Those light stunt with the burglars had him at least pulling himself up from his couch, Mendez thought. After he disposed of the unconscious thieves, tidied up his apartment and cleaned any blood stains left behind, he went for his couch-- again. Mendez lied on his couch, and tried to close his eyes in an attempt to fall asleep. After achieving full tranquility and finally starting to drift from consciousness, his phone rang. Mendez was startled, and thinking his phone was inside his pants' pockets, tried to fetch it from there. Then he realized his phone was located on the small table his wartime photo was also located. He sat upright, trying to reach the phone, of which was still ringing. Due to him actually being terribly drowsy, he accidentally nudged his own phone, sending it to the floor. He heard the impact of his phone, and cursed silently. When he tried to reach his phone on the floor, which is still ringing in spite of the fall, Mendez lost his balance on the couch, and tumbled on the floor, crashing down with a solid thump. When he finally got hold of his phone, it was no longer ringing, the call was missed. Infuriated, he decided to sleep on the floor right there and then.
When he came around, it was already morning. The sun shone through the only window his apartment got. He was still on the floor, lying. In his black leather jacket and all. He even still had his brown boots on. He felt stupid. One second he became a home defender, jabbing those thieves out cold. The next second, he stumbled from his own couch, half-asleep, all for a cell phone. It was two significantly contrast behavior one man could've done in one night. He rose from his position, and fetched his phone. He looked at his phone call log, specifically the one he missed last night. It was a set of jumbled numbers with the area code at the front. Curious, he called the number.
After a couple of seconds, someone picked up. Male. "Who's this?" are the words Mendez heard first. "The guy you called up at 12 AM. Jesus man, didn't you know one irmao is asleep?" "I thought your business did not know any boundaries on time of appointment." "Yeah that applied when I'm definitely not asleep! From whom did you get this number?" "It doesn't matter, Mr. Mendez. What mattered are your competence in this occasion. I've heard from the person who gave me your number that you are very skilled in... collecting debts." "Oh, that person must've been Big T. I've done a couple of jobs for 'im recently, mostly in collecting debts from--" "Am I correct?" There was a brief pause before Mendez replied, "Well, if that's how T is going to put it, you can say I'm capaz." "Well, I've got a proposition for you." "This better be good." "I do hope you are interested in my offer. Someone owed me big time." "And how much is this 'big time' we're talking about?" "Eight hundred thousand dollars. Goes by Cliff Daniels. Sucks at backroom poker. If you manage to pull this off, I'll give you thirty percent of the money he owed." "And how will I know this is not some poor pateta whom you just thought deserved to suddenly owe you eight hundred thousand bucks?" "I'm sending your number his bank records. In advance, I'm telling you that from his investments in various businesses around town, he had already acquired three million dollars. Of course, in case you don't understand math, three million dollars is more than enough to cover up the money I loaned to him." "Ah, entendo." "Don't ever contact this number again. And before you proceed, Mr. Mendez, Daniels had used some cash he had on him to hire some muscles, in case someone like you showed to collect something that isn't rightfully his." The other guy hung up. Mendez put the phone in his pocket, then took out from his all-along-hidden gun holster a revolver -- Taurus Raging Bull, with some intrigue carvings on the barrel. His signature gun, where pulling it off from his shirt was intimidating enough for his opponent to throw away their guns. Roque thought, muscles? Just the way he liked it.
Along with the bank records (which did not lie about Daniels' wealth) sent to Mendez was two addresses. One was Daniels' home address, and the other was supposedly the place Daniels' usually hang out and play some poker. Minutes later, Mendez was at the debtor's apartment doorstep. No sound was made from inside of the apartment. It should have occured to Mendez- Daniels' supposedly hired muscles weren't around. At least, when those tough-guys-Mendez-hadn't-met were around, they were there to protect something of Daniels' possession - be it cash, lucky poker chip, or even himself. So he tried breaking down the door. A couple of hefty kicks had almost broken the door down. When Mendez went for the third, he heard footsteps that weren't there before, and a shriek. It was Daniels, surrounded by two men, full of muscles (hence the term muscles) both seemingly eager to punch Roque in turns. "Hey! You trying to break my apartment down? Roberts sent you, didn't he?" Roque dryly replied, a pint of laid back attitude was heard from his voice. "Bem merda, I didn't even know his name was Roberts. You owed him three hundred grand, didn't you?" "Well, if he was to take it from me, he was gonna get it by himself, instead of sending off some chump from you!" Roque felt this was at least the six hundred time he was called a chump and felt different from the first time he was called that. He felt energized instead of humiliated. After all, in this line of job of debt collecting, it's the first thing he'd expect. Still, his reaction was still the same. He whipped out his revolver and shot Daniels' at the leg. Of course he'd shot his tall goons if he'd make it quick, but he slipped the gun into his holster and marched to kick the bodyguards in the ass.
