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drabbles-mc · 1 year

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Miles of Red String

An OG Narcos & Narcos MX Crossover fic (ft. OC Diego Ramírez)

For @ashlingnarcos as part of the Candy Hearts Exchange

Warnings: 18+, language, smoking, alcohol, angst, the typical Narcos Universe Things

Word Count: 6.8k

A/N: Taking all of my OG Narcos S3 faves and giving them my beloved mess of an NMX man Walt Breslin. Pobrecito Expressway making its first stop at this fic. I have so many feelings about all of this and idk how to articulate any of them. I love all of these messy, messy men so much. Catching me adding yet another layer to the Diegoverse for none other than one of Diego's other parents.

Narcos/NMX/Diegoverse Taglist: @garbinge @narcolini @hausofmamadas @mysun-n-stars @nessamc @thesandbeneathmytoes @anditsmywholeheart @winchestershiresauce @sizzlingcloudmentality @alm0501 @panagiasikelia @616wilsons @hauntedforsst @mirabee @buckybarneshairpullingkink @boomclapxox @southotheborder @supersanelyromantic @padbrookcottage @raincoffeeandfandoms @justreblogginfics @marrianena @passionatewrites @artemiseamoon (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

The death of Escobar didn’t mean that the work in Colombia was over. Far from it, actually. All the death of Escobar meant was that Escobar was dead. The other cartel leaders, the Cali Godfathers, had been operating almost completely unchecked in the meantime because the country, the world, was so obsessed with catching and stopping Escobar.

However, even though there was still a seemingly endless amount of work to be done, it was very evident that the previous years, the chase, all of the loss, had taken a toll on everyone. While in some cases people would assume, “Well, you’re already in Colombia, you might as well stay here and start working on the next thing,” that wasn’t the case when the shift from taking down Pablo changed to taking down the Cali cartel.

Everyone met with their superiors when it came time to discuss options and make decisions for the next move. A lot of people left, too exhausted to go right from one brutal manhunt to the next. A lot of agents, a lot of officers, transferred or went back home shadows of their former selves. No one was the same after all of that.

Steve went home. He had a wife, a family, and still managed to keep a few shreds of his humanity. He cut his losses and went back to the states. No one could blame him for that. Peña, despite his less than desirable slap on the wrist and suspension over Los Pepes, was asked to return to help with the Gentlemen of Cali. The ask was surprising, as was his agreeing to do it.

Search Bloc wasn’t what it had been. The rules of engagement for tackling the Cali cartel were different than for Escobar. Having a massive, police-based hit squad on deck at all times wasn’t going to be necessary the way it had been in the years prior. That being the case, Colonel Martinez was still around, and still very much involved with the police and the plan going forward to continue dismantling the next cartel that was on the chopping block, but it wasn’t the same as it had been before. In truth, he was probably beyond thankful for that, because it wasn’t something that he had ever really wanted or asked for.

Then, there was one person who, through no choice or real fault of his own, existed in a very strange limbo between the CNP and the DEA. Again, something that he hadn’t ever planned on or asked for. Diego Ramírez had spent the better part of the last few years pinballing back and forth between Search Bloc and the DEA. No longer a true part of the Bloque de Buscada, not an actual member of the DEA, he had been on an island between the two. All of the danger with almost none of the camaraderie.

Diego met with Martinez to discuss next moves. The two were professional—after all, Martinez was always professional. But the advice and insight that Martinez could try to provide was coming from a more distant place than when he advised his other men. It wasn’t the Colonel’s fault. It wasn’t Diego’s either. Colonel Carrillo, for better or worse, was probably one of the only people who could’ve given Diego real advice on what his next move should be. But, even if the man had still been alive, he probably wouldn’t have offered up much. The man never did learn how to let go of a grudge.

But now Diego was sitting across from Messina. He hadn’t expected to be pulled aside by her. He assumed that whatever they were about to talk about, it was going to be about what his plans were. He wished that he had a concrete answer to give her.

“Officer Ramírez,” she finally addressed him as she looked up from the folders in front of her.

“Yes, ma’am?” He looked more confused than anything else. “What can I do for you?”

“I was talking with Colonel Martinez, with Agent Murphy before he left. The word around town is that you haven’t decided what you’re doing next.”

He shook his head. “No, I haven’t.”

“Any particular reason for that?”

He took a deep breath, trying to figure out if he knew how to articulate exactly what he was thinking. He had a hard enough time sorting out his thoughts for himself, let alone getting them in order enough to explain them to someone else and have them get it.

“I don’t have any intentions of leaving the force…or Colombia,” he told her with certainty. Of all the things he was unsure about these days, he had that. “This is my home—I don’t want to leave it if I don’t have to.”

“But?”

He leaned forward slightly. “We all lost a lot because of Escobar,” he said honestly, allowing a small fraction of the pain from the last years to shine through for a moment, “and I don’t…I don’t know if I want to put myself right back into that position again. I was lucky last time, but no one gets lucky every time.”

She nodded. “I’m not here to strong-arm you into making one decision over the other. Hell,” she laughed dryly, “I’m not long for Colombia at this point. But,” she paused, her tone sobering back up, “you’re right—this is your home. You’ve done a lot of good so far, and I think that you could keep doing a lot of good.”

There was a long stretch of silence between them. Messina was watching Diego, and Diego’s eyes were glued to the top of Messina’s desk even though he wasn’t really looking at anything in particular. All of the papers and folders blurred together as he tried to think about the ramifications of whatever he ended up deciding to do. Messina studied his face, seeing the slight shifts in his expression as he thought it all over. She didn’t rush or prompt him to say anything. He’d come to his own conclusions eventually.

Finally, Diego let out a deep sigh, his eyes refocusing as he looked directly at Messina. “Who should I talk to about Cali?”

She smiled, feeling a small sense of triumph over the whole thing. She gave a small wave, an almost dismissive gesture without it being rude. “I’ll take care of it. I have all of the paperwork here.”

“Is that what you were filling out when I came in?” he asked, a bit of a grin tugging at his lips.

She shrugged but there was a knowing look on her face. “I had a feeling.”

He stood up, and she did the same, Reaching across her desk, he held his hand out for her to shake. “Thank you, ma’am. I know it hasn’t been easy, but I appreciate everything that you’ve done.”

