When young DEA agent Elena Villarreal searches for the help of a retired compatriot (the famous man who took down two of Colombia's biggest cartels), to catch the gang leader "El Pinzón", all the missing pieces of her puzzle start to fall in place...
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La Paz, Baja California Sur (1981)
I can perfectly recall the warm sand beneath me, rough and wet, stuck between my toes as I walked through the shore; wind in my hair, salty from the sea that would occasionally dampen my feet, the heat from the sun on my skin and, above all, my dad's big hand wrapped around my own.
"¿Por qué tenemos que hablar en inglés?" I remember asking. "Estamos en México."
"I want you to learn," he replied, smiling down at me. Though he wasn't really old, one could still make out the wrinkles around his eyes from his constant beaming. "Your mom and I want to send you to the United States in a few years."
"Will I be living with you?" I wondered in excitement, voice squealing. "Please, say yes!"
"Maybe... Depends on my job." He stopped moving all of the sudden, gripping my sandals on his left hand and forcing me to stay still and peer toward him. "Pero tienes que aprender bien el idioma, María Elena. I don't want anyone to question if you really deserve to be there. I don't want anyone calling you names. I want you to study and... Have an opportunity to grow, get a nice job and–"
"Get married?" His face paled at my inquiry, gaze studying my features attentively. "Me gustaría casarme... Algún día."
My dad shook his head effusively, kneeling to get at my height. His brown skin, hardened by the sun, bore all sort of expression lines; his hair, short and greying, fell graciously on his forehead as he grinned tenderly. His eyes, big and intensely dark one could almost think they were black, identical to mine, stared at me with the most sweet adoration.
"Mi dulce niña," he caressed my cheek with the palm that was previously holding mine, gently swiping the hair out of my face that had loosed from my braids. "Don't say that... You're too young. I would hate to see you marry... Cause that would mean you're gonna leave me behind. ¿Y quién me alegrará los días? ¿Quién me hará sonreír el corazón sino es mi princesita? You'll forget all about your old man."
I remember the stabbing feeling of betrayal that his words gave me, "I would never forget you. Never, ever."
"You will," he said, voice shaking. "It's how life works, Elena. One day you'll find someone that will love you unconditionally and who you'll share that feeling with... When that day arrives, I want you to be the best version of yourself. I want you to be proud of who you are and where you come from; to regret nothing. I want you to be happy and share that happiness with the person you chose to spend your life with."
I also recall the abrasive sensation of perplexity that his words brought upon me, "How will I know...?" I asked, dragging the words, forging the foreign language out my mouth. "Who this person will be?"
