The Guadeloupe Squadeloupe

Chapter XXXIX: Guad

"Guad squad out!" Cheers Bob, shamelessly shining a lantern in foreboding darkness.

. . .

Cool wind gusts blow through the Casablanca breezeway. They tug at the edge of my thin shirt, but I don't shiver. Growing up at one of the southernmost points on the planet does that to a person.

But I don't get any chance to sit and cry about my childhood as Perry walks over and brings me to the front of the squad. "We're going to jog to the nearest parking lot, alright?"

Verdad, I think, waving for the rest to follow us.

The woolen soles of my moccasins have been worn down so much I can feel the cobblestone beneath my feet as we jog through Guayabitos, the night sky looming over us. I can hear little but the light pattering of our feet and the distant noises of people partying. Even the ocean seems to have lost its sound here in the streets.

It doesn't take long to find a parking lot; Mexico is full of beaten up pick up trucks just waiting around.

We scatter and peer into all the windows of the cars without a word. As I glance into each, I notice something they all seem to have in common.

"They're all stick shifts!" Exclaims Perry.

At first I think it's part of my imagination (although I barely have one), but I think I see Alice nod to Janis while Janis shakes her head.

"Guad, you're from Chile," says Diana. "Do you drive a stick?" My face flushes with red.

"I've only driven once or twice," I admit. "I haven't had much need to."

"Janis does!" Alice yells quickly before getting slapped in the face by her sister.

"Sweet! Let's go then!" Concludes Perry. Grinning, he continues to search around the cars.

"Only a few times, Alice!" Protests Janis.

As the squad tries to figure out how to break into one of the cars, my eyes spy a man walking to a large van, his silhouette barely visible against the dark sky.

Before I know myself what I am doing, my hand moves slowly to my waist and pulls out my pistol. The ignorant and ignoring airs of my friends drown in my ears.

"Senor!" I shout, cocking my gun. Guad, this isn't the kind of person you were meant to be, says a voice in my head. It reminds me vaguely of my mother. But look who she turned out to be. A member of HEXA.

I stride to him, keeping my barrel directly in line with his skull. It's alright, Guad, you're doing this to get away from HEXA. It's justified. And it's not like you're going to kill him. He just needs a little persuasion.

The man, who can't be younger than 50 years old, kneels down and puts his hands up in the air. "Por favor," he pleads, beginning to explain in Spanish that he has a family. Here I am. I don't have a family, but I'm taking away one of the only thing this guy has. No, Guad, you have to do this. You have to steal this car.

I turn my head away and shut my eyes tightly for a moment. It's not real. You're not holding an innocent man at gunpoint. You haven't killed people before.

"Los llaves!" I bark, trying to sound as menacing as I can.

"Guad?" Diana asks faintly somewhere behind me. What example are you setting?

The jingle of car keys as they hit the ground. The heavy sound of my own breath.

Keeping my head faced away, I tell the man in Spanish that I will give him money in the future. I can't just steal his car without giving anything back. Although I've never owned enough money to pay for a car in my life. I suppose Bob's inheritance will be taking care of me for a long time. "Que es su nombre?" I ask, this time trying to sound kind.