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Author: Guede Mazaka
Rating: PG
Pairing: None. Barillo gen.
Disclaimer: Never mine, always R. Rodriguez's, dammit.
Feedback: Yes, please. Whatever you can spare.
Summary: One step on Barillo's road. Gift drabble for reservoir_dog in thanks for the icon.
***
People tell of the mariachi, but Barillo is a legend, too. He's just so close that they can't look high enough to see it.
All cartel men start out low. Barillo ate rags one day. He shot a man the next, and the day after that, he became the youngest hitman in Mexico. But his greatest trick has been to make everyone, even his home village, forget that. Wipe out the existence of himself, and still live to run the business. Not tell the tale, because he's not stupid, compadre. He's never told anyone, not even his beautiful daughter who's grown up better than a son.
He feels for her sometimes, watching her struggles with the idiots of the land. The old ways that he keeps to now, the elegant house and the artwork and the piano, they all say he should keep her safe in the kitchen. But Mexico has no pity on anyone no matter where they be, and so he lets her fight. He forgets the small bright-eyed girl and thinks on her hardening gaze with pride.
There's a man down south who dares call Barillo less than he is. Thief, murderer-those are titles he will accept. But criminal? Who is so stainless that he may cast the stone? A threat to the family? Well, El Presidente is threatening Barillo's, and something must be done.
People must be made to see.
***