Road Trip!

[The Butcher]

Outside Tella's apartment, a horn beeped the tune of La Cucaracha over the sounds of passing cars and bustling streets.

Benny puffed on a cigar as he waited, fingers drumming on the car door, shades over his eyes. He wasn't nervous often, and still wasn't now. Save the nervousness for later. They had a trip ahead of them, plenty of time to plan. But it'd been a while since he'd been to Mexico, and the last time... hadn't ended very well. He hoped this would go smoother.

Yeah, right.

Of course Tella didn’t come down the first time Benny honked. Or the second, or the third. A little orange drake fluttered up to the window of the sun room she’d set up as Mac’s office to blink at him. Their little tail ticked along to the song every time he blew the horn.

The paper company her loft was above looked busier than it had a month or two ago. Vehicles were delivering and picking up reams and boxes of paper, and there were always customers inside. Even in RhyDin, paper should have been waning, not booming - but In the Cards was living up to its name.

Either wedding season was giving them a stationery boom, or the business was a clever front for one of Tella’s schemes. The trickle of chain-smoking couriers to and from the storefront and the loading dock around back indicated the latter.

Around honk #5, Tella came out with a suitcase, a large travel bag, a small travel bag, and her purse - each full to bursting. She was wearing sunglasses that almost lined up with her eyepatch, a silk scarf over her hair that would have been fashionable for driving in sixty years ago, high-waisted pants and chunky sandals and a polka dot blouse.

“You’re early,” she lied as she moved to the trunk. No he wasn’t. She was late.

"No I'm not. You're late." Always one to state the obvious. Benny was used to it by now, rolling his eyes and checking the Rolex on his wrist. They had a schedule to keep. He turned the key, starting up the car. Noticeably, the once pristine red leather seats were covered in tiny cat hairs. "Thought we agreed this wasn't a holiday?" he commented, glancing at her many many bags.

“It’s Multiversal Flagmakers Day,” she lied, again. Once she had her luggage stowed, she sat down and angled the rearview mirror to check her lipstick. “If you don’t think it’s a holiday, then take it up with the flagmakers, I suppose.”

Benny gave her the familiar look of wondering whether she was either totally insane or just smarter than everyone else, before just shaking his head and starting the car up. "Okey... You remember the schedule?" He said, as casually as possible to not let on that he knew full well she hadn't bothered to read it.

“I knew I’d forgotten something.” Her lies often came in threes. She’d memorized it. “Don’t worry - I know where we can make up the time.” She gave him the smile she reserved for when she switched to honesty, to keep people guessing.

“How’s the kitten?” she said, as they set off for their next destination. Benny gave her a bewildered glance at that smile. He didn't trust it. Then again, he rarely trusted anything she said. The car cruised down the street, Benny steering with one hand and smoking with the other. "At that cat café place until we get back. He ripped up my sofa. How does something so small have so much... violence."

Smoking made her smoke, too. “Get him a sitter next time.” Her tone shifted to something distracted sounding, which she adopted when giving sincere advice. “He’ll only act out when you’re around. It’s better to keep him there and keep him to a routine. Put double sided tape on your sofa corners for a few weeks, and a scratching post next to it.”

She clapped her lighter shut, took a drag, and smiled over at him. “I’m kind of small from your point of view, aren’t I.”

He took in the cat information with careful attention, noting it down in his head. He had a good memory. Though he struggled to think of any sitters… "Yes. You are." He said with only the tiniest level of smugness. "But you tend to leave the violence to me." Benny checked his watch. "Fifteen minutes late, but I don' think Dí will mind." He shoved a burner phone in front of her face. "Call her, I'm driving."

“Always.” Regarding violence. She was back to her lies. She dialed with the quiet tap of her fingertips. ”Calling Delia,” she intoned in the smooth yet stilted way of a phone or navigation app as the phone rang.


It seemed as though it might ring to voicemail, the dial tone's chime sounding like tin through the cheap burner. On the beat before it would have, a wary voice answered with a single word. "Yes?"

Tella recognized the voice. She also recognized the wariness. *”D? It’s T. I’m with B.” The sound of Benny’s car’s engine could be heard in the background. She bit her lip, looked over at Benny with an eyebrow raised, then asked Delia, “How are you?”

"Mm, I'm not supposin' you're callin' for a catch up chat, T." A slow Dockside brogue, well won in her years, hummed from her end. "But well as can be. I s'pose this means it's time for our road trip, aye?"


“We can catch up on the way.” Tella frowned thoughtfully. How to put it… She heard the brogue and named a Dockside dive she knew of that had closed and since become a laundromat. (If anyone was listening, it would likely take them longer to find the place than a local.) “B’s having a little trouble with landmarks… Let’s pick you up at Saiki by the Sea. Is that okay?”

"Works for me. How long we talkin'?" Her relief was earnest. It meant she would get out of the safe house and do so without compromising its location. Plus she actually knew where Tella was talking about.

“How much is the Jackass Special?” Anyone listening in would be confused. Anyone watching would be MORE confused, as she visibly directed Benny to make a wrong turn. “We’ll see you then.”

Tella, for her question, got a chuckle, likely the first to have lived on the half elf's lips in some time. But an affirmation preceded the ending of the call so that she could gather her things and set out for the three minute walk to Saiki by the Sea. At the four minute mark, she was there, with a backpack half slung on one shoulder and a narrow rectangular hardcase over the other, looking like a proper vagrant in loose fitting jeans and a sweatshirt with the hood tugged up over her head.

