I strolled leisurely, appreciating the growing darkness of night. Satisfied… maybe? The expanding silence magnified the solitude I felt. Half of me was regretful, the other half… felt to a certain degree… Liberated.

The sunlight deviated into a shade of an orange-yellow, mirroring the new balance created inside me. Step after step, in the direction of the port, I walked towards my next rendezvous point for another battle.

Numb, I was from the earlier clash of emotions, the consequence of what I had set myself up against, next, swallowed by overwhelming hunger, perhaps a rare kind of emptiness.

Nothing transcended the importance of satiating them.

My vision turned vague, the obscure touch of night play with its accuracy, yet that dark green uniform seized my undivided interest. Never will I confuse that shade of green, never. Once I bore it, not long ago, in my glorious days of the past.

As the distance between us thinned, my pace sped. Restless. My chest heaved, simultaneously, in nervous excitement and budding discomfort, announcing my return to reality. I clenched my fists, restraining any foolish rush. In the end, my next battle was up against the embodiment of my grandfather's prestige.

From afar, he stood motionless, his hands inside his pockets, completely defenseless. He looked at me with familiar indifference, accompanied by some kind of hidden pity, like always.

How many times did I visualize my retaliation against him? Confronting him now, why was my mind blank? Why were my arms frozen? Oh God, where were all those insults and blames that I spent days preparing for him?

I halted at a safe distance. We exchanged stares in flowing quietness. Lasted for… an eternity. In this world of ours, lacking proper communication, the only noise came from the outside.

One of us needed to speak, one of us must weave the first threads for proper communication. Or we will stand like this the whole night.

A procession of trucks cut this everlasting ritual. My ego found solace in surveying them. Or maybe it was an excuse to escape his gaze. Then one of Jacob's hands landed on my shoulder, freaking me. “Let's change the location.”

The profile of his face was drenched in shadows. I didn’t see how he approached me, and just because of the impact of the shock, I followed him like an obedient dog.

Shame on me, I can only be mean to girls? I deserved more than one slap.

In our quest for a private place, my observational quirk woke up, shutting down the shame sensation. Finally, relevant questions began popping around in every corner of my head. Why did he choose this place to meet? Why this time of day precisely?

His back was in front of me. Not slow, nor fast, he kept the lead. The wrinkles of his uniform changed through the alteration in his movements. On this path, I spotted several cameras covering the passages. In the first few moments, I questioned Jacob's nonchalance. Why did he come here wearing his uniform?

Wasn't he afraid of the surveillance system, registering the prints of his face while wearing the military dress?

Left, right, we zigzagged across the narrow paths created by huge containers, cargo, heavy lifters… He seemed to have a destination in mind. And yet, my insight tumbled over another doubt. Why was he so familiar with these port passages? As if he knew them as if he was a native dweller of this ever changeable maze.

Into a safe sanctuary, our presence got concealed. Once down, the noise of the exterior world drove to a degree of extinction. The wave of polluted sea punished the human-made stairs where we stood, the only sound deserving an appreciation.

Beneath my feet, I appraised the blue water. Mesmerized by the repetitive motion of its tiny waves, I squatted down, stretching my hand to touch it. The tips of my fingers became wet, also my mental restrictions. Between each inhale and exhale sneaked out pieces of frustration venting my upside-down turned life, my upside-down turned plans, mixing with failure on my features. Then the wrong words left my mouth without evaluation:

“You planned this from the start.” Another wave, high enough to wash my fingers. “Have you planned to frame me since the day you offered me to accompany you in the helicopter?”

My back was to him, making the confrontation easier. Still, waiting for the response that didn’t come, the urge to punch him flared inside my heart, stronger than before. I knew any physical conflict with him, right now, right here, will end up in my drowning. However, I made up my mind that being buried within this melancholic water wasn’t such a terrible death.

Then, in a click of a second, my flying wrist was trapped under pressure threatening to break it. My quick blow blocked midair before reaching its goal. Jacob stood one step ahead of me, one step above me, “It wasn’t out of the pureness of your heart, you only wanted someone to replace you in babysitting Olvera that’s why you offered to take me with you at the same time you were escorting him. You planned this all cleverly, so every move I made falls into your desired scheme.”

"You didn’t answer my calls, because you know that I will go after August, in order to facilitate the process of contacting you. While you told August that I will be the one to reach him first to start my duties."