The way Mendez saw it: Tank Top and Muscle Shirt. Both were similarly burly in build and looked eager enough to smash Mendez' head into the wall. Tank Top walked upon Mendez slower than Muscle Shirt, but he seemed to be more calculative; seemingly examining and deliberately anticipating Mendez' movement. All while Muscle Shirt approached Mendez faster, more reckless, and seemed to have his nostrils blowing out hair like a bull in a bullfight, ready to charge on his matador. Only now it wasn't some enthusiastic bullfighter with a red cape. Just a downsized adversary. But Roque thought, not like that. He's had so much of goons thinking him as a frail blond guy oblivious to trouble. Fact is, he's had so much now he had gotten used to it.
Muscle Shirt gave a hefty swing on Mendez only for his fist to hit nothing. Mendez had ducked and almost instantly gave Muscle Shirt a blow to his crotch before moving up on Tank Top. Tank Top sent Mendez an upfront kick only to find it being blocked by Mendez. That is, before Tank Top jabbed Mendez in the face. Mendez raised both his forearms fast enough to block Tank Top, and then punched him across the face. Tank Top was thrown to the wall, his face came crashing into the the concrete. For good measures Mendez grabbed him by the crown and then shoved Tank Top's face to the wall. Tank Top surprisingly still budged, which made Mendez kicked his thigh, sending him on his knees. He was about to grab Tank Top's crown again when a pair of hand locked itself on his arms. Mendez couldn't see, but he immediately knew this was Muscle Shirt. The lock was very good that Mendez' struggle was not enough to break himself free. Instead, he took some step back until he pinned the wall hard. He heard a loud thud, hoping it was Muscle Shirt impacting against the wall. The grip on his arms suddenly loosened. Knowing he'd somehow hurt his captor in some way, he immediately knelt and bowed his head. This resulted in Mendez flipping Muscle Shirt over his body, sending him to the ground on his back. Muscle Shirt was stunned by this turn of events, but one last thing-- Roque Mendez' fist landed on his face, and suddenly he went dark. Mendez saw Tank Top attempting to get on his feet, and he instinctively kicked him in the face. It dazed Tank Top, making him whimpering in agony on the ground. Mendez wanted to make sure him not getting up, so he stomped on Tank Top's chest, shutting off the whimper. Now he's going for Daniels.
Two reasons for Mendez shooting Daniels on the leg: He didn't want to off him, due to him the only being to know the location of his thirty percent. Second, Daniels would've left a noticeable trace of blood, or at least limped due to a .44 round crashing into his leg. Either way, it wouldn't be hard to find him. The blood traced to a level below; then into a room. Mendez banged on the door. "DANIELS!" No answer. "DANIELS!" Silence. "Daniels! Eu sei que você está aí!" Then he considered Daniels not understanding a thing he just blurted out. "Daniels! What I just said is, 'I know you're in there'!" Not even a sound from inside. "Seriously Daniels, have you considered the blood from your leg leading me to you!? Ah, never mind, this is gonna end one way or another anyways." With those out from his tongue, he kicked the door down. He found Daniels, obviously startled, on the center of the room. Near him were an Asian family; mother, father, even a little girl. Suddenly Daniels took out a balisong from his pocket and clutched the little girl. He held her in front of him, pointing his folding knife at her, using her as a human shield. "Back off!" he shrieked. Mendez took out his revolver and readied his gun, setting his sights on Daniels. The latter responded, "Put that down! Put that piece down or this little gal is going to buy it!" Mendez replied, "We both know I'm not gonna do that. There's no need to drag some poor little girl into our business! Either you let her go, or instead, YOU are going to buy it." The little girl cried, and her parents spoke to her in Mandarin, trying to reassure her 'it's gonna be okay', by the looks of it. Daniels saw this and then turned to the mom and dad. "Shut it! Don't you ever give her any ideas. pal. I'm not kidding by slicing this girl's neck in front of you!" But the parents kept on talking, now evidently at Daniels, obviously talking him into letting their only daughter go. "I said shut it! Don't talk to me like that, or--" Daniels put his knife close to the girl's neck "'-- she's really gonna get it!" Roque was still aiming at Daniels, thinking Daniels might have done nothing more than bluffing, but judging by the situation, he was obviously put to the edge. It's not like he's going to slit the girl's throat, but it's also not like talking him out of this is going to get the job done. Roque saw Daniels still shouting at the family, distracted. He quickly took aim and discharged his gun.