She nodded, giving his hand a firm shake. The only person in the entire office that could call her ma'am and it didn't make her skin crawl. “You’re a good kid, Ramírez. Truthfully, I wish more of my guys could be a little more like you.”

He laughed and shook his head. “I have some people who would beg to differ.”

They both chuckled for a moment before she nodded to him as she sat back down in her chair. “I’ll make sure all of your paperwork gets put through. They’ll be reaching out to you about Cali ASAP, I’m sure.”

He nodded. “Thank you.”

“Stay safe.”

The small laugh he let out was mostly genuine, but a little heavy. “I’ll do my best.”

He was reaching out for the handle of Messina’s office door when she said, “I’m sure that Peña will be glad to see at least one familiar face when he comes back.”

Diego’s eyes popped a little wider as he froze for a moment. Half-turning, he looked back. “Peña?”

She looked up from the paperwork that she’d already begun filling out for him. “Yea. Stechner pushed it through himself.”

“Huh.” He didn’t know what else to say. Messina gave him a short nod, and Diego finally got himself back on task and pulled the office door open so that he could let himself out.

Diego wished that she was right about Javier being glad to see him. He knew that that wasn’t going to be the case, but he still hoped. New case, new location, mostly new team—Diego hoped that maybe the two of them could have something resembling a fresh start. It was a pipe dream if ever there was one.

The only saving grace of it all was that Javier wasn’t overly chummy with anyone upon his return. It made his coldness towards Diego less noticeable. Javi didn’t dislike the two new agents that he had on his team, but change was hard. He understood why Steve didn’t stick around, but as he sat in his glass-walled office, he really wished that he had.

Diego liked the two new agents well enough. They were eager, a little green in some respects, but they were good men. He could work with that. The dynamics were completely different now than they had been in Medellín. The job itself was also very different. The stakes were still high, but the feeling of immediate danger wasn’t as intense as before. It created a false sense of security that none of them could afford to fall into.

It was early in the morning—everyone was just getting settled. Diego, Feistl, and Van Ness were all in their own little area. Not the same cramped quarters that Steve and Javier had been given back in Medellín, something that still made Diego chuckle to himself when he thought about it sometimes. It was still close quarters, but it wasn’t bad.

As the day went on, Diego found himself listening to the two of them talk about all sorts of things between actual work tasks. He always listened to the banter—every now and then one of them would try and rope him in to break some sort of tie, end whatever debate they were locked in. Not that it ever really mattered because they would always just pick something new to bicker about.

He was shaking his head at the two of them when Javi’s office door slid open. All of them stopped and looked over to see him leaning out the doorway, bracing himself against the frame of it. He gave a small nod in greeting before locking his eyes on Diego.

“Ramírez, a minute.” He nodded in a gesture to beckon him over.

Diego didn’t hesitate, standing up and heading over to Javi’s office. By the time he reached the doorway, Javier was already back in his seat behind the desk.

Javi waved him in. “Shut the door.”

Diego did as he was asked before walking and sitting down in one of the two chairs on the opposite side of Javi’s desk. “What’s going on?”

“I need you to do a pick-up for me.”

He couldn’t hide his confusion. “A pick-up?”

Javi was looking at the paperwork that had been dropped off on his desk earlier. He was talking to Diego without really looking at him, something outsiders might see as a bad habit but the two of them knew was a calculated move. “Got a guy flying in from México.”

That only made his confusion intensify. “Who?”

He looked up only to hand Diego the folder with the man’s file in it. “DEA Agent Walt Breslin.”

Diego opened the folder, giving it a brief glance. “Is he transferring here?”

“Nope.”

Diego looked up from the pages in front of him and over at Javi. He waited for the man to elaborate on his own, but when he didn’t, he asked, “So…why is he here?”

“He thinks that his guys in Juárez and our guys in Cali are keeping each other in business.”

Diego frowned in thought as he mulled over what Javi had just said, what he was seeing on the pages in front of him. He looked back over at the agent behind the desk even though he knew Javi wasn’t going to look back at him. “Just him coming in?”

Javi shrugged. “Last I heard.” He looked at the time on his watch. “Better get going—plane gets in soon.”

Diego knew he was going to regret asking the question but he did it anyway. “Why can’t Feistl or Van—”

“I got them doing other shit today,” Javi said before Diego could even finish the question.

Moments like that gave Diego little flashbacks to their hunt for Escobar. Reminded Diego that Javi and Carrillo had more similarities than differences, some of those similarities being how they felt about and spoke to him. He’d love to say that it wasn’t personal, but it was. Still, he didn’t let it bother him. Not anymore.

“Alright,” he said as he flipped the folder shut. “Anything else?”

Javi shook his head. “Nope.”

“Okay.” He got up and stepped towards the door. “I’ll be back with Agent Breslin, then.”

Javi nodded but didn’t say anything else. Diego shook his head as he slid the door open and slipped out of the man’s office, the folder with Breslin’s information tucked underneath his arm. When he looked back at the area where their desks were, he saw that Feistl and Van Ness were looking at him, trying not to look too eager or curious and failing miserably at it.

“Everything okay?” Feistl broke the silence when Diego walked back over.

The officer nodded, grabbing his jacket and searching for the keys to one of the government-issued vehicles, not really wanting to pick up a visiting agent in his own beat-up car. “All good. Peña said we got another agent flying in—gotta go pick them up.”

“Who?” they both asked in unison.

Diego chuckled, setting the folder on Feistl’s desk. “He’s been working on cartels in Mexico. Started off in Texas first, El Paso. Then moved across the border.”

“Now he’s moving down the continent?” Feistl said as he read the pages in front of him.

Diego nodded. “Seems like it.”

The airport was busy the same way that it always was. It struck Diego that this guy wasn’t even going to know who he was looking for. The risk level was lower now than it had been in years past for agents coming and going. Even still, Diego kept a close eye and his head on a swivel. Just in case.

Then, right on time, Diego saw him. He was smaller than Diego had imagined based off the tiny headshot photo in the man’s file, a little shorter, too. He had the same haggard look that everyone who was chasing down cartel leaders and sicarios and massive amounts of drugs seemed to have. That, at least, was exactly what Diego had been expecting. He watched as the man scanned the area, giant duffle bag hanging off his shoulder.