Jacob's expressions, unmoved, akin to static sculpture. Full of prestige and reverie. While the pain possessed my face, twisting parallel to the force, he applied to secure my wrist. Pressing hard in one go, then releasing slowly. Enjoying the procedure, he kept testing the extent of my endurance.

I was already aware of my declining fitness. This interaction made Jacob aware of it too, and soon my father will be. On my next visit home, if there ever will be a next one, I will need to be ready for an upcoming lengthy lecture. But in this instant… “You didn’t care how risky the situation you let me in.”

“What are you talking about? What kind of risk I got you in. ” He didn’t release my arm until he was certain of my neutralized attack, “I admit, even temporarily, I hated playing guard to the Olvera boy, yet the one who decided this job for you wasn’t me.” His voice was torn by a sort of resentment. It felt weak, nevertheless present. This was our first exchange of coherent sentences and the longest.

Even so, If my glare could be translated into a dagger, he would be pierced by thousands of cuts.

"I don't understand where all this anger comes from? I bet this would not be your reaction if I was Alfred." He questioned, and he sounded so damn serious.

Anger melted into hesitation, I stood aghast, fixing his grave expressions under the low light, digesting what he said. No wonder we didn't talk much. He appeared disappointed as if I had let him down while we weren’t even on the same page… How come Alfred became the center of this dispute?

As always, he didn't wait enough for the counter-attack, just turned and climbed up the stairs. The flash of his quick gaze held the shining melancholy of disappointment. Yet he paused after two steps, then turned back, settling for a watch from above, like a judge or priest wanting a confession from a wrongdoer.

In those few moments, my legs hardly moved to climb up the stairs with him for he seemed extra intimidating being at a higher level than me, even lifting my head to confront him or thinking straight about what he meant after those ambiguous words of his, they consumed all my courage. Leaving me speechless.

In the end, I chose to stand motionless where I was, nearest to the tinted blue water. Arranging the storm of thoughts breaking into my mind. I was afraid he would leave before I would sort anything out in my head, hence I blathered the first sentence that came to my lips. “What does Alfred have to do with this matter? Regardless, Alfred is smarter than forsaking his little brother just to shake off an unpleasant task.”

For him, I must have sounded like a croaking crow. Considering the pronounced syllables were delayed as slowly as I could speak them, to gain as much as time I will get for my reflection to sort things out.

His weight shifted to one of his legs, his head turned upfront, allowing the shadows of the upcoming night to eat his face. I sensed the thin bridge of communication between us crumpling, gradually. How could it not when the anger and blame were the only things that supported it.

“I was framed for a first-degree murder,” I screamed out of fear of his egocentric departure. “Did you know that?” At least, He stopped, our gaze aligned again, but only silence birthed with this connection.

“Yes, I know.”

The mysterious touch I perceived from his composed tone sent a chill over my body. It was an ominous feeling, like an electric shock, like a lightning strike, concealing a vague feeling of pity directed at me. And with an accumulated control, he echoed. “Of course, I know... Everybody knows.” I can tell that those words were chewed hard and long before he kicked them out as he exhaled.

A strange calm spread around the edges, whereas the sound of small waves hitting the stony stairs slimmed. The sun disk was finally swallowed by the night. My heart skipped beats, so insignificant, I felt compared to where Jacob stood. I understood what he implied by "everybody knows." Certainly, Not my friends and colleagues, not the campus, not even the whole city. What he meant by ‘everybody knows.’ was one of my worst fears being incarnated.

“Did you know why General McCarthy stayed put while you were causing him disgrace here and there to selfishly feed your own ego?” A long pause trailed behind the last tone, seeking, a justification, an apology… I didn’t know…

When he confirmed I had nothing to deflect or defend myself with, he resumed, his tone dressed yet again a letdown timber. “It doesn’t matter anymore,” hand fanned nonchalance, back turning once more, legs climbing up the stairs, “August Olvera's wellbeing is your responsibility now.”

Trapped between shame and rage, I bit my lower lip. I hated the fact, him, retreating triumphed, obtaining what he set himself to get while leaving me wallowing in the despair of my naive faith in our brotherhood.

