaré! ¡Yo hablaré!” He pushed his gun onto Blackie’s forehead, hard, leaving an imprint in his skin. “La Quica la tiene en una casa segura en Medellín. Sabían que estabas escuchando sus conversaciones, así que la trasladaron anoche.”

Javi grabbed him by the shirt collar and shook him. “¿Dónde in Medellín?”

“Pablo está declarando la guerra a Judy Moncada. Quiere que La Quica junte tanto dinero como pueda. Probablemente esté en movimiento con él.”

Javi looked at Steve. “We need to get to Medellín. Now.” He turned back to Blackie and cocked his gun.

“Eso es todo lo que sé. Lo prometo.”

Javi put his gun back on safety and returned it to his back, tucking it safely into his belt. He looked down at the floor and saw blood pooling around Blackie��s leg. He felt nothing for the man. “¿La llevaste?”

Blackie breathed through the pain and looked up at Javier. “No tuve elección.”

He used his elbow to send a blow to Blackie’s head, knocking him out cold. Javi stormed out of the room. “Peña,” Steve said, running after him.

Javi didn’t stop.

“Dammit, Javi, wait!”

“I don’t have time to wait. Catch up,” he said over his shoulder.

Steve jogged through the corridor and caught up to him. “We gotta tell Messina. They’re sending their resources to the wrong area.”

“Fine. Go tell her. I’m heading to Medellín now.”

He let out a loud sigh and followed his partner. “I’ll call her from the road.”

***

Javi and Steve walked into the Medellín office and headed straight for Martinez. “I just got off the phone with Messina,” he said, “I’m letting you take the lead on this, Agent Peña. What do you need?”

He looked around the room at the map of Medellín on the table. “We are setting up blockades. That fucker isn’t getting out of this city. I want reinforcements here,” he pointed at 10th street, “and here,” he pointed at 32nd street. “Intel suggests these are where his largest stashes are held. If La Quica is gathering money, he’ll go to these.”

Martinez motioned to the map. “We will block intersections so he can only go certain routes out of there. He’ll drive right into our trap.”

His heart was beating so fast, he was sure that the whole room could hear him. “Do not shoot at the car,” he said, “she might,” Javi’s voice cracked, “she might be with him in the car.”

Martinez looked at him. “I cannot make promises, Peña. If he starts firing at my men, they’ve been instructed to take him out.”

“Well, instruct them to take the fight away from the car,” Javi growled, “she’s not going to die in the crossfire.”

Steve slapped Javi on the back. “We’ll get her out of there. She’s going home in one piece.”

Javi sighed. He tried to look at the bright side: they were closer to her than they had been over the last few days. However, he had this sinking feeling in his stomach that his fight to get her home was far from over.

Your POV

You’d been moved so many times over the last several hours that your sense of direction was completely thrown off, not to mention they’d blindfolded you again. This time, though, you’d been thrown into the trunk of the car, and you could hear muffled arguing coming from the cab. You felt the car jerk forward as you tried to wiggle your hands free of the zip ties they used to tie your hands together behind your back. You knew that if you could punch through the tail light, you’d be able to signal for help. You couldn’t even get your feet loose, as they were duct taped together. You did your best to remain calm as you struggled against your restraints, but you suddenly stopped when you heard the car go silent as their phone rang. “Aló. Meirda. ¿Quién es la mierda?” You heard Quica say, “Hijo de puta. ¿Quien es este?”

Your heart raced. Please be Javi, you thought to yourself. You wanted to scream so whoever was on the phone could hear you, but you feared for your life. You knew if you drew any attention to yourself, he’d kill you for certain.

Quica slammed on the brakes, and you heard them get out. There was gunfire, and so you panicked. You started tugging on your restraints more, only causing your wrists to become raw. You felt the car move as he piled back into the car and hit the gas. You slid forward, narrowly missing another head injury. You heard the phone ring again, and Quica yell something. He took a sharp right turn, and you slid into the side of the trunk, hard. Suddenly everything went black.

His POV

Javi leaned against Trujillo’s Jeep with a phone in his hand. “Now?” Steve nodded. “They’re ready.” He dialed the number he had for La Quica. It rang twice before there was an answer. “Aló.”

“Quica,” Javi said, containing his rage.

“Aló. Meirda. ¿Quién es la mierda?” He could hear his voice begin to panic.

“Hola, Quica ¿Cómo te va, amigo?” he calmly replied.

“Hijo de puta. ¿Quien es este?” Quica yelled into the receiver.

Javi took a breath before saying, “Cálmate, Quica. No te pongas nervioso. ¿Que pasa, Quica?”