“Walt?” he spoke up, flashing a smile and waving him down.

His head snapped in the direction of someone saying his name. His expression got a little less intense when he saw the Colombian police uniform, when he saw the bright look on Diego’s face. Walking, over, Diego held out his hand for Walt to shake. A little bit of the tension disappeared from Walt’s body—at least this guy was safe.

“Agent Breslin,” Diego said as he shook his hand. “Beinvenido a Colombia.”

He let out a dry chuckle as he nodded, giving Diego’s hand a firm shake. “Gracias.” He paused for a moment. “Lo siento, pero, quién eres?”

Diego laughed, shaking his head at himself. “Diego Ramírez. Lo siento.” There was a split-second pause and when Diego saw that Walt was looking for a little elaboration, he said, “Trabajo un poco con la policia aquí, un poco con la DEA.”

Walt nodded, taking it all in. “Busy guy.”

Diego shrugged, a smile still on his face. “Most times.” He waved for Walt to follow him. “C’mon, I’ll take you to the base to meet everyone.”

Despite how exhausted Walt was as he sat in the passenger seat of the car that Diego was driving, he was still sitting up, looking out the window and windshield as the officer drove them through Cali. Colombia had never really been on Walt’s list of places to visit, but now that he was here, he figured he might as well try to take as much of it in as possible with what little time he had there.

“Your Spanish,” Diego commented as he turned off one road and onto the next, “it sounds good.”

Walt chuckled. “You sound surprised.”

Diego laughed and shrugged, sparing a glance at the agent sitting next to him. “Last gringo with a drawl that transferred down here didn’t know any Spanish. I don’t get my hopes up anymore.”

Given what the kid must’ve been through over the last years, Walt was surprised that he was still able to be as light-hearted as he was. He tried to match the energy, a tinge of humor to his voice as he said, “All us white guys are the same, huh?”

Diego’s grin grew a little wider as he laughed again. “Más o menos, sí?”

Walk shook his head, a smirk on his face as he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “Yea, more or less.” He held the pack out to Diego. “Want one?”

He shook his head. “I’m good, thanks.”

Walt shrugged, tucking the pack back into his pocket before flicking his lighter. Neither of them said much more for the rest of the ride, Walt assuming that most of the questions that he had for Diego would be answered by him or someone else when they got to the base. He bided his time by smoking his cigarette and flipping through stations on the radio.

When they got to the floor where Javi and the other agents were, everyone turned to look as the elevator doors opened. By that point, everyone around knew that another agent from Mexico was being brought in. No one really knew the full scope of why except Walt—even Javi still had some pressing questions. Even so, the layers of unknown to it all made it an even bigger piece of news to everyone else who knew next to nothing.

For a floor full of agents, one would think that they’d be better at subtlety, but they weren’t. Walt felt himself getting defensive before anyone had even said anything. He tried to hope that those stares didn’t mean the same thing in Colombia as they did in Mexico, or back home, but he didn’t get his hopes up too high.

Javi walked up to them once they got closer, instantly extending out a hand to Walt. “Agent Breslin,” he shook his hand, “I’m Javier Peña.” He turned and motioned to the two other men standing by. “This is Chris Feistl, and Daniel Van Ness.” He waited for them to exchange their handshakes and “Nice to meet you’s”. Then he nodded towards Diego. “I’m assuming Officer Ramírez already introduced himself.”

Walt nodded. “He did.” He looked around at all of them for a moment. “Appreciate you guys making the time for this. I know collaborating to actually get shit done isn’t the government’s strong suit, so…” his voice trailed off.

The comment got a few knowing smiles and chuckles out of the group. When they all fell quiet, Javi spoke up, nodding towards his office. “C’mon, let’s get some stuff straightened out. Then we can all start trying to string all this shit together.”

Walt nodded as he followed in Javi’s footsteps. He gave another nod and said, “Nice meeting you,” to the rest of them as he walked off.

Once the office door was shut, both agents immediately turned and looked at Diego for answers to questions that they hadn’t even asked yet. It was in all of their natures to be curious, nosey even, but their obviousness and eagerness still got a laugh out of Diego as he dropped the keys onto the surface of his desk and sat down.

“Yea?”

“So?” Feistl asked, leaning so that his palms were flat against the top of Diego’s desk.

Diego was trying to tone down the smile fighting its way onto his face. “So?”

“What’d he say? What’s going on? What’s he here for?”

Diego shook his head as he opened his desk drawer and pulled a few of the files out. “You think we got into all of that on the drive from the airport to here?” He leaned back in his seat. “It’s not like he’s going to get into that with me before talking to Peña anyway.”

“Yea, but you’re, you know,” he tried to say it like it was so obvious, “you’re Colombian Police. That ranks.”

Diego chuckled, but the repeated shake of his head spoke volumes. He was an optimist still, sure, because that’s just who he always was and who he’d always be. But the naivety that he’d been plagued with when he joined the CNP, joined Search Bloc, got beaten out of him over the years. “Yea, because it’s a well-known fact that all the police officers in Colombia are upstanding individuals. None of them would ever—”

“You wouldn’t, though,” Feistl argued.

Diego shrugged. “I know that. You know that.” He nodded towards the office. “Agent Breslin does not know that.” He saw the way that both the men were shaking their heads. “If the two of you flew into Mexico, would you tell the cop who picked you up everything about why you were there?” He sat silently, waiting for the answer. When neither of them said anything, he nodded. “Exactly.”

Feistl knew that he’d lost the argument, but it didn’t stop him from wanting the last word. Being wrong didn’t mean that he didn’t still want to be right anyway. “Still, though,” he said flippantly as he sat back down at his desk.

Meanwhile, Javi gestured for Walt to take a seat in his office. Refocusing once again, he said, “What can I do for you, Agent Breslin?”

Walt didn’t want to get into all of it. He knew that he was going to have to be some kind of honest if he wanted to get answers and information, but he wasn’t ready to start poking and picking at the wounds that were still incredibly fresh. He wondered how little he could divulge and still get what he needed.

“I know that your cartel here in Cali is connected to my cartels in Mexico through at least one guy.”

“The pilot,” Javi said with a nod.

“Yea,” Walt tried not to sound as hollow and bitter as he felt, “Amado Carrillo Fuentes.”