“I know it.” I yelled for him to hear me, bloating a mouthful of sarcasm in my tone, “You planned all of this to get me to babysit the Olvera boy in your place.” Yet it was useless, as he continued moving coolly, indifferent to my retaliation.

transforming my anger into grenades blowing up without a prior thought. “You always hold yourself high and mighty above odious conduct, forever detesting and dining Alfred methods for you always said he is a calculative jerk. Aren’t you using those same methods? such hypocrisy…”

Jacob's elegant retreat came to an abrupt halt. A spectrum of flames danced across his eyes as he fixed me with a side look, it quickly subsided under strong self-restraint. I know what ticked him most, nothing successful like motioning Alfred then comparing them together in one sentence.

“Aren’t you the worst kind of hypocrites? Dating the daughter of a traitor?'' To my surprise, He closed the distance that separated us, in a blink of an eye. Smoke floated with his words, generating a surge of gooseflesh beneath my clothes. In front of this tsunami of rage, strings of dread and stress played their symphony on my face. I wished I could run, as fast as I could, as far as I will be able to. But, how? When the ocean one a step behind my back, thus I resigned to take my last breath.

My eyelids locked my vision, I anticipated him pushing me to the water, it won’t cost him much effort for I was neutralized by fear. Yet that light tap didn’t reach my body. The next second I opened my eyes to check on him. I was greeted by the silhouette of Jacob bathing in the glassy light of the sky. He looked like the spirit of an old warrior looking down on me with reverence. Discarding my pitiful attempt to provoke him. Even the cold shine of the moon made him seem as if he had risen alone from a fierce battle.

I did not dare to stare much longer, I quickly tried to retreat unaware of the nonavailability of space under my feet. Then the unbalance of my weight dragged me into a fall.

Similar to the anticipated push that didn’t come, the taste of the polluted salty water didn’t reach my skin. While I was suspended in the air, Jacob's hand holding my arm helped in restoring my balance. “I didn’t expect that you will be so stupid to run yourself straight into their trap. If you had someone to blame, blame your own inability to understand your circumstances.”

As I crouched beside him, grateful for his help but never unmindful of his slander. “I didn’t want to lose the small trust I had built using the Marchetti, however, I didn’t expect I would be framed with a first-degree murder. I didn't expect this level of boldness”

“Such a level of boldness? From a traitor? Is there anything more bold?” Jacob's tone carried an apparent sarcasm, “No matter how much secrets you divulge to them for their trust, as long as you hold the McCarthey in your name they will use you, but never trust you.” I expected every bit of Jacob's reaction. I thought he would scoff at my naivety, endlessly. I thought he would turn back, climb up the stairs and never look back again, ..

Though…

“They were probably using you as much as you were thinking that you are tricking them.” He added...

Though…

I never expected him to push me into the cold water.

It tasted like oil, except it was salty, cold, and filthy. The unforeseen impact caused dullness in my perception, also a serious sluggishness in my movements. The duration that took me to recover the control was enough for Jacob to reach the level ground and walk away.

My clothes weighed heavier on the dry land, colder under the breeze. Should I be angry, should I be regretful? At that moment, I didn’t feel anything, only a vague numbness, in my mind and on my body.

When I reached the level ground, the salty water drew a long mark commemorating my footpath. It got thinner and drier as I pushed on. Maybe I was faster than I imagined. But that green uniform beneath the moonlight looked darker. Both of his hands rested in his pockets, Jacob's steps were slow. Slow as though he was waiting for me to catch up.

The warmth in my body was sucked up, every inch of my body began shivering, only out of the stubbornness I kept going. He was still a few steps ahead of me. However, I was close enough to hear him. “If I didn’t send someone to get you out of the interrogation room, what were you going to do?”

“I planned my own alibi.” I refused to let him claim credit for my release, thus my voice echoed loud, compared to the miserable state I was in.

“Hmm…” his head leaned to the side, allowing the flash of mockery on his face, an ambiguous visibility, “the McCarthy control of this city is very limited, didn’t you expect whoever orchestrated the play will temper with whatever evidence you have planned and forge others that condemn you as long as you were tied in the interrogation room?” Then he straightened forward, rectifying “But I guess Evelyn won’t stand still…”

I rolled my eyes, somehow he became extremely talkative today. All critical and preachy. A rare conduct from a stoic individual. On the other hand, the smug face with golden glasses and all know it smiles emerged over a white background within my imagination. Was Mr. Macias a friend or foe? He was too wicked to pass as a friend.

“Anyway, you should thank August for pulling some strings to get you out of the interrogation room quickly.”