Gunfire shook the room like thunder. Daniels howled, his right hand letting go of the knife and his left letting go of the daughter. Roque shot him at the same leg, only now he shot Daniels at the thigh, instead of at the shin like before. Daniels went down on his knee. Mendez walked to him, trying to subdue him before Daniels took the balisong and backhanded him. Roque was faster. He managed to drop his gun and grabbed Daniels' arm, then used the arm as a leverage to Daniels' body and sending it against his knee. Daniels' was knocked back, now bleeding heavily at the nostrils. Roque held him by the shirt and then put his gun on Daniels' wound. "Now, Senhor Daniels. It's not like I'm not gonna put another hole in your body. So you tell me, are you going to give Roberts his eight hundred grand?" Daniels was weak, but still managed to answer. "How am I gonna give it to him? You've beaten me to a pulp. I'm weak enough to be unable to get out of my bed, much less deliver that Roberts bastard his cash. Have you thought about this?" "Yeah then you better tell me where do you keep the money before I make you pulpier." "Ehh.. screw you." Daniels spat blood at Mendez' face. "Well, if that's the way you're gonna put it.." Mendez pressed his gun on Daniels' leg wound. The latter wailed in agony. "Tell me again. Where is the money?" Roque said as he loosened his gun. "AARRGH! Alright! Alright! I'll tell you!" Roque leaned to have a good listen. ".. in your mother's underwear cupboard." Roque now stepped on Daniels' wounded foot. He wailed even louder, his scream tore through the room. "Have I ever told you about talking trash about my madre? I don't normally make anyone paralyzed for life, but you're not even making this easier for yourself." "Stop it! STOP IT! AARGH! MY GOD! STOP!" "Anytime after you tell me where the money is.." "HOLY-- AARGH! MY APARTMENT! THE SAFE INSIDE THE BEDROOM! CODE 9367! JUST STOP!" Roque lifted his own foot from Daniels' leg. "That wasn't so hard, wasn't it?" "The cops are not gonna let you walk after this!" "I didn't murder you and feed your remnants to dogs, did I?" Roque walked away from Daniels, now slipping from consciousness. Roque saw the Asian family, terrified on what they had witnessed in the last five minutes. "Look I'm really sorry for the inconvenience. I'll pay for the door damage--" he pulled his wallet and gave some of his dollar bills to the father "-- and make sure to call the ambulance for this poor bastard. Again, I'm really sorry the sumbitch entered the wrong apartment and almost killed your daughter. I do hope you not having a vendetta against this deadbeat. He's just being pushed to the edge is all. Have a nice day." And with that, Roque left the apartment, leaving the family in complete shock and Daniels in complete unconsciousness.
The way Mendez saw it: Tank Top and Muscle Shirt. Both were similarly burly in build and looked eager enough to smash Mendez' head into the wall. Tank Top walked upon Mendez slower than Muscle Shirt, but he seemed to be more calculative; seemingly examining and deliberately anticipating Mendez' movement. All while Muscle Shirt approached Mendez faster, more reckless, and seemed to have his nostrils blowing out hair like a bull in a bullfight, ready to charge on his matador. Only now it wasn't some enthusiastic bullfighter with a red cape. Just a downsized adversary. But Roque thought, not like that. He's had so much of goons thinking him as a frail blond guy oblivious to trouble. Fact is, he's had so much now he had gotten used to it.
Muscle Shirt gave a hefty swing on Mendez only for his fist to hit nothing. Mendez had ducked and almost instantly gave Muscle Shirt a blow to his crotch before moving up on Tank Top. Tank Top sent Mendez an upfront kick only to find it being blocked by Mendez. That is, before Tank Top jabbed Mendez in the face. Mendez raised both his forearms fast enough to block Tank Top, and then punched him across the face. Tank Top was thrown to the wall, his face came crashing into the the concrete. For good measures Mendez grabbed him by the crown and then shoved Tank Top's face to the wall. Tank Top surprisingly still budged, which made Mendez kicked his thigh, sending him on his knees. He was about to grab Tank Top's crown again when a pair of hand locked itself on his arms. Mendez couldn't see, but he immediately knew this was Muscle Shirt. The lock was very good that Mendez' struggle was not enough to break himself free. Instead, he took some step back until he pinned the wall hard. He heard a loud thud, hoping it was Muscle Shirt impacting against the wall. The grip on his arms suddenly loosened. Knowing he'd somehow hurt his captor in some way, he immediately knelt and bowed his head. This resulted in Mendez flipping Muscle Shirt over his body, sending him to the ground on his back. Muscle Shirt was stunned by this turn of events, but one last thing-- Roque Mendez' fist landed on his face, and suddenly he went dark. Mendez saw Tank Top attempting to get on his feet, and he instinctively kicked him in the face. It dazed Tank Top, making him whimpering in agony on the ground. Mendez wanted to make sure him not getting up, so he stomped on Tank Top's chest, shutting off the whimper. Now he's going for Daniels.