“Like I told you on the phone, we’ve been more focused on the godfathers than anyone else. I’m not sure if any of the information that we have would be of any use to you. We know that our guys make layover stops in Mexico before getting their shit across the border into the states. But anything going on on the ground there is your area of expertise, not ours.”

“Help me paint a bigger picture, then. Whatever you’ve got. Hell,” he shrugged, the action looking much less desperate than he felt, “maybe what I’ve got could help you guys out too.”

Javi knew that there was more to it than that. He could tell by the look on Walt’s face that there was plenty that he wasn’t privy to. Javi knew better than to take the secrecy personally—he’d spent years doing the same thing. Most other people in Javi’s position would’ve pressed until they got all the details they wanted, or would’ve sent Walt on their way. But there was something in his apparent exhaustion that made Javi trust him.

“My guys are gonna have a lot of questions for you,” he said as he nodded towards the glass. And, sure enough, two of the three men sitting out there were blatantly staring at Javi’s office, trying to read lips, trying to figure out what was going on.

“You don’t?” was all Walt said in return.

He sighed, shaking his head once. “You’re the one who flew all the way down here for answers—not me.” He gave a few seconds for Walt to say something else. When he didn’t, Javi stood back up. “Come on.”

Javi got up and walked to the door, Walt following close behind. When the two of them stepped out, they had three sets of curious eyes on them. Javi hardly looked at the men on his team as he waved for them to all get up and follow. “Let’s go.”

Notebooks, folders, and pens in hand, the three men all but jumped up and strode quickly to play catchup with the two agents in the lead. Feistl and Van Ness kept looking back and forth at each other, Diego trailing just a half-step behind them watching all of the men in front of him, wondering what was going to happen next.

The room they all walked into, making sure to shut the door behind them, had been a conference room at some point. Now, though, it was a hub for any and everything about Cartel Cali. Photos were arranged into hierarchies, some with x’s through them, others with notes written off to the sides of them. There were maps hung up, folders and photographs and transcriptions scattered all over the table.

Walt looked around, a little bewildered by it all. It made the shitty abandoned warehouse he and his team had been meeting up in look like…well…a shitty abandoned warehouse.

“Shit,” Walt said as he walked up to the wall that housed the web of photos.

“Yea,” Javi said nonchalantly as he leaned back against the desk and stared at the row of photos at the top of the godfathers. “Welcome to Cali.”

Walt turned around to look at the other men in the room. He saw the way that even though they must’ve been looking at the pictures and information in that room nonstop for weeks, or months, they still looked at it with just as much scrutiny and determination as if they’d just walked into the room for the first time. He knew that feeling.

Walt walked up and tapped the photo of Amado that was taped to the wall. The pilot and his fucking shades. “This is the guy that my team and I had started focusing on.”

“The pilot?” Diego asked, clearly curious.

Walt nodded. “He’s not just working for your guys here in Colombia. He’s making deals with the guys in Mexico too. He’s knee-deep with a lot of shit going down in Juárez.”

“Makes sense,” Diego said with a nod. “He’s just transportation, right? Why not get paid by two cartels to do the same shit that he’s been doing? He’ll be able to retire and disappear across the globe somewhere with his best plane while the rest of these guys rot.”

“Yea,” Walt said bitterly, “not if I can do anything about it.” He folded his arms across his chest as he started to explain, with a little more detail, how Amado was their link to the guy that his team was really after. He knew that the men in the room weren’t going to give him Felix Gallardo. But they could still help him get Amado. “I’ve got it on good authority that the last shipment he moved was seventy tons.”

All the eyes in the room widened. Feistl shook his head, “That’s a shitton of coke.”

“I know.” Walt nodded slowly, anger still etched into his features. “And now it’s lost in the fucking wind. Thanks to some fucking,” he shook his head, almost shaking with anger, “some fucking cop playing both sides.”

Javi shook his head, sadness crossing his face for a moment. “Same shit everywhere.”

The group of them all gathered around the table as they dove into their discussion. Walt outlined what he and his team had been doing and looking into, got into the details of what he thought the extent of the Cali cartel’s involvement was with his targets in Mexico. They were two different spots on the same map, two different levels of the same game. There were a few connecting threads, but a lot of the chaos in Mexico was happening with or without the help of the men in Colombia.

“How long are you in Colombia for?” Van Ness asked when they all hit a lull in the conversation.

Walt shrugged and shook his head, tucking his chin down for a moment. “Through the weekend, at least. If we get somewhere with this I might be able to stretch it a little longer, but…” his voice trailed off.

Javi’s brows knit together at that. It was the first real inkling he got that maybe Walt was operating outside of the DEA’s knowledge. Javi wasn’t one to judge, but it would be something that was good to know.

“Why don’t we get back to this tomorrow then?” Javi asked, looking around at all of them.

Everyone was nodding in agreement, but Diego was the first one to speak up as he looked at Walt. “We’ll get you a car you can use for now. Let you get to your hotel, unpack, sleep, whatever. Come back tomorrow with everything you have and we’ll see what we can do.” He gestured vaguely to the wall of photos. “Red-string it.”

Walt couldn’t hide the relief at the thought of being able to lay down for a couple hours after being on the go for as long as he had been. “Alright, yea. That works.”

“We should grab drinks,” Feistl suggested as everyone was getting ready to leave the room. He saw the looks everyone shot his way. “Tonight, I mean,” he clarified.

Everyone exchanged looks and shrugs, no one necessarily looked opposed to the idea. Some of them were expecting Javi to shoot the idea down, but apparently he was trying to extend some hospitality, and he agreed. They picked a time, and a place. It was the same place as always, but Walt didn’t know that.

Walt also didn’t know what to expect when he showed up at the bar that evening. He knew how he’d been with his team, the dynamics there, but he didn’t know these guys. Nothing that had happened made him think that he was going to have any kind of problem with them, but he still didn’t feel certain.

When he walked in, he saw the four of them already sitting at a table together. Javi had been sitting facing the door, so he saw Walt the second that he walked in. Javi held his hand up slightly to get his attention, nodding slightly for him to come over once they made eye contact.

He pulled out the seat at the end of the table, feeling the creeping sense of awkwardness coming over him. He’d hardly sat down all the way when the waitress appeared asking for his drink order. He rattled it off, one of the things in life that he had committed to memory. When she walked away, he finally took a second to breathe and take in the scene in front of him.