As soon as she’d hung up, she told Benny, “She’s not at her apartment. She’s in hiding. Take the next right, then right again at High Street, past the new night market. Don’t slow down. Don’t look for her. I will,” she said, and tapped her black sunglasses for emphasis. “If I turn on the radio, pull over. Otherwise, keep driving to the waterfront, cut through the parking lot, and circle back.”

She set her cigarette back between her lips and pulled her purse into her lap. Delia would be there on the first pass, but she wasn’t sure of that yet.

Behind her, the warm glow of a laundromat welcomed Docksiders to the thrum and hum of machines and the clean scent of detergent. A pair of kids, not quite old enough for school just yet, made a game of running in and out of the doors while their assuredly tired caretaker inside spared only scant glances their way through glass that could use a good window washer. Delia watched them for a few moments, wondering how Molly's children were doing and if they were enjoying their escape from the city upon a fairytale-esque pirate ship. Her pondering set firm resolve in the draw of her mouth and line of her jaw, soft though it may have been.

Benny gave Tella the usual look of confusion as she went on and on and led him on strange routes... but when she gave those clear and concise instructions, he understood. This was more serious than he'd anticipated. He said nothing. Benny was always the type to follow orders without question. Bosses change, but orders are orders. He was a soldier. That's how the world worked for him. He didn't look for Deliah, as told, his face setting into the rigid, mechanical and well practiced nature that he took on when he was "working". Being with Tella allowed him to let his guard down. Now was a reminder that he couldn't let himself get complacent.

Especially not in Juaréz.


The first pass was at the five minute mark. Benny’s driving - and his clear understanding of the situation - meant Tella could focus on other things. She had one hand in her purse when she leaned forward to turn on the radio, and Benny stopped the car next to Delia.

Somewhere during the drive, the knot in the strap of her eyepath had come loose. Only the sunglasses held it in place now. Jostle it the wrong way and it would fall. “Rhuber for Dee?” she asked with a smile, and unlocked the doors so she could let herself in.

Benny said nothing, eyes on the road. Silent, for quite a while.

Before he glanced at Delia, nodding for her to get in.

Delia and Benny never really interacted much, to his knowledge. She was just the barmaid, then the manager. Alik's friend. She was cool in his book.

The bob of her chin upwards acknowledged Tella's call, ruffling her hood without knocking it back. With a last glance for the children playing in the laundromat's entrance, Delia grabbed for the rear passenger side door and, once opened, tossed her bag in first, followed by the hard case that had been slung on her opposite shoulder. She scooted in to the back seat, closed the door, and reached for the seat belt.

Safety first, right?

"Hope it wasn't too hard to find." She finally relaxed once she was buckled in and they could be on their way. "I brought snacks too."

Benny made sure they sped away, not slowing down until they were out of Dockside entirely. Thankfully, he knew how to keep a car steady when on getaway. Shouldn't have been too jarring, he hoped.

He kept quiet, letting Tella do the talking. She was better with the whole... people thing.

“Is anyone looking for you?” she asked, once they were out of Dockside, and she had secured her eyepatch once more. Questions could seem sharp. She decided to soften the edges by offering a trade. “I brought snacks, too.”

She angled her purse. There were a number of mini liquor bottles, and a few packs of cigarettes.

"Not anymore." She hummed quietly, glancing out the window as the brick and mortar of Dockside zipped by, faster and faster until brine sodden air was a memory and the rough and tumble of the district bled away into the understated simplicity of the city's Old Temple district. Leaning forward in her seat, she peered into Tella's purse and cracked her first smile of the ride. A hand pushed back her hood before reaching for one of the little bottles. Something amber that would burn nicely on the way down. In turn, she opened the front pouch of her backpack to reveal neatly zipped up hand packed baggies of baked cheese crackers, dried meat jerky, and nut-berry-and-chocolate trail mix. "Trade ya?"

“Ooooo. Benny, we have trail mix - with the no-brand M&Ms!” She snagged a baggie, filled her hand with trail mix, and tipped it into her mouth. Crunch, crunch, crunch. “I don’t know our itinerary,” she lied again, “which means that we can play my favorite game. Do you know it?” An unrestrained eyebrow raised, and she smiled.

As they breezed through the outer city limits, Benny's eyes flitted from the road to his rear view mirror, constantly, before looking over at Delia through it. "... Anything gonna cause trouble for us?" Not exactly what he meant to say, but he was learning. He didn't wanna know anything beyond whether this would complicate things. With a civilian in tow, that was the last thing he wanted.

Or, well... was she still a civilian?

"The plain label ones stay intact longer." Delia nodded sagely. Fingers pinched and twisted at the tiny bottle's cap until she could spin it free and raise the bottle first in salute to those in the front seat before knocking it back. It wasn't much, no more than a shot really, but it was enough to set the tone and take the edge off. Her gaze met Benny's in the rear view, brows lifting. Unsure as to how much he knew and what, if anything, Glitch may have told him or Dunham, she simply shrugged. "Not that I know of... my place got a little messy so I was stayin' with a friend til it got cleaned up. Mess maker's no problem anymore though."

“It’s hard to come back to a messy place. I avoid it when I can,” Tella blink-winked at Delia, and lit a cigarette. Never mind that her smile seemed a little muted, given what both parties meant by ‘messy.’

“Do you think there’ll be a pool, where we’re staying? I brought a few swimsuits, just in case. And a dress for a nice dinner… a dress for dancing… a sun dress…” She tallied her luggage. There was a great deal more than that - though some of the items were made up.

