Chapter 100: The hitman



"That story began way back when I was a tiny stupid kid. Though... Alright, I will tell you just the gist of it."

Rafael walked to the couch opposite of Tristan's and flopped down on it, then sat with his head propped on his hand.

"I grew up in a poor place, and there was a lot of cartel business around, always recruiting people, always doing shady stuff. Luckily, I got opportunities to escape all that shit. Had talent, got fame, a decent contract—the works. Even got a U.S. passport eventually."

Tristan nodded. "And you have dual citizenship now."

"Yes, because I still have family there! And I can't bring them all here." Rafael slammed his fists on his knees. "God dammit, I tried! But even with the fame I got, I can't bring them all! My granny won't come even if she wanted to—she'd rather die than leave the house her husband built!"

Tristan understood immediately, but still listened as Rafael ranted on.

"Those fucking bastards! As soon as I hit it big, Angulos got their claws into my family and threatened to harm them if I didn't do what they wanted! I can't do more against them than I can piss against the wind! The police, the law—they all are worthless. Hell, if someone can do shit to help, it has to be someone like you!"

Tristan made an appropriately sympathetic face.

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"You must have an amazing family."

Rafael chuckled and showed a strained but genuine grin.

"Of course. They are the best, all of them. Americans can't even imagine what kind of family people like I have. We might've been poor before I hit it big, but we all helped each other out: the siblings, the uncles and aunties, the cousins... I wish I could visit them without Angulos."

'I really don't get this guy. One brother is already too much... Well, at least his motivations are easy to understand.'

"And what about the things Angulos made you do?"

Rafael pursed his lips.

"You can't let them know I told you. Throw me under the bus, fine—but if my family is implicated!—"

After sneaking through the hallway past the irresponsible security guard, Tristan re-emerged in the main hall, feeling light on his feet.

His task was completed successfully and without a hitch! The results weren't so bad, too, even if the information Rafael could give Tristan immediately was mostly useless.

He messaged his subordinates that the task ended successfully and there was no need to intercept Big Rocket anymore, but they should stay around for now, just in case.

'Actually drinking something tonight will be a wonderful end to the night, and won't harm me. I'm going to leave in a taxi, anyway. I can almost feel sorry for the guys who are standing outside, in the wind, waiting for me to return...'

But that made Tristan's desire to have a drink for the road even stronger.

With that reasoning, Tristan went to the bar.

***

The assassin placed a tray full of snacks at another table full of famous bitchy and drunk people and ran off before they could order him around even more.

He was sick of being here. But he was lucky to be here at all!

He had to go as low as buying a set of clothing similar to the uniform of local waiters, sneak around to the back entrance, and walk in together when the rush among the staff reached its peak.

Everybody was so busy keeping up with orders and organization of everything that the assassin easily swiped a waiter's badge. Then he was taken in as one of their own...

And sent doing menial tasks!

At least Tristan Hayes was there, even if the assassin only got glimpses of him before he was shouted at and told to do more menial tasks.

But now the assassin saw his chance.

Hayes, all on his own, ordering a drink in the bar.

The assassin who might have been, or might have been not, the real No Hope, abandoned his duties as a definitely fake waiter and made his move.