They instantly pulled him right into the conversation. They talked a bit about work, but most of it was just them bullshitting around. It was a less-intensive way for Walt to get to know them, and vice-versa, than doing the whole twenty questions routine. It also allowed Walt to do more listening than talking, which was something that he would always be grateful for no matter where he was or who he was with.

Walt was shaking his head at something the other DEA agents had said when he reached to pull his pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of his shirt. He went to grab his lighter from his jeans pocket when he realized that he didn’t have it. He frowned for a moment before looking at the men sitting around him.

“Anyone got a lighter?”

He was 0 for 3 by the time he got to Javi, but luckily he was the one person who always had one on him. He handed it over, nodding in response to Walt’s quick Thanks before turning back to Van Ness and asking, “What happened to your fanny pack? Thought you kept everything in there?”

It wasn’t as though anyone in present company really had any right to be criticizing the others’ fashion choices, but the fact that both Feistl and Van Ness played so heavily into the tourist shtick because it made the most sense for them definitely made them the easiest targets. The comment from Javi also ensured that the conversation wasn’t going to get too heavy for the time being.

None of them had been keeping track of the time until Diego looked down to check his watch. When he saw the hour, a smile crept across his face. He wasted no time in standing up from his chair at the table. “I gotta run.”

Despite the more than pleased look on his face, the sudden change still prompted Javi to ask, “All good?”

Diego opened his mouth to respond but Feistl beat him to the punch. “He’s fine. Ramírez is just high-tailing out of here because his girl is coming to Cali for the weekend.”

Even though Javi didn’t give much of a reaction one way or another to the information, it got laughs out of Walt and Van Ness, and Diego too. It wasn’t the first time that either one of the new DEA agents gave him grief about it, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. It was all in jest, and Diego didn’t mind it—it was a welcome change.

Diego walked around the table, clapping his hand onto Walt’s shoulder as he leaned down, almost like he was telling him a secret even though he was purposely talking loud enough for the whole table to hear, “Ellos solo están enojados porque yo tengo una novia que me visita.” They laughed as Feistl and Van Ness waved him off. Diego spoke to the two of them as he turned to walk away, “Try not to need me.”

Diego’s early departure didn’t mean that the night was over for the rest of them. Feistl and Van Ness were happy to have someone new around to talk to. And, for as closed off as Javi tended to keep himself these days, he had to admit that he was enjoying himself much more than he thought he would. Most of his late-night drinks were solo now, but having their company and being able to listen to the banter that was apparently an all-day, everyday affair, was amusing. He also took the opportunity to try and piece apart what he thought the deal with Walt really was. He didn’t think that the agent was lying when they spoke earlier, but he also didn’t think that he was telling the full truth, either. Javi understood it—he would’ve played it the same way if the roles were reversed.

Eventually, both Feistl and Van Ness took off as well, leaving just Javi and Walt sitting at the table together. Neither of them was in much of a rush to leave. Javi didn’t want to go back to his empty apartment, and even though Walt was still exhausted he wasn’t that eager to head back to his small and very empty hotel room. Usually he had his team in the rooms on either side of him, but now it was just him. He didn’t want to think about that.

Things were quiet between the two of them for a moment—all the chatterboxes had left the building. Walt sipped on the scotch that was still in his glass while Javi worked his way through another whiskey. Both were watching everyone around them now more than they were watching each other.

“Can I ask you something, Breslin?” Javi asked, still not looking at him.

Walt looked at him from across the table. “Shoot.”

Javi finally locked eyes with him. “Why are you here?”

His face scrunched in confusion for a moment. “What?” He shook his head, setting his glass down on the table. “I told you, Amado—”

“I know, I know,” he took a sip of his drink, “you’re connecting the dots. But that could’ve been a phone call. A few phone calls. We could’a faxed you some of our intel and that would’ve been the end of it. You didn’t have to come all the way down here.” He paused. “No one comes to Colombia when they don’t have to. No way you ran out of shit to do in Mexico.”

Walt tried to keep his expression as neutral as possible. “I’m just looking for answers, man.”

He was waiting for Javi to come back with something, another question or a comment about how he was full of shit, but he didn’t. Javi just sat and stared at him. Javi knew how to play the waiting game. Hell, he was more than content to sit there for another hour in silence and order another whiskey while he waited. He wasn’t the one on a time crunch—Walt was.

Walt swirled what little was still left inside his glass around once, twice, before bringing it to his lips and finishing off the entire thing. “I lost,” he exhaled sharply as he set the glass back down, letting it clatter against the top of the table, “about ninety-nine percent of my fuckin' team trying to get this guy. And I’m no closer to—” he stopped himself short, shaking his head. “I need the fuckin' win.”

Javi nodded. If there was anyone on the Cali team who understood that type of loss, that type of desperation, it was him. However, if the hunt for Escobar, if all the political hoops and bullshit with the Cali Godfathers had taught him anything, it’s that no one ever really gets a win. Judging by the look in Walt’s eyes, Javi had a feeling the man might’ve had an inkling about that already.

He waited for Walt to look at him, but when he didn’t, Javi spoke up, his tone not gentle but not as harsh as it could’ve been either. “Hey.” He sighed. “I can’t promise you the win that you’re looking for. Wish I could. Hell, wish that any fucking one of us could get a win these days. But,” he shook his head, “I can’t.”

“I just need enough to hurt these guys.”

Javi could feel how personal this all was for the man sitting across from him. He knew that feeling. He remembered the feeling of futility as the number of dead officers kept going up and up and up. He remembered what it felt like after Carrillo was killed. Losing your partner, your team, that was something that you never really shook off. It put a different tint on everything. All the steps you took after that had a new depth to them. Everything felt personal. Everything felt painful.

Javi knew what Walt was feeling. He also knew that whatever warpath the man was set on, wasn’t going to work out the way he thought it was going to. Javi had been there, done that, gotten the suspension paperwork to prove it. Still, he didn’t listen when people tried to warn him. He had the feeling that Walt wasn’t in the mood to be heeding any warnings either.

“Me and my guys will tell you what we know, whatever you wanna hear,” Javier told him, “but we don’t really know shit about Mexico.”