This sentence startled me as if Jacob was aware of what was on my mind. Perhaps he felt guilty hence he is sharing information? Or he wanted me to see how much the Olvera boy is generous and willing to help, so I will gladly become his lapdog? Did he still consider me the gullible five-year-old boy whom he used to bully and scare?

Mistaken was Jacob if he thought that I will be grateful. In the end, thanks to August I got myself a far superior wolf to be alert of.

Hum… right now, I had nothing to fight with. Nothing to ask more for. I will just gulp up the insult for the sake of the big picture of that day starting to reveal itself. Connecting loose ends, One thread at a time…

While we walked, the silence shrouded us along with the darkness of night. The noise of workers and machines reduced, Jacob reverted to his self-reserved mood, thus the only sound reverberated from our steps. I couldn't muster the courage to ask him for further clarification. How much I craved to find out the extent of his insight into me and Evelyn's plan? Since he motioned her name, he must have an inkling of what we had set ourselves up.

Whereas, It was easy to deduce from where he got the details about my relationship with Anna. Certainly, August's assistant ran her mouth without reserve.

The cold finally reached my brain, freezing my every sense, confined me into a world limited to my own thoughts.

I didn’t notice Jacob stopping, thus I crashed into his back. Confused, I suspected something related to the uniform he wore must have caused this abrupt stop. Since we were at the port exit. “What?” in my question sipped a bit of delirium.

“I heard Marchetti is in a coma.” His voice expressed some kind of revelation, opening a subject I wished to explore, albeit not in this unfavorable condition, “was it your doing?” His head inclined slightly to the side so he could examine my reaction through the corner of his eye. He didn’t wait for my confirmation or denial, just believed whatever it was threaded by his logic, “What if your girlfriend finds out?”

Again he didn’t wait and moved up ahead, preventing me to sense the pity soiling the apathetic image of a solemn soldier.

It always marveled me, Jacob's personality and character, was he cruel, was he caring?. Was he selfish, was he generous? It was a mystery that had yet to be solved. He certainly didn’t appreciate showing a lot of emotions, especially positive ones. However, sometimes the mercy in his heart transcended his perfect image of cold indifference.

At this instant, as his profile strayed away further and further, eaten by the solitude of shadows. A wave of warmth climbed my skin, its source was a shame hidden deep in my heart, a disgrace directed at myself, at my thoughts and suspicions. How could I doubt him being part of the accusation ploy, while he didn't need to. He could force me to be the next babysitter for the Olvera boy with a mere glare?

Jacob’s silhouette paused again, then the entire of his frame turned back. Face to face. Kind of creepy sensation nipped at my heart. Akin to the pride of being acknowledged. The distance between us wasn’t considered long or small. Though because of my sorry state, I was afraid I won’t be able to hear him in this rare instant of us transcending the communication barrier that was assembled over years.

The elation encouraged a sudden rush to get closer. My legs strode, one after another, thirsty for whatever he was going to say.

“You have become a target now?”

My teeth ground, desperately fighting the cold. Yet my arms involuntarily crossed tightly, restraining the bit of the fading heat. I probably sounded like a clown, despite it rung so smug in my imagination. “I suspected that I would become a target since I decided to return home for the holiday.”

A long gaze of a complete doubt thrown in a straight direction. I received its weight on my chest. The hit was heavy as well as it broke down the feeble bridge connecting us. Demanding a convincing answer to the following question: If you were aware of being targeted how come you let yourself into an obvious trap? Albeit he avoided to voice it out loud.

The irony halted the conversation flow. Wrong move. If it was Alfred or Evelyn, they have already started a subtle interrogation to estimate the accuracy of my words. But Jacob wasn’t Alfred or Evelyn. Our foreign intimacy here ended its boundaries.

Clueless to whatsoever happening behind me, the awkwardness consumed the remains of my dignity. Afraid to utter another unfit sentence, I adhere to the closed lips solution. Allowing the silence authority a comeback. The background noise of the engines governed our world, anew. The problem… It got louder and louder as if we were on a highway, or a car was going to hit us.

The shadows wrapping Jacob’s silhouette brighten gradually with an approaching faded light. Parallel to the background noise. My heart tightened, I turned around. The blast as I faced the flashlight sealed my vision.

Is this a hit and run?

Are they going to kill us?

How did they learn of the meeting place and time?

It was too late to run away, however, my arms automatically shielded my face. Equal to death cry, the impact of air, the blow of the engine paused at a needle width from my body.