Benny groaned, rubbing his forehead. "Not a holiday." he reminded them. Futile-ly. "... but yes, there's a pool. Dunham said you're blending in as tourists." Best cover. Best.

"From everything I read, dresses are great for this Mex-ee-co." Her luggage was rather condensed, she couldn't even pretend to have brought an excess judging by the backpack's size. A closer examination showed though that she was doing her best to blend in based on the hint of glamour that concealed the pointed tips of her ears and made her look, well, less Rhydinian. It's hard out here for a half-elf.

This was not easy, comparing luggage and supplies from front seat to back seat. “Did you bring sunglasses? Hold on—“

As soon as Benny had to stop, Tella crawled from the front to the back seat. Halfway through this process, as she stretched over the console, she asked Benny, “How much further to the gate?“

They'd pulled over on a small dirt road, on the way towards Cadentia, Benny lit himself another cigarette. He was already imagining how long this trip would be... "Five minutes or so that way. Straight to Dallas, then we go El Paso." He grunted a bit when Tella climbed over. Hard to do without bumping the driver. Benny, meanwhile, had a reasonably sized suitcase in the trunk. Clothes, fake passports and ID for the three of them. All he needed.

There was another important question in here. Did Benny need sunglasses in addition to Delia? "Did you bring sunglasses?"

Benny went from driver to chauffeur in one awkward climb from Tella. Delia pulled her backpack off the bench set and squished it between her feet on the floor and took the hard case and set it in the back window. It would make quite the flying object if they got into a car accident, but Delia supposed if that happened, they had other things to worry about.

"Sunglasses... yes! Yes, I did." She went rummaging through her back until she found an oversized, absolutely ginormous pair of cat eye sunglasses. Perfectly touristy. "They were only five silver at the corner store."

Benny looked at Tella, deadpan, through the black shades he had on his face since she'd gotten in the car.

Tella looked pointedly away when Benny looked back, smiling when she admired Delia's glasses. "Oh, those are cute! I love them. Maybe we can find another pair like that when we stop for gas."

Whose glasses would they be, though? Mwa ha ha...

"Have you been off-world before? Both of you! Benny, I know you've been to Earth and RhyDin, but what about other places?"

"I went to a place called Toril when I was very small. I don't remember it though, so this'll be my first time outta the city in some time." For that she was excited, if a bit nervous. "I've read a lot 'bout Earth or Terra or whatever they call it. The people there are strange an' war filled an' there has been some conflict or another raging for most of their existence. Should be fun, aye?"

Benny seemed confused by the question, having to think for a moment, silent while he let Delia answer first. Talking wasn't his strong suit. After a while, the car set off again down the slowly dirt-ifying road, out into the middle of nowhere between the boonies and the desert. "Eh... not really. Mos'ly here, and Earth... or... terra, or whatever. Born in Colombia, been to… Mexico, US, Nicaragua, Panama, Cuba, Belize... wen' to Europe a couple times..." he shrugged. Other people were much more exciting than he was.

“That’s quite a lot.” She leaned forward to smile at Benny from the back seat. “My parents liked to travel with me. I’ve been to Mexico, Brazil, Switzerland and France with them. The Dominican Republic, once, on my own. That was a Rhoupon eight years ago. Their honeymoon resorts are pretty nice. Kind of boring, though.”

She leaned back in her seat again and peeked over at Delia. “There’s not a war going on in the U.S. or Mexico that I know of, right now. But it is a pretty long and violent history. Oh - we could stop at the Alamo! I could tell you all aboit some pretty terrible historical figures.“

She fully expected a Benny-veto on this. That was fine. It was about the journey, not the destination.

"No detours." he grumbled. Benny-veto given. "Almost there, anyway." A ways down the road, an unassuming farm was sat in the middle of some scrublands on the road to the desert. Vans and trucks going in and out, not very suspicious. Aside from the armed men all around, especially by the barn.

All of these were names of lands that she had no clue about so she just nodded along, listening like it would educate her. In truth, she had heard stories about the place so many Rhydinians came from, read stories and folklore and history books, but nothing could truly prepare a traveler for going somewhere so drastically different. Though she was about to agree with Tella's desire to go to the Alamo, Benny quashed those dreams in one fell swoop. Lips turned down in a pout. "Mm, I guess you'll just hafta tell me 'bout this Al-ee-mo on the way."

Tella launched into an abridged version of the Texas Revolution, which was not generous to anyone involved - particularly Texian slaveowners who violated Mexico's bans; and then the standoff itself, and its role in the conflict.

"But people are drawn by the romanticized version of the battle, its visual distinctness, and that it is among the oldest buildings in Texas - the chapel was built in 1744. But I'm sure there are other historic sites along the way where we'll be stopping for reading material and souvenirs." Smile, smile, smile at the front seat, and Benny there. "Benny, is there anything that you'd really like to see?"

It may have been a setup for a brutal own. With one summer blue eye, she watched it fall into place benignly.

Benny grunted at the question. Chatty as always. "... Not really. Just here on business. Been in Juaréz plenty..." he paused. "... knew Falcón as a kid." There was a hint of an embarrassing omittance there.

"And for the last time, no. San Antonio is Gulf territory. I wanna avoid going anywhere near..." he paused again, glancing in the rearview mirror, and checking himself. Loose lips, and all that. "... that guy."