Walt shook his head. “Leave that to me. I’ll take whatever you’ve got.”

“Alright.”

There were a few beats of silence before Walt said, “Your guys…they’re good?”

Javi chuckled dryly. “Pfft. Yea,” he shook his head with a tired smile, “annoying and eager as all hell. But they’re good.”

Walt laughed quietly. “Eager is good.”

“Don’t tell them that. Can’t afford to give them any more leash than they’ve got.”

“Your boss say the same about you?” Walt asked, the knowing smirk on his face said that he already had the answer.

“Probably. Begs the question, though, of how you got enough leash to get all the way down here to Cali.”

“Oh,” Walt laughed, “that’s because I don’t ask anymore. They want me? They can fuckin' fly down here and get me.”

Javi smiled a little at that. It wasn’t so long ago that he was doing and saying the same kinds of things. Part of him missed that. The other part of him vividly remembered the fallout of it all—bureaucratic bullshit pouring salt into the wounds left by things that actually mattered. He had a feeling that Walt probably knew about that, too.

“Think they will?” he asked.

Walt shrugged, toying idly with his glass on the table. “Keep me down here long enough and I guess we’ll see.”

Javi nodded, feeling more amused by the notion than he should’ve. “We’ll see.”

#narcos #narcos mexico #narcos: mexico #nmx #narcos mx #javier peña #javier pena #walt breslin #chris feistl #daniel van ness #oc diego ramirez #oc diego #narcos fanfiction #narcos mexico fanfiction #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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fanficwritinggremlin · 2 years

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Narcos: Alternative Scenario Season 3

Part 2

Tag list: @leylinefiction @lettherebrelight @clonesupport @seltsamkind @spacebaby1 @maevesdarling @mirabee @mmasalva @mari0217 @mariabolivar12 @alices-halcyon @ashlingnarcos @thesolotomyhan @kesskirata @narcolini @narcos-narcosmx @frostingguruu @fleurfatale89 @jamesfllint @love-affair-with-fandoms @lulalottee @emofairyprincessofarkansas @cositapreciosa @aschera-hunter @lene-ah @mental-bycatch @nicolethered @lexisgraceh @mariasabana @enchantingeggslimepeanut @nervousfestivalpastaalmond @guitita @artemiseamoon @shnadaidas @anna596903 @mobiushusband @curlsinaclip @tripfairground @unicorn-cloud @starfishkl

WARNINGS: deaths of characters, angst, grief, self-hatred, cursing, alcohol use… I don’t know what else, we will see.

A/N: The reader of the story is a Colombian police officer who works in the Technical Services. Not paired with anyone of the show, she is the younger sister of Colonel Martinez. Also, the story takes place after Gilberto Rodriguez’s arrest, how long after? That depends on the part of the story. This is an alternative ending for Colonel Hugo Martinez, as the writers didn’t really satisfy me with theirs.

SUMMARY: The Cali Cartel wants to get revenge for Gilberto, who has been arrested by Colonel Martinez, and they get to come up with a sinister idea…

Somewhere in 1983

You were at work, having to deal with narcotraffickers in Medellin and the dumbass DEA agents that were assigned to do the same. Hugo Jr was at your mother’s house –you and his father were siblings from different mothers- and your beloved brother was chasing rebels in the jungles of Colombia without giving a sign of life. Your first year of everything: work, grief for your sister-in-law, away from your brother, babysitting your nephew almost alone –thank God you had your mother alive so that you could balance work and an 11 year old child.

While having a little amount of spare time, you would call to check out on your nephew. However, there was a problem. No one was answering the phone and that started to worry you a lot because you were trying to have your mind on both family and criminals. You were about to go crazy and your frenemy Murphy was trying to comfort you but suddenly, you exploded and left whatever you were doing, entered your car rapidly and started driving as if someone was chasing you. Steve and Javi were staring in a way like they couldn’t recognize you. You see, since the first day they met you, they knew you as a young, quiet and innocent girl. Therefore, they could never expect you to go that crazy.

When you finally arrived at your mother’s, you invaded in the house and started shouting names in order to get a response, but you could hear nothing. That shit was driving you so crazy that you started feeling like the whole world was fading away from your sight, tears were welling out of your face and you couldn’t even control your own breath. Long story short, you were going through a panic attack, pretty usual for you since a damn day, when your dear nephew was a toddler and fell from the couch while you were distracted by your sister-in-law’s voice. Even though no one scolded you, the first panic attack of yours was inevitable. Since then, you had been really overreacting when it came to babysitting and everyone in the family was worried about your mental state. You needed a psychologist, but your brother’s consolation literally saved you from completely losing your mind. This time, though, there was nobody around to help you out with this. That was what you thought, but your mother rushing from upstairs towards you proved that there was still an angel to save you.

“Oh my God, calm down daughter!” your mom was trying to comfort you while you were in her embrace.

“Where is he, mama?” you yelled at her crying.

“Upstairs, sweetheart. Please relax.”

“Relax? Are you kidding me? Why the hell were you not picking up the phone, Goddamn you?” you were shouting, while you were about to smash a vase on the floor.

That was the moment when your mother completely stopped recognizing you, her own daughter. She always knew that you were worried about little Hugo, but she had never imagined how far that concern of yours would go. She also was aware of the fact that if she tried to grab the glass object from your hand, she would be physically defeated. No, you weren’t a violent person, but when you were losing your shit, God himself was scared of you. All she could do at the moment was waiting for you to relax by yourself, while she was trying to give you some water. Not even trying to explain why she wouldn’t answer the fucking phone. Nevertheless, your temper started lowering when Hugo Jr came out of nowhere, asking if you were alright. The world had returned to your sight when you heard his voice and that made you leave the vase back to its place. Your mind was clear again and you could finally realize what was happening moments ago. Guilt was surrounding your mind and you apologized to both of them for not being able to keep your shit together.

“No need to apologize, daughter. I should have answered the phone instead of getting you to leave your work. I just… could not tell you because something happened and it was my fault. And I was afraid of telling you because I knew that you would start crying…” Your mother was trying to justify herself, a bit ashamed of looking at you.

“She is saying the truth, auntie. All I wanted is just go to the cemetery and talk to mom. So I left the house while grandma Linda was doing the chores, but on my way there I got lost and I had to find a way to get back to her, without you learning anything about it. Just don’t blame her, auntie. It was all my fault.” Hugo Jr interrupted her and started confessing to you with a look of complete guilt.