Two reasons for Mendez shooting Daniels on the leg: He didn't want to off him, due to him the only being to know the location of his thirty percent. Second, Daniels would've left a noticeable trace of blood, or at least limped due to a .44 round crashing into his leg. Either way, it wouldn't be hard to find him. The blood traced to a level below; then into a room. Mendez banged on the door. "DANIELS!" No answer. "DANIELS!" Silence. "Daniels! Eu sei que você está aí!" Then he considered Daniels not understanding a thing he just blurted out. "Daniels! What I just said is, 'I know you're in there'!" Not even a sound from inside. "Seriously Daniels, have you considered the blood from your leg leading me to you!? Ah, never mind, this is gonna end one way or another anyways." With those out from his tongue, he kicked the door down. He found Daniels, obviously startled, on the center of the room. Near him were an Asian family; mother, father, even a little girl. Suddenly Daniels took out a balisong from his pocket and clutched the little girl. He held her in front of him, pointing his folding knife at her, using her as a human shield. "Back off!" he shrieked. Mendez took out his revolver and readied his gun, setting his sights on Daniels. The latter responded, "Put that down! Put that piece down or this little gal is going to buy it!" Mendez replied, "We both know I'm not gonna do that. There's no need to drag some poor little girl into our business! Either you let her go, or instead, YOU are going to buy it." The little girl cried, and her parents spoke to her in Mandarin, trying to reassure her 'it's gonna be okay', by the looks of it. Daniels saw this and then turned to the mom and dad. "Shut it! Don't you ever give her any ideas. pal. I'm not kidding by slicing this girl's neck in front of you!" But the parents kept on talking, now evidently at Daniels, obviously talking him into letting their only daughter go. "I said shut it! Don't talk to me like that, or--" Daniels put his knife close to the girl's neck "'-- she's really gonna get it!" Roque was still aiming at Daniels, thinking Daniels might have done nothing more than bluffing, but judging by the situation, he was obviously put to the edge. It's not like he's going to slit the girl's throat, but it's also not like talking him out of this is going to get the job done. Roque saw Daniels still shouting at the family, distracted. He quickly took aim and discharged his gun.
Gunfire shook the room like thunder. Daniels howled, his right hand letting go of the knife and his left letting go of the daughter. Roque shot him at the same leg, only now he shot Daniels at the thigh, instead of at the shin like before. Daniels went down on his knee. Mendez walked to him, trying to subdue him before Daniels took the balisong and backhanded him. Roque was faster. He managed to drop his gun and grabbed Daniels' arm, then used the arm as a leverage to Daniels' body and sending it against his knee. Daniels' was knocked back, now bleeding heavily at the nostrils. Roque held him by the shirt and then put his gun on Daniels' wound. "Now, Senhor Daniels. It's not like I'm not gonna put another hole in your body. So you tell me, are you going to give Roberts his eight hundred grand?" Daniels was weak, but still managed to answer. "How am I gonna give it to him? You've beaten me to a pulp. I'm weak enough to be unable to get out of my bed, much less deliver that Roberts bastard his cash. Have you thought about this?" "Yeah then you better tell me where do you keep the money before I make you pulpier." "Ehh.. screw you." Daniels spat blood at Mendez' face. "Well, if that's the way you're gonna put it.." Mendez pressed his gun on Daniels' leg wound. The latter wailed in agony. "Tell me again. Where is the money?" Roque said as he loosened his gun. "AARRGH! Alright! Alright! I'll tell you!" Roque leaned to have a good listen. ".. in your mother's underwear cupboard." Roque now stepped on Daniels' wounded foot. He wailed even louder, his scream tore through the room. "Have I ever told you about talking trash about my madre? I don't normally make anyone paralyzed for life, but you're not even making this easier for yourself." "Stop it! STOP IT! AARGH! MY GOD! STOP!" "Anytime after you tell me where the money is.." "HOLY-- AARGH! MY APARTMENT! THE SAFE INSIDE THE BEDROOM! CODE 9367! JUST STOP!" Roque lifted his own foot from Daniels' leg. "That wasn't so hard, wasn't it?" "The cops are not gonna let you walk after this!" "I didn't murder you and feed your remnants to dogs, did I?" Roque walked away from Daniels, now slipping from consciousness. Roque saw the Asian family, terrified on what they had witnessed in the last five minutes. "Look I'm really sorry for the inconvenience. I'll pay for the door damage--" he pulled his wallet and gave some of his dollar bills to the father "-- and make sure to call the ambulance for this poor bastard. Again, I'm really sorry the sumbitch entered the wrong apartment and almost killed your daughter. I do hope you not having a vendetta against this deadbeat. He's just being pushed to the edge is all. Have a nice day." And with that, Roque left the apartment, leaving the family in complete shock and Daniels in complete unconsciousness.
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