They pulled into the farm, the armed guards waving them in from the gate. As Benny's car rolled towards the barn, a familiar face stood by the doors, hands in the pockets of his dusty trench coat, the usual tired and overworked look on his face.

"You're late." Dunham said, once the car was in earshot. Not exactly a reprimand, just a statement.

There was more that Delia wanted to delve into but their arrival cut it short. She made a note of the name Benny said and unbuckled when the car came to a stop. Without taking her stuff out of the car, she slid out of the backseat and stationed herself near the closed door to fix Dunham with an even look from behind her oversized cat-eye sunglasses. Her expression impassive, she dipped a singular nod to the man. She knew she was on thin ice for this trip and elected not to speak, so that she didn't risk fracturing her precarious position with Dunham.

Dunham didn't seem all that pissed off. Seemed he'd accepted that it was too late to change plans now. While Benny unloaded the luggage, Dunham took the brief opportunity while the other two were out of earshot to mumble to Delia quietly. "... Do me a favour... don't make me regret this. And for the love of God, don't get yourself killed." he sighed, arms crossed. "... pub would probably just up and collapse without you there." he chuckled.

"... Lotta luggage for a not-holiday." he added.

“A fixer must be prepared for every occasion. In there?” she said, hefting one of the suitcases to help Benny. “My tools.”

A little more soberly, quick and businesslike, she asked, “You can reach us across worlds if anything happens on your end?”

"It's all Benny's." Delia said dryly. "He's looking forward to some poolside sun." Just the same, she heard Dunham out, her expression cracking only briefly for a smile that, had she not been wearing sunglasses, wouldn't have quite reached her eyes. "Promise I'll keep m'nose clean, Boss."

Taking the opportunity to lean in to grab her backpack and case, she put one on each shoulder to show it was all she had brought. Easy. Even with the front pocket of the backpack still hanging open to reveal snack baggies.

Better than smuggling product, she supposed.

"If I couldn't reach you, I wouldn't be sending you." Dunham said, as he lit himself a cigarette.

Benny gave Dunham a world-weary look as he hauled most of the many bags out of the car and over to the barn. Dunham took one of them as two of the guards, Rhy'din locals, opened the barn doors. They exchanged nods, and a subtle fist bump, as they walked inside.

The barn interior had been repurposed as a warehouse, pallets of shrink wrapped bales, white, brown and green, stacked boxes of pills, and on one side, crates marked with military stamps in many different languages. Weapons, purchased from every shady government and off-books arms dealer in the western hemisphere. The back wall seemed... hazy. Like a mirage.

"There's the gate. Farm was built around it." Dunham said, as he set the luggage down nearby, Benny following suit.

Tella's wide-eyed (singular), seemingly awestruck look around at her surroundings served two purposes: One, it reinforced any notions that onlookers may have had that she was "ditzy," and easily amazed, someone to underestimate. Two, it allowed her to take in the details of the operation here. What went to and from Earth through this place? What did that mean for the various forces and factions at work on either side of the gate? What were the levers of power, and who had their hand on them? Who worked here? Who all were they answerable to?

"I don't think I've ever seen anything like it before," she mused out loud. Her musing was also a lie, implying that most of her attention was on the mechanics of the gate itself. She glanced aside at Dunham, and elected to pick this time to fish a cigarette out of her purse - another toe dipped in the water to see what would snap its jaws at her.

In contrast, Delia played the part of peripheral civilian, head down, eyes on the ground, focused upon the heels of whoever was in front of her to make sure she didn't run into them as they walked into the barn. For all her time at the Phoenix, she had operated on a Need-to-know basis and this was not something she needed to know. Therefore, she didn't visually soak it all in even if she was counting her footsteps and committing to memory every little sound that touched her glamoured ears. When they stopped short of the gate, she too halted and lifted her gaze just enough to cast it toward the haze ahead. An odd portal, for sure, but not the strangest she had seen.

Dunham took a seat on a crate, observing the two's very different reactions. He had a bit of a smug expression, even if he knew well enough not to believe a word that came out of Tella's mouth. "... One of many. Workers loyal to the Phoenix, all owned and operated by us. This is why Rhy'din is so valuable to the Colombians. Direct routes to the good ol' US of A. No planes, no customs, no smuggling routes. We've got gates going straight from Colombia to here to get the product in, and gates going from here to every major city in the US, and more than a few to Europe and Asia." he paused, sighing. "... Alik's brainchild... cut out the Mexican middleman. Made the Colombians untouchable... and made us indispensable."

Seemed at this point, he didn't mind what Delia knew. Taking on this job... she was in the game anyway.

"But we'll be going across a border, won't we?" Tella asked, hugging herself with one arm as she looked between Dunham and Benny. "There are a lot of badges between Dallas and Juarez."

Dunham pointed a finger, smirking. "Correct. This gate will take you to a rundown warehouse in Arlington. From there you'll head through Fort Worth, and take the I-20 to El Paso. Like you said, there's a lot of badges on the way, and for obvious reasons we want to stay under the radar of Johnny Law and his friends in the DEA. Which is why you're going to leave any contraband here. Don't worry, it'll all be ready when you get back."

He stood up and began pacing, smoking his cigarette as he talked. "You'll be crossing at Paso del Norte, into Juaréz. The guards there are... friendly. You'll be let through. Benny has your identification. Once you're on Mexican soil, you'll be given a rendezvous address to meet up with our contact, who'll advise you from there."

"Any questions?"