“¿Quién la mierda crees que eres, perra?” Quica replied as he hung up the phone.

Javi looked over to Trujillo. “It wasn’t long enough. Call him again.” They were trying to track his cell signal to find his car from the sky.

He took a deep breath and redialed the number. “Aló,” Quica said into the phone, clearly agitated.

“Quica,” Javi said, “¿Que pasa, Quica?” Quica didn’t answer him. Javi could hear his breathing pick up. “Quica, Quica, Quica,” he added, drawing out Quica’s name to keep him on the phone longer. “¿Qué hora es, Quica? ¿Qué estás haciendo, Quica?”

There was still no answer. “Quica…”

“Bastardo,” Quica said before hanging up.

Javi glanced at Trujillo. “We got him,” he said.

Without missing a beat, Javi and Steve hopped in their Jeep. “Go right,” Javi said. Steve jerked the wheel right. “Perez, cerca de toda la 4ta calle,” he ordered over the radio. “Go straight.”

Steve obediently followed Javi’s directions. “We need to go this way to cut him off.”

A car flew by in front of them. “There! Follow him!” Steve turned right again and gassed the car. Javi could feel his heart racing. He couldn’t see anyone in the backseat of this car, but if they could get La Quica, he was one step closer to bringing her home. “Follow him!” he exclaimed again.

Trujillo came over the radio, “Todas las unidades, prepárate para la obra.”

Javi felt a few tears well in his eyes. He needed to keep a clear head, in case she wasn’t there. He was so close to finding her, and he couldn’t hold in the apprehension any more. “To the right!”

Search Bloc’s team cut off Quica, who slammed on the brakes. He took off running down the street. Javi and Steve did the same and chased after him, guns drawn. Javi fired a few times in the air, causing La Quica to hunker down and stumble a bit, but he kept running. Javi then aimed and hit him in the leg, causing him to go down and drag himself to the end of a ravine, where Search Bloc was waiting for him. Steve beat Javi to La Quica, and punched him several times. Javi pulled him off before landing a few himself. “Peña!” Trujillo exclaimed over the radio, “you better get your ass back up here.”

His heart raced to the point he thought it was going to burst out of his chest. He looked at Steve. “Don’t get your hopes up, Javi,” he said, trying to keep him level headed.

Javi knew he was right. She might not even be up there, but he ran like she was anyway. He ran as fast as he could, ready to scoop her into his arms and never let her go. He ran uphill to the cars that were blocking traffic, and immediately his heart dropped when he saw a group of Search Bloc gathered around the opened trunk. “Trujillo,” he roared.

Trujillo moved everyone out of the way as Javi ran up to the sight. His legs collapsed from under him when he saw her tied, blindfolded, and bleeding in the back of the car. She wasn’t moving, and if she was breathing, it was so faint, he couldn’t see it. He rested his head on the bumper and let out a small whimper. Steve calmly walked up behind him and rested a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at his partner before standing. Javi placed his hands under her shoulders and legs, lifting her out of the trunk, and into his lap as he sat on the curb, holding her against him. Finally, he was able to breath again.

Translations

El está loco. Primero esa bomba, ¿y ahora la novia de un agente de la DEA? - He’s crazy. First the bomb, and now a DEA agent’s girl?

Era amigo de Carrillo. Ese hijo de puta vendrá por ella y traerá el infierno con él. - He was friends with Carrillo. That motherfucker is going to come for her and bring hell with him.

No mierda Acabamos de firmar nuestras propias órdenes de muerte, Blackie. - No shit. We just signed our own death warrants, Blackie.

No tengo ninguna información para ti, pero necesito tu ayuda. - I don’t have information, but I need your help.

¿Que vas a hacer por mi? - What are you going to do for me?

Te pagaré. - I’ll pay you.

Trato. - Deal.

Escuché que Blackie y La Quica se la llevaron. Ella está en algún lugar de Bogotá. - I heard that Blackie and La Quica took her. She is somewhere in Bogota.

¿Dónde? - Where?

Estoy...investigando. - I am investigating.

En el segundo en que encuentres algo, llámame. Quiero estar ahí. - The second you find something, call me. I want to be there.

¿Gabriela está aquí? - Is Gabriela here?

Sí, Javi. Ella esta arriba. - Yes, Javi. She’s upstairs.

Gracias. - Thank you.

¡Vete, cabrone! - Get out asshole!

Lo siento, Javi. Lo siento mucho. Ellos iban a matarme. - I’m sorry, Javi. I’m so sorry. They were going to kill me.