All you knew at the moment? You were feeling emotionally defeated. You couldn’t blame him for doing such a stupid thing. How could you? The boy had lost him mom due to disease and had to say goodbye to his father who was obliged to go to the jungles. All this shit in the same year. You were the only family left to raise him as long as it would last for your brother to take out the FARC. He wasn’t really feeling familiar with your mother as she was sometimes weird and not really good at raising children. You knew that firsthand, but you loved her anyways.

You slowly walked towards him and nuzzled his head in your neck. “I understand that. But please, don’t scare my heart like that again.” You whispered in his ear, trying not to break down for the second time.

Present

That angsty memory and any other of those that occurs to your mind while you were driving in despair to find a sign of life from your nephew had your soul out of your body and not even agent Feistl’s efforts to comfort you would work. Your brother was calling you to ask if you had found anything, but you were too frustrated to pick it up. That fucking memory. It was about to get repeated. You thought you were on the peak of a panic attack as you were losing control of your lungs and therefore your hands that were trying to hold the steering wheel steady. Thank God you had Chris sitting next to you, if it wasn’t for him, you would have crashed somewhere and get injured or dead.

“Maybe I should pick it up, shouldn’t I? I mean, he is a worried brother or he might have found something.” Chris said out of concern, while holding the steering wheel with you.

“Do it. Answer it.” You replied coldly.

“Colonel Martinez. Agent Chris Feistl here.”

“Have you two found anything? If not, just get back to the station.”

“Copy that, Colonel… *another phone rings* Oh… Ehm… Excuse us, sir…”

You stop the car aside, grab it and talk in a commanding manner. “Yes, please!”

“Trujillo here. Ehm…*sighs*”

“For God’s sake, Trujillo, say it! Sorry.” You yelled but you instantly calmed down, trying to control yourself for the millionth time.

“Ok… We found something... Behind the Colonel’s house... Tell him...” Trujillo stuttered, afraid of your reaction.

You hung up the phone without letting Trujillo finish his sentence and commanded Chris to inform your brother and his colleagues. Honestly, you were shivering internally out of fear and didn’t have the courage to tell Hugo what you were suspecting. You were wishing that it wasn’t anything horrible there, just Trujillo making a mistake or something that didn’t have to do with your family and should worry you that much. A children’s dark prank or just a corpse of a cat. Generally, you were trying to keep the worst possibilities out of your mind while Chris was doing what you told him to.

You finally arrived exactly where you were told to go to, coincidently and almost crashing Hugo, Steve, Javier and Daniel who were in the car next to you. But who was giving a shit about it at that moment? Everyone was worried about what would possibly be behind your brother’s house and wished that it was nothing serious. All of you started walking at a fast speed rate towards the back of the house and Goddamn it… Goddamn the Cali Cartel! You all got frozen like ice statues when you saw what you didn’t wish to. Poor little Hugo! He was laying on the ground, dead, physically hurt, surrounded by stray cats that were licking the dried blood on his body and flies that got attracted by the odor of his corpse. However, that was only the reason of your heart just shattering. What actually broke you was the reaction of your brother. He was knelt down, in front of the dead body of his son that he pulled in his arms and had it nuzzled in his neck, crying franticly over it, with Javier from behind trying his best to comfort the poor father who lost his child in such a brutal way, while Chris was holding you so that you wouldn’t collapse and break down and Murphy was keeping himself from tearing up as he couldn’t help but feel sorry as a father himself he was.

“I’m sorry, my heart. I am such a disappointment. Please, just stay here. Don’t leave me. Please…” Hugo’s grieving words could be heard, making every single person around, parent or not, understand the pain of loss again and feel terrible. Especially you, his sister, the aunt of that poor young man, who was devastated and making efforts to keep herself strong for the sake of her grieving brother. But fuck, could you? No, you could not! You had literally raised your nephew since he was a baby. You were the one to teach him the basics, like writing, reading, two languages, the numbers, good manners… all of that when his parents did not have pretty much time to do that. You were the person to help him deal with his bullies at the first days of school. You were the one to teach him about the radios and the whole technology before he started taking these technical classes. You were the only person he had for the first three years he was grieving his mom. You and his father made him feel useful in the Technical Services when he was doubting himself. But all of this… for what? For what? Just for him to get murdered and deserted behind his father’s house like he was some kind of trash! You were feeling that every single effort that was put on him by you and everyone who loved him was a waste of time and life.

Your face was a complete piece of ice because of the shock and your attempt to keep yourself emotionless. But a wave of Daniel’s hand and a piece of thick paper snatched from Hugo that Trujillo handed you brought you back to the world you were actually living in- you wish you weren’t, though. It was covered by blood and the darkness wasn’t really helpful for you to read, so you took a flashlight out of the car and aimed it at the paper, which was saying:

“That was for arresting Gilberto. However, we told him to save himself and his family, but guess what? He was as stubborn as you are. Maybe we would never think of touching this one if you hadn’t made an operation over your dear son. And perhaps, if Captain Calderon hadn’t recommended him to us. Personally,

Miguel and David Rodriguez”

That’s it. You were already done with this nightmare. Everyone was guilty in your mind. The Cartel, Calderon who told them about your brother, the government that had been their ally since day one, the entire shitty world, reality and even yourself. You wished you were the one dead instead of Hugo Jr. You thought that if it had gone like that, your brother would suffer less and everything would be better. You see, you were a child of an extramarital affair and you were never loved by your father, your mom was doing her best to give you what he didn’t want. Therefore, you always had thought that your brother hated your existence and saw you as the reason of his parents’ divorce, which was something that you as well believed and made you insecure. That’s exactly why your nephew wasn’t really confident about himself his entire life. He had taken this after you and knew your whole backstory and was trying to make you believe that you deserved something beautiful in this world. Thing is? So fucking did he! But David took that from him because he wanted to make his arrogant father proud, cover his own insecurities and become greater than everyone around him.

Your mind was turning into a mess while having that shitty note in your grasp. You didn’t have the mental strength you needed to comfort Hugo and convince him that none of this was his fault. It wouldn’t help him after all. So all you were able to do at the moment was walk away from the scene and the people around you to get the pain and sorrow out of your soul, otherwise you would explode in front of everyone and everything would be worse. However, you had Murphy following you and trying to prevent you from smashing the cars from your anger and despair.