Delia kept her eyes down just the same, seldom peeking up save to steal a look at the impending portal. For all of her and Tella's joking, she still understood how serious this was, especially in the wake of the Rafa Incident. Which is what she now referred to that whole debacle in her head, at least for the sake of compartmentalizing it all in such a way that she could box it up and stash it into the far recesses of her consciousness along with things like the death of her parents and that time Runkin Donuts gave her decaf on her way to a triple shift.

"Including weapons orrrrrrrr just like, the sorta stuff that'll getcha thrown in a border jail cell with the traffickers an' mules too dumb t' use the tunnels?" She asked, just loud enough for Tella, Dunham, and Benny to hear.

Tella removed a few weapons from her purse and carry-on. A Makarov pistol, a snub-nosed revolver, a taser, mace, and two little makeup kits that turned out to hold the pieces of a .22 rifle - with a little scope - that could be assembled in a minute or two by someone experienced. She tipped her head in Delia's direction, and gave her and Dunham a smile. "How about alcohol and cigarettes. Should those stay? I suppose if there's any question, any form to fill out or any attention on them, even if permitted - they should stay here."

Despite her question, Delia didn't cough up any weapons. Instead, she passed a hand across the long rectangular hard case's length and shook her head. Those sensitive to it might detect the faintest touch of illusory magic emanating from the pass of her hand. It was subtle though, there and gone as quickly as it arrived. "I'm clean."

"If you think it'll be a problem, leave it here. But I'd say you'll be fine with booze and cigarettes, just keep it outta sight. You should be waved right through. Benny knows which gate to go through." He explained, taking a drag of his cigarette and pausing as he watched Tella... being Tella. Benny was also staring.

Benny had left everything he couldn't bring at home, so busied himself with loading the luggage on a little trolley. Easier to roll through the gate.

Dunham gave Delia a curious look at what exactly she'd done... but took her word for it. After all, she was smart, and knew what was at stake.

"Right. Once you get through the border crossing, you'll be given an address. You'll meet our guy there, he'll get you any... supplies you might need, and he'll instruct you from there. Guy knows the place, and he knows Falcón. He'll help you find him."

Dunham began pacing, smoking his cigarette down to the filter before chucking it away. "... This is an important trip for us. For the businesses future. This goes wrong, we are in the shit. Do I need to state the obvious?" he looked over each of them in turn. "... This has got to go as smoothly and diplomatically as possible. But..." he paused. "... If you're threatened, or attacked... you defend yourself."

"With prejudice or with leniency?" Delia asked, following up on Dunham's hesitantly delivered statement at the end.

"By any means necessary." he said, somberly, mumbling as he looked away. "We can't afford to lose anyone else."

Delia stared at Dunham for an uncomfortably long time, her expression impassive. In fact, her face hadn't changed since getting out of the car. She simply eyed the man even as he looked away, watching his body language, the draw of his facial features. When she finally blinked, she did so with a diversion of her gaze and looked back to the portal with a nod. "It'll all work out, Khalreshaar willin'."

Tella had finished re-packing, punctuating Delia’s blessing when she zipped up her rolling suitcase. There was little chance she’d missed the half-elf’s cool regard for Dunham. She offered an odd little contrast by offering her Makarov pistol directly to Dunham. “Please take good care of it while I’m gone. We’ve been through a lot together.” The weapon looked restored and good as new, and like it hadn’t seen any action since then.

Dunham nodded, giving Tella a puzzled look. Best not to read too much into it. He put the weapon in the pocket of his coat, glancing at it for a moment beforehand.

"... Everybody ready?" he said, finally, looking around. Benny had been ready fifteen minutes ago, and was boredly leaning against a wall by the portal.

"All set and ready for vacation-land," Tella said with a bright, toothy smile as she hoisted her bags up under her arms. She was 100% just fucking with them now. Her eyebrow waggle Delia-ward was powerful enough for one to escape her eyepatch.

"Benny even said he had a speedo for poolside." Delia mused, tacking it on to Tella's theatrics. With that she adjusted her own baggage and took her first steps towards the portal. Stopping short of it, but only so long as she needed to for their progression.
In other words, yes, she was ready.

She walked backwards to line up with Delia, angling her head in a silent come on! to Benny, as if they'd been waiting on him all this time. The next blink was a wink.

Dunham nodded, steadying himself. "Good luck. All of ya." he said quietly, as he straightened his coat. Benny turned on a dime, rolling his eyes behind the sunglasses he definitely had, and stepping through.

They emerged into a dingy back room, little more than storage, from what it looked like. A dusty room, with boxes of crates and assorted junk, broken guitars, mattresses, etcetera. If they looked behind them, the portal back seemed like it wasn't there at all. Invisible and silent. Double doors sat ahead of them, the windows covered up from their side with newspaper.

"Well, he's inconspicuous alright..." Benny muttered rolling their small pushcart full of luggage along.

Delia's eyes adjusted quickly to the lighting but her stomach flipped hard enough as they moved through the portal that she thought she might lose her lunch. Thankfully she was able to swallow back the bile that rose in her throat and gave her head a shake once they were Earthside. In a single motion of one hand, she flipped her hood back up on her head and tugged her sunglasses down over her eyes. It didn't quite hide the wealth of fiery red hair that spilled over her shoulders, but it was easily passed off as natural or a really solid dye job, leaving most of her other more conspicuous features concealed in the meantime. "Think the musty old foot smell is intentional too?"

“Or is that just the smell of Dallas.”

