her. Mano knew better, though. She was too smart to not be aware of her surroundings. Colombia was a beautiful country rife with cartel; they were quick to kidnap a family member of an opposing organization. The connections of his father had provided his family with safety, but in Colombia, safety was a relative word.
Mano couldn’t resist running out the front door when he heard the airplane approaching. One day, he would have his own plane; the same freedom he felt running over the mountainside of Colombia would be felt in the clouds.
"Papi, Mira nuestros invitados han llegado, Papi, look, our guests have arrived,” he translated.
Both parents were aware of what he’d announced, however. Translating was a habit of the boy, so no one was left out when the Americans who didn’t speak Spanish visited. His arms went out, and he moved in circles at the door with excitement thrumming through him like a taut guitar string. He stood awestruck as he watched the plane land with precision. The cartel had the money for the best planes that transported the drugs that made them rich.
Armed bodyguards exited the private plane and ushered two Colombian cartel members to the house. The bodyguards' heads moved as if on a swivel even though there were no impending threats to be seen. When trouble hit, it came like a thief in the night; it was silent but deadly. Cartel wasn't the only presence the family was concerned with. The military also played a role as they had the job of crop dusting, burning crops, and killing cartel members on sight if the mood struck them. Colombia was a lawless land where power and money reigned.
Mano looked up at the man who towered over him. "Hola Señor Cupid," he said. It was a nickname the man had been given because he was such a hit with the ladies.
“Hola Chiquito.”
“I’m not little, soy El Hombre,” Mano stuck his chest out with pride.
“Claro que si’, Vato,” The man smiled down on the little boy who was far beyond his years in cartel matters and book learning.
Mano seemed pleased with the man who said, “clearly dude,” since it put him in the big boy category. He smiled to let Cupid know he was no longer offended. Mano always stood on his own two feet when it came to his interactions with cartel rather than the fear the men had for his father. He’d witnessed cartel kids who used the fear their fathers ignited in the hearts of men, and he viewed them as being weak and bratty; to him, they weren't madmen in the making. He would have more than just his father’s name when he grew up. He would have the knowledge and wisdom it took to be a leader. His surname would give him connections, but his heart would be that of a lion’s because he would be trained for warfare. Already at a young age, he had no intention of riding on anyone’s coattail to achieve the things he had in mind.
He looked at the man with him; a stranger, the man nodded in the boy’s direction. Something like razor-sharp ice ran up the boy’s backbone, and he hoped it was because the man was a Sicario and not because he wished to do the family any harm. It was only appropriate; a paid killer in the guise of a bodyguard has the eyes of an assassin and the expression of a man who has come to terms with the grim reaper. Mano ignored the three men he didn’t know and focused on Cupid. He didn’t like it when men he’d never met came to their home. The need to protect his family was primal. Throughout his lifetime, he would carry the animalistic trait towards anyone he believed to be his responsibility. The word mine held a much deeper meaning for him than battling over toys with a playmate. He had learned at a young age no one could be trusted under the right circumstances. In his young mind, it was his responsibility to ensure no enemy crossed what he believed to be the perimeter of his life.
He walked towards the table and sat next to his father. His father, Fidelis—who went by the name Fidel—sat stoically as everyone was seated, and his wife began serving the men. Mano always noticed the way his mother was careful to disappear. However, she was still the center of attention in any room. She was careful to never