Ella tiene una herida en la cabeza desagradable. - She has a terrible head injury.

Limpiarla. Pablo quiere que enviemos un video a la embajada. - Clean her up. Pablo wants us to send a video to the embassy.

Nosotros estamos jugando con fuego. - We are playing with fire.

Estas bien, señorita. - Everything’s fine, ma’am.

Tal vez podríamos divertirnos un poco con este después del video. - Perhaps we could have a little fun with this one after the video.

Sí. Quiero ver qué te hace tan especial para la DEA. - Yes. I want to see what makes you so special to the DEA.

Estoy embarazada. - I’m pregnant.

Escobar tiene un mensaje para los responsables de mantener a su familia en peligro: Mientras mi familia esté en peligro, la tuya también. Mantener a mi familia seguro, o te enviaré su cabeza en una caja. - Escobar has a message for those responsible for keeping his family in danger: While my family is in danger, so is yours. Keep my family safe, or I will send you her head in a box.

Patrón, Los Pepes se están expandiendo. Los Galones están trabajando con ellos ahora. No podemos enfrentarnos a un enemigo tan grande. Sí, sí. Ella está viva. ¿Dónde? Medellín. Sí, Patrón. Gracias. Hasta luego. - Los Pepes are expanding. The Gallons are working with them now. We cannot take on an enemy this large. Yes, yes she is alive. Where? Medellín. Yes, boss. Thanks. See you later.

Ustedes no me pueden hacer una mierda. De Greiff nos ofreció amnistía. - You guys can't do shit to me. De Greiff offered us amnesty.

Cierto. Pero tienes que hablar para conseguirlo. - That's right. But you have to talk to get it.

¿Quieres negociar, gringo? Te voy a dar algo. Algo pequeño. - You want to negotiate, gringo? I’ll give you something. Something small.

Encontraron residuos explosivos en tus manos. En tu chaqueta, en todas partes. Te culparán por esa bomba. - They found explosive residue on your hands. On your jacket, everywhere. They're going to blame you for that bomb.

No tuve nada que ver con eso. - I had nothing to do with that.

Lo sabemos. Sabemos que no fue idea tuya. Sabemos que no eres el jefe. No dejes que te culpen por esto. No dejes que te vean como el que mató a todos esos niños inocentes. - We know that. We know it wasn't your idea. We know you're not the boss. Don't let them blame you for this. Don't let them see you as the one who killed all those innocent children.

Ayúdanos y te ayudaremos. Danos a Pablo. - Help us help you. Give us Pablo.

No puedo darte Pablo. - I can’t give you Pablo.

¡El siguiente es para tu cabeza! ¿Dónde la están reteniendo? ¡Habla, cabrone! - The next one is for your head. Where are they keeping her? Talk, Cabrone!

“¡Yo hablaré! ¡Yo hablaré! La Quica la tiene en una casa segura en Medellín. Sabían que estabas escuchando sus conversaciones, así que la trasladaron anoche. - I'll talk. I'll talk. La Quica has her in a safe house in Medellín. They knew you were listening to their conversations, so they moved her last night.

¿Dónde in Medellín? - Where in Medellín?

Pablo está declarando la guerra a Judy Moncada. Quiere que La Quica junte tanto dinero como pueda. Probablemente esté en movimiento con él. - Pablo is declaring war on Judy Moncada. He wants La Quica to gather as much money as he can. She's probably on the move with him.

Eso es todo lo que sé. Lo prometo. - That’s all I know. I swear!

¿La llevaste? - Did you take her?

No tuve elección. - I had no choice.

Aló. Meirda. ¿Quién es la mierda? - Hello? Shit. Who the fuck is this?

Hola, Quica ¿Cómo te va, amigo? - Hello, Quica. How’s it going, friend?

Hijo de puta. ¿Quien es este? - Motherfucker. Who is this?

Cálmate, Quica. No te pongas nervioso. ¿Que pasa, Quica? - Calm down, Quica. You don’t need to be nervous. What’s up, Quica?

¿Quién la mierda crees que eres, perra? - Who the fuck do you think you are, bitch?

¿Que pasa, Quica? ¿Qué hora es, Quica? ¿Qué estás haciendo, Quica? - What’s up, Quica? What time is it, Quica? What are you doing, Quica?

Bastardo. - Bastard

Tag List

@magneticbucky @larakasser @pedropascalownsmyheart @wander-lustbabe @frietiemeloen

#Javier Pena #Javier Peña #Javier Pena x Reader #Narcos #Como Me Duele

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