The first thing Tella checked was that her phone - her ability to communicate - had made the switch to emulating a burner on Earth’s cellular networks. She tapped out a message to Dunham:

test. pls reply

She shoved one of the doors open ahead of Benny to help him through.

Benny led the way through the warehouse. They'd emerged from an old, disused office turned into a "storage" room into a large central area, high walls, pallets on pallets stacked against the walls of crates and shrink wrapped bales of product. Forklifts unloading product into trucks, almost a ton at a time. And all guarded, judging by the uniformed men around the place, by the Dallas Police Department. "Inconspicuous and efficient..." Benny muttered, stopping to look around. None of the workers seemed to want to say one word to them. In fact, they seemed to turn their heads deliberately. None of their business.

"Ah..." Benny said, walking over to three cars parked by the side of the room, a thin man smoking a cigarette next to it. Benny approached, saying something in Spanish and giving the man a brief fist bump. He turned back over his shoulder to the other two. "Pick any of 'em."

Dunham replied almost immediately. told you it worked. good luck.

Tella spammed several emoji in an inane string to Dunham. One of them may have been a thumbs up. Click, she locked the phone and slid it away in her purse as she took in the brazen operation. Her mouth formed an impressed ‘o’ but her eye told a different story.

Its dance was all calculus. She thought about risks and improvements from a few different angles.

But, at a glance, she seemed merely impressed!

And then there came the cars. The latest BMW 8 series she wrinkled her nose at. A luxurious new Maserati Quattroporte she actually squinted at. Both cars had all the options. No expense had been spared.

“Soulless,” Tella scoffed, and swept some old cardboard and a tarp off the hood of a car that had stayed spotless under its covering…
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"Oh no, friend, why have they got you all cooped up like this? But you're so handsome. Look at you, all dressed up in blue for a night out on the town." She was practically cooing at the old Pontiac Bonneville as she circled it. She slapped open the glovebox, leaned until one chunky sandal was bobbing in the air, turned the ignition long enough for it to remember what it was supposed to do, and it roared to life. Good battery.

And the radio roared to life, too. Whoever had run it last had left it on. Guitar, harp, and Julio Iglesias' crooning filled that end of the warehouse. Tella turned a look at Delia, bobbing her eyebrows until one broke free of her eyepatch, giving her a toothy smile as if to say, Yes. We are doing this. The look turned on Benny.

"You know it's not a road trip without tunes. This is perfect, Benny. Come on."

Benny turned briefly from the conversation with the man who apparently owned the warehouse, or ran it, or owned the cars or... something, anyway, to chuckle at Tella ignoring the brand new cars. He figured she'd go for the old one the second she saw it.

He rolled his eyes at the music, shaking his head as he stuffed a few bills into the man's breast pocket to pay for the car, and strolled over. "Absolutely not." he huffed, as he planted himself into the driver's seat... before second guessing, and getting out, motioning to Tella at the steering wheel. "She's all yours."

As he walked around to the passenger side, he glanced over at Delia. "Ey, c'mon. Was hoping for boots on the ground before four."

Glee! She was in the driver’s seat faster than a bullet. Her hands smoothed over the steering wheel while she waited.

Delia picked her spot in the back seat, perhaps the better to take in Earth as they ventured forth.

Which meant that the passenger seat was there. Honk honk! She beamed at Benny.

Benny hopped into the passenger seat with a sigh, tapping the dash. "'mon. Let's go." a pause, and he glared at the radio, turning it down a tad. There was a look exchanged between the two.

"... I ain't singing. Don't even try."

- - - -

A few hours later and they were headed down the highway, and Benny was shout-singing his heart out to Juan Gabriel.

"NO TENGO DINEEERO, NI NADA QUE DAR, LO 'NICO QUE TENGO 'S AMOR PARA 'MAR-"

Letting him pick the music had worked.

Tella tried hiding her wide, toothy grin behind a cigarette. It didn't work. This was everything she had dreamed of and more. This was their fourth -- fifth? -- time through the chorus, and she'd started picking up those words. "Si así tu me quieres, te puedo querer~" She didn't even try to compete with Benny's singing voice.

One wild summer-blue eye sought out Delia in the rear view mirror, and her eyebrow bobbed, ridiculously.

Once they made it through the portal, Delia had visibly relaxed. Though Earth had been a strange concept to her, her excitement for what might await them outweighed any apprehension. She had settled comfortably into the backseat, taking the opportunity to sprawl sideways, legs kicked up on the bench. Between snacks and drinks, she didn't even mind Benny's singing. But Tella's connection in the mirror prompted a fit of barely concealed giggles, covered by the lift of a hand and a quick stuff of trail mix into her mouth. "Tho, how mu'h long'uh til we ge' there?"

Benny's voice was automatically still loud as he went to answer Delia. "TWO HOU- ... sorry, two hours." he said, having turned the music down. His cheeks were a tad pink, with that kind of "oh god I just did something stupid lemme just play it off like nothing happened" kind of embarrassment. He hid it well. Probably.

"Keep your heads on a swivel when we get there, eh? I don' wanna stay any longer than I gotta." he paused, looking around at the scenery from the passenger side window. "... Tensions are high over there since the Paz del Norte. Three of us gonna stick out." He didn't elaborate, probably because he assumed they already knew what he meant.

Delia chewed thoughtfully, taking her time as she mulled Benny's response. After she swallowed, she spoke again. "Gonna stick out like sore thumbs, 'm sure. Do we need t' do somethin' about that?"