“Listen. I may not understand what you are going through, but…” Steve was trying to calm you down, but it wouldn’t work.

“Why the fuck? Why? He didn’t deserve this!” you started yelling and crying with no control of yourself.

“Please, just…”

“No! I cannot just relax, Murphy! My nephew is dead and my brother will be suffering for the rest of his fucking life…healing a pain that will never fade away! And I cannot do anything for that because I am not strong enough!” you interrupted him while hitting the car window with your whole force.

“I know you are hurt. But please… try to stay strong. Both of you have to. That’s what the little Martinez would want. You know that, for real.” Steve kept begging calmly, trying to lower your temper as much as he could.

Steve’s attempts to comfort you started to have an effect on you. Your anger levels were slowly going down, you were regaining your strength, cleared your teared face, when you got pulled in his embrace. The two of you went back to where everyone else was, then you knelt next to Hugo and hugged him from behind, trying to be his anchor at the moment. After all, he desperately needed that. And so did you. When the mourning was finally over, you led him to the front of his house to rest and after that, you dealt with the typical police stuff.

The next evening…

There was dead silence in the house. Completely different from how it used to be when you were younger and your sister-in-law was still alive. Nothing was the same anymore, and it was saddening you, while you started feeling nostalgic and missing the beautiful memories of your childhood and teenage life, with an old ruined teddy bear into your arms, your face nuzzled on its head and a mini bottle of whiskey in one of your hands that was half empty. You were trying to drown your grief in alcohol, but each sip was either an old memory or the picture of the corpse of Hugo Jr. Your mind was being lost, the world was falling apart again in your own point of view and everything in general was going to hell. Your heart was broken to you and you weren’t able to keep it anymore. All you could do was just lie on the bed and cry out everything that was torturing you internally with your eyes tightly shut. But being silent while doing that was truly difficult if not impossible, which made you bite the teddy, lucky that your teeth weren’t falling out of your mouth.

You suddenly felt a hand caressing your arm softly and a pair of lips kissing your head, which made you sit up and clean your face when you saw your brother. “I’m sorry…Hugo. I…didn’t notice…”

But a sign of his hand while he was sitting on the bed got you shushed. “You apologize for feeling pain for his loss? Just because I was his father and you his aunt…it doesn’t mean that I am the only one allowed to cry openly. He meant a lot to both of us, not only me. I am the one supposed to apologize.”

You took a sip of the liquid in your hand, frustrated from his last words. “Stop it! Don’t blame yourself, for God’s sake! None of this was your fault! You did what you had to…and nobody expected this to happen. When are you gonna understand this?” you started shouting, but after a couple of seconds, you apologized out of shame.

He was about to answer to your intense words, when the door started ringing. You thought that it was Murphy or Javier to say “sorry for your loss” and stuff, so you jumped out of the bed and got downstairs to open, without even looking at the eye of the door. But…none of these two dumbasses were in front of you. It was even worse, Calderon. What the fuck was he doing here? He firstly threatened Hugo that he would be out of line, called him a dumbass and long story short, disrespected him. And he was here for what now? For another quarrel or something? You weren’t really glad with his presence.

“What the hell do you want now? Another argument? Please. Just get lost already!” you commanded him without allowing him to say anything.

“Before you start cursing me, let me explain…I was informed about what happened and…” he tried to justify his visit, but you didn’t buy a single word.

“Explain what? That you gave them my nephew so that you could punish my brother after you failed to save Gilberto from jail? That you don’t give a single fuck about anything but your own ego? That you pretend to be the savior of Cali when in reality, you work for them? Which one of these you want to explain? Talk, you…”

But your brother’s steps interrupted you from calling Calderon a bitch. “Who are you yelling at?” he asked before seeing the other man standing in front of you.

“Apologies for bothering, Colonel. I just wanted to say that I am sorry for your loss, but your sister…”

“My sister what? Started yelling at you when she saw one of the people who were responsible for my son’s death? Our own suffering? Can you blame her for that?” Hugo inquired calmly, something that neither you nor Calderon expected.

“I don’t understand. Why would you think that I had something to do with this?” Calderon started acting stupid.

That was the moment when you started feeling raw hate for a cop, especially someone superior to you. You already had your fist tight, ready to punch him, but you decided to control yourself this time. “Don’t sweat it. Miguel and David made sure that we would learn about you. I should be surprised with your audacity to step here and pretend to be sorry for what we are going through after leading my brother’s son to his demise, but for a reason, I am not.” You told him in the most preserved manner you could without much physical distance between the two of you, having Hugo stare at you like…he really waited for you to throw your fists and be violent.

“You may not expect to hear that, but I am not pretending to be anything. Not at that moment, at least. I admit that I gave the younger Martinez to David. Yes, I did that, but not for punishment. David…he started threatening me and my family after Gilberto went to prison and wanted revenge from me. And that’s how your son came to their mind, Colonel. But I never expected them to kill him, I swear. My family learned about this, and they left me. I have no chances of being forgiven, redeemed…” Calderon was trying to explain.

“If you really made your way to Bogota just to explain yourself, we are pleading you to leave. Neither my sister nor I are in the mood to listen to your excuses. I don’t really know about her, but I can forgive you. It’s the best punishment for what you have caused. ”Hugo requested while leading him out of the house and went to his bedroom after giving you a soft kiss on the forehead.

However, you were thinking. What if Calderon was saying the truth, just for once? What if he actually regretted for everything he did? Did Hugo really mean his forgiveness or he just wanted to get rid of him? You couldn’t be sure about anything these days. Nothing was how it seemed or how you remembered it. But what you were certain for at the moment was the fact that you were feeling terribly tired. Were you surprised, though? The last night’s incident, your mental state, alcohol, the brief conversation with Calderon, your frustration. You were so about to fall asleep on the floor, that you decided that sleeping in the couch would be a great idea.

#narcos #narcos fanfiction #imagine #narcos imagine #colonel martinez #hugo martinez #hugo martínez jr #javier peña #steve murphy #chris feistl #daniel van ness #trujillo #part 2 #alternative scenario #alternative ending

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