The Untouchables

22. Winner

I light my joint, swinging my legs in the warm water of my pool. It's a sunny day on my beautiful island, naked princesses walk around and show off their perfect smiles while my men prepare the banquet for my birthday party.

I raise my chalice and a waiter hurries to fill it with first class wine.

"Yesterday, two of our closest collaborators died. I'd like to pay them my respect by drinking all together in their name. Today is dedicated to Gabriela Lopez and Carlos Quintero. Cheers!" I raise my chalice and so do my guests. This birthday will be a fucking funeral, but funerals aren't always bad news.

The old drug lords are dead and left their throne to the younger generations. And of course, I'm the only elder left, the one that everybody will look up to. I'll just have to make sure they'll keep their head low in my presence, always.

Soon the smaller cartels and the new ones will come to my party and we'll talk business. I should just choose the best ones, very easy. Why search for food when it comes to you by itself? Everything is fucking easy when everyone else choose life's impossible challenges and play them for you. You just need to wait, playing in hard mode and chilling while your money and the people you buy with it build your empire. All you have to do is agree, give permission, appreciate the work of your life knowing that you're the only one that one day will be remembered.

I think I won't turn myself in before my 70th birthday though. History repeats itself, and I'll be the name that everyone will unwillingly keep in their mind even if they won't know who I've been and what I've done for the world. There are legends of music, cinema, and I'll be the one of crime after my dear old Columbian friend Pablo.

As I observe the beauty of my angels and my own paradise, two cops steal the scene.

"We're sorry for your loss, patrón," one says.

"Thanks. Lopez and Quintero were really good friends; I wish I could say they deserved better... Anyway, is it done?" I ask, smoking my joint.

"Yessir. Quintero has been dismembered by sharks, Lopez's corpse has been tossed in a pit in the woods."

"Fair enough." I dismiss them with a gesture of my hand and go back to heaven.

But hell comes knocking at my doors. Well, actually he comes yelling at me.

"¡Cabrón! Where the fuck are my receipts?!" Miguel Camarena asks, striding to me.

"Don't give me a headache on my birthday, you bastard!" I yell at him, laying on my back.

"You gave me Quintero's fortune after I got out of prison. How do I manage his organization if I don't even know who paid me and who didn't? I won't be grateful to you forever, Rafa. If you mess with me, we're done!"

"Shut up and chill, my friend. What happened to the receipts this time?"

"The truck that was delivering them got into an accident. Everything inside of it has been lost, destroyed. It's gone! Someone has to pay for that, responsible or not for it."

I burst out laughing. The shock all over Camarena's face just makes it harder to stay serious.

"Did you fucking hear me, you crazy bastard?!" he yells in my face.

"Everybody did," I say, trying to turn the laughter into a cough. "Why don't you smoke a joint with me and calm the fuck down instead of making a war out of some missed receipts?"

"You don't understand the importance of what happened. You're too stupid to be responsible for that mistake anyway. I'll find the guilty one for us all by myself." He rolls his eyes and walks away like a little bitch.

I keep enjoying my life, chilling with alcohol, drugs and girls in the heaven of the richest. Taking a sip of my wine, I wonder who's going to take that boss's place later. Men like him don't survive for long in the world war on drugs, especially because they believe it will end soon or late. That's when they lower their guard. They die, and I'll stay until the real end comes and take me away from chaos through the blessing of a peaceful death in my bed.

Why am I not afraid to die? Me, after all I've done, is more fearless than most good people. It's funny, knowing that if you're so evil to not have a soul you can't suffer the afterlife in hell. I'll just go out like a damn hero of villains. Ahah.