Her question implied she could.

"Whatever do you mean? I blend in perfectly... except for three or four... dozen... overt details." She ashed her cigarette easily, casually, and drove on as naturally as if she had two eyes and were driving an automatic - not someone with a narrower field of view, impaired depth perception, and handling a stick. "It's a good idea, though."

"You should be fine, no need for disguises or anything, just... try not to do anything to draw attention. We wanna find Falcón before he finds us." He shuddered a bit, then caught Delia's eye in the rear view mirror.

"You kinda barged in post-plan to say you were coming... want a refresher? Who, what and why, etc?"

She shook her head. "Not what I meant. I meant makin' it so we aren't so... ya know... us..."

A brush of her hand over her ear drew away the glamour there to reveal the hidden point that gave away her elven heritage. Another pass hid it once more before she traced over her own facial features. The silent motion of her lips resulted in a distortion of her appearance. Dimming shades, tightening or elongating or sharpening or rounding structure until she looked human as human could be and terribly un-Delia-like.

"That way if they're lookin' for us, it's not us they find."

Benny gave her a look. "... Hearing your voice coming outta not-your face is... weird."

"Besides, they don't know any of our faces. I mean... they know me, but..."

"Then if they know you, you're the one who most benefits from it."

He considered that for a moment, eyes narrowing as he weighed it up. "... Actually... No." He stuck a finger in the air for a minute, finding his train of thought. "... Yeah. No. I'm thinking... might be better if they do recognise me. If push comes to shove, I mean."

There was a pause, and Benny gave Tella a long look, biting his lip. "... I, uhh... Wasn't sure when I was plannin' on saying this, but... well..."

"... Salazar is, uh... my mother."
He cleared his throat before anyone could respond. "So, I doubt they'll wanna kill us after they learn that. Besides. I got a reputation. They see me, I figure that's a deterrent."

Excuse Tella, she was choking on smoke. This usually doesn't happen to her.

Delia also paused but managed not to choke. The lift of her brows came with the fading of her glamour until a very surprised Delia was peering at Benny from the back seat. "That... practically makes you a princess in this case, Benny."

Benny was going to have a new nickname.

"... mhm." Benny didn't seem to find any humour in it whatsoever. The faraway look out into the distance and the way he was subtly turning away and hunching his shoulders, shielding himself, suggested there was a reason he didn't like mentioning it.

"Anyway." he said, with a bit more of a punch to it. Subject was being changed whether they liked it or not. "... When we find Falcón, best let me do the talking. I know the guy. Pretty well." The thought of him seemed to bring a hint of a grin back to his face. "... crazy old bastard..."

Tella was recalibrating a few things in her head. Changing the subject just meant she had more time to make those adjustments. "Now that sounds like story time. What makes him so crazy? And how did he get to be so old and crazy and survive? Asking for a friend."

"... Guess we got a few hours to kill..." Benny sighed, lighting a cigarette for himself.

"Julio Falcón is old school. Always has been. Bandito type. Y'know, cowboy hat, fancy boots, bushy moustache, the works. Started out workin' for his dad, Ernesto, way back in the day. Independent smugglers. Liked to be their own bosses. Made their money shipping product up from Mazatlán into Tijuana on a little fishing boat."

He sighed. "Was going fine, 'til Félix Gallardo went down and everything went to shit. Once the dust settled, Tijuana was run by the Arellano Félix family... bad, nasty motherfuckers. After the cardinal got shot, the eldest brother Benjamín went into hiding, and his sister Enedina took over... had more of a strong touch. Ernesto owed a tax for everything he moved through their territory. Benjamín was lenient about it... Dina wasn't."

"Ernesto couldn't pay up what he owed, so 'Dina sicced the younger brother Ramón on him." Benny paused, shaking his head. "... Worst of the bunch. You think Rafa's bad... Crazy motherfucker who killed dozens of people. Probably hundreds."

"Burned their boat, and hung Ernesto's naked body off an overpass. Needless to say... Falcón didn't take it well."

"Got real friendly with El Mayo and the Sinaloans. He'd been doing pretty much the same thing as them, 'til he joined up with El Chapo. So, Enedina did the same thing. Sent Ramón down to Mazatlan with a few hard hitters to sort him out."

"Next thing you know, Ramón and his buddies were shot down by some of Sinaloa's men dressed as cops. And guess who led the group..." he smirked. "... I like to think he gave that rat bastard a piece of his mind, before he splattered Ramon's across the windshield."
"Few years later, Falcón drifted down to Juaréz, working for Amado Carrillo Fuentes. That's when I met him." he chuckled to himself for a moment, closing his eyes and glancing at the floor. "... He... well, he was kinda my babysitter when I was a kid, whenever we ended up in Juaréz."

After these revelations about Julio and his brutal history, Tella had a very important question. "What dessert did he give you and tell you not to tell anyone he gave you when he babysat?" She believed very strongly that most people were cute, deep down, even if only a little bit. This applied to Benny, and also to Julio Falcón.

Benny let out a quiet laugh, grinning off into the distance. "... Oh, man... Not him, his wife, Josefína. Julio can be a rotten bastard at times, but... she's an angel. Fried ice cream, sopapillas, dulce de leche..." he trailed off.

In one short hour, Delia had been treated to quite the history lesson. To think that only a few months prior, she had been largely in the dark about the darker side of the Phoenix's dealings. Rapt, she listened, leaning forward in the back seat so that she could hear it all. It was a bit like a Mexican telenovela, not as though she had actually watched them. But she had heard plenty from the girls she had worked with over the years.

