Thread: a national dialogue [ft. xanaphia & november]

Well, she was smart, wasn't she? Going right for the head of the snake. No matter which arguments were made, he was going to make the final decision, and she was at manipulating him. He chewed the inside of his cheek. He supposed everybody in his inner circle had to get SOME kind of talent for it. Why do you have to be so dramatic? He shot Fernie an annoyed look. Why the fuck was he getting her worked up anyway? Nobody putting you in a safe anything. What was the point of shashing anybody away in a situation like this, anyway? If he was getting deposed, Martiza would just be another loose end anyway. And if he wasn't - and he wasn't - it would all be an overreaction. You can come with me for this whole thing, he said smoothly. See how we handle business. Can you afford that right now? The smallest stress was coming into Fernie's voice. All of these... He waved his hand back and forth in Maritza's general direction, as if looking for the perfect word to describe her, distractions are what got you into trouble in the first place. Ferdinand, my patience is at the razor's edge right now. AND we're going to have to go through the prison on the way out, and the people there are going to remember her face. That was, what, his ace in the hole? He folded his arms and looked Maritza up and down before working the combination on a heavy metal door. We're past that shit now. This isn't a situation that can be walked back or forgotten about. Fucking national dialogue. He felt like a laughingstock even trying to make peace with the old guard. He heard a satisfying click and slowly pulled the door backwards. Sound came rushing in, echoing off the stone walls. The cells down here were alive with chatter, stomping, applause, jeering. Only about twenty cells, lining both sides of the walls, only a few of the most high leverage prisoners. And yet they'd heard about Urbina's move. He sneered. The rot was deeper than he thought. Just stay calm, Fernie said into his ear. These people are going to try and get under your skin, especially since you pulled Juan out of the cell tonight. You don't have even a minute to spare on - And it was too late. He was in front of Simon Furriel before Fernie could even finish the sentence. Somehow, one of these guards had risked a bullet in the head to sneak him his old uniform, or something like it, worn out and frayed at the ends but still dignified because of the stiff-necked, beared man in front of him. His hair was silver with splotches of white, and his skin was wrinkled and splotched with too much sun in the wrong places at the wrong times... but his posture and vacant smile still brought to mind the international war criminal. The Butcher of Boquita Bay. This must be a happy day for you. It is, he said, nodding casually and leaning towards the bars. Never set expectations too high. Whenever you outlive your enemies, it's a good day. I taught you that when you were, knee high. His gaze flickered towards the girl. You ain't fucking outliving me. What if I take my pistol and blow your brains onto that wall behind you? He raised a finger. I don't think you've got the time, my boy. I'm not your boy. Or the excess bullets. He kept looking at Martiza, bobbing his head up and down. Looking at her tits he guessed. Speaking of... it gave him a good idea. He grabbed Mariza by the shoulders and put her right between him and the prisoner. You just relax right here. See, this big bad butcher, he's not the kind of man who would ever put his hands on a woman. That was why he was in there, and Antonio was out here. But no need to rub in that little tidbit.