"How'd a man like that get stuck babysittin' though? Isn't that a lil above his paygrade?"

"Well, we were there on business and I was too young to be involved. He was a friend of the family. Half the drug world owes Isabella a favour, him included." Benny lit himself another cigarette, turning his head to look back at Delia through the rearview mirror. "That's why he was put in charge of the Juaréz Cartel. Someone she figured she could control. But, y'see, when you're put in charge of a business that was founded on distribution, where moving product from point A to B over the border is your bread and butter, a competing source like Rhy'din fucks the whole thing up. He's losing money fast. Blood and fuckin' feathers everywhere. He's got cops and politicians to pay off, men to pay, supply to purchase. Then there's the upkeep costs for tunnels and runways, contingency funds for when things go wrong, not to mention the Mexican army and the DEA breathing down his neck, and the beat goes on..." he exhaled a puff of smoke that was snatched by the wind of the open topped car. "... And all the while, his suppliers in Bolivia and Peru are realising they can cut out the middleman, move their supplies through Rhy'din's portals with no fuss. Makes a man desperate. Makes his underlings nervous. Tension and doubt start building. And that sort of thing is what drives a man to come up with a quick solution... and in Falcón's case, that meant going after us, directly. Bombing our distribution hubs. Killing our street dealers. Trying to chip away at our business until the bosses in Colombia don't think we're worth the trouble."

That was way more than she bargained for.

"So it's deep-deep." Delia hummed a little sound, contemplative. She hadn't studied enough of this to understand the full depth of the implications but at the end of it, it's what it would take to help Alik. Or so she told herself. Maybe she was just using that as a reason to justify her involvement when really it had less to do with Alik and everything to do with Dunham. "S'interestin', story time an' all. But I s'pose we're gettin' close, aye? Any last minute words o' wisdom?"

"Yeah. Deep-deep. Just letting you know what you're getting into." Benny glanced back at her through the rearview again. "You'll do fine. Don't worry." A man of few words, but... he tried to make every word mean a little more.

"We are... fifteen minutes away from El Paso." Benny said, glancing at the GPS screen that was hung up on the dash. "... Bottom line? Head down, eyes open, weapon ready, and do whatever the fuck Tella tells you. And if there's trouble, hide behind me." he said with a joking grin that said he knew damn well Delia was not hiding for shit.

"Good luck. By the way." Benny said, quietly, as the desert started to turn suburbs. "... If it goes ok, we can dosome touristing."

Tella chanced a broad smile back at Delia then. At some touristing, if it went okay. But it was windy, so all she heard was, “We can do touristing.”

She clarified her takeaway out loud with a look in the rearview mirror. “Did you hear that? We’re doing touristing!” No conditions. It was happening.

"We... ugh..."

---------

The crossing had gone off without a hitch. Just like Dunham said, the guards let them straight through, after slipping Benny an address on a slip of paper. A warehouse in the industrial part of town. They were headed that way now, cruising through the streets of Juaréz, Rodolfo Aicardi on the radio, the sun beaming down on their faces in Tella's new car. Benny's demeanor had changed the second they crossed. Shades on, eyes on the streets left and right like a sentry.

As they came to an intersection to stop at a light, Benny turned to mutter at Tella. "Worked out a plan yet? Aside from meeting Dunham's man, we're on our own..." She was the smart one.

Tella's demeanor had changed in subtle ways as they crossed the border. Her single summer blue eye was steady with thought. She looked from Delia to Benny to the street, breathed in smoke, and blew it out in a slow stream like a waiting dragon.

"Fuck Dunham's man. Falcón's enemies will use the meetup to follow us to him. They have to know we're coming, and they're planning a trap. Time is a flat circle, history repeats itself, and everything you've told me establishes a clear pattern of tactics for these kinds of alliances. Take us to the cantina you trust the most, take us out the back, then lead us straight to him. The hit squad that's out there right now will be playing catch-up, and this way we'll be more ready than they are. We'll save Falcón from the trap he doesn't know is coming. That's how we close this deal."

Benny did an actual double-take. He stared Tella down for a few moments, giving a nervous inhale, then spun the lowrider around in a U-turn. "Jesus... Fuck... Everything about this screams bad idea... and... save him? Why would he be in danger?"

There was a pause. "... Unless... you think his men are gunning for him..." he glanced over, like a schoolchild waiting for approval from the teacher. Gold star, Benny. Correct.

"You think they've already given up on him... and this is the perfect time to take us both out..." he slammed his fist on the steering wheel. "Fuck. Dunham's led us into the slaughterhouse and he didn't even know it..."

Tella glanced at Delia at the mention of Dunham, then back. "It's what I would do." Whether she meant Dunham, or Falcón's underlings conspiring with his enemies, she didn't clarify.

She had brought a lot of luggage, packed with things that could easily paint a picture of someone frivolous. She grabbed bags with Delia's help (especially needed with how Benny needed to whip the car around), removing a revolver's cylinder from a hair dryer, the barrel from the handle of a parasol, the stock from inside the wedge heel of a sandal, and a dozen rounds from among her vitamins, cracking the large gel capsules and dumping out the homeopathic herbs.

As they pulled up to the cantina, she offered a bright smile to Benny and Delia both as she slapped the cylinder into place and spun it. "Come on. How often do you get to do this? It will be fun. Just think of the stories we'll tell!"