Chapter Text
It had been a while since I had last felt so alone.
Desperately alone.
We had plans for everything. Everything but this.
Police vans, uniforms, tents, cuffs. They were the very things I had breathed, lived and dreamt about for the best part of 20 years, and yet this was all so very different from anything I had ever known.
The black balaclava was both a blessing and a curse. It disguised my fears whilst also suffocated me. With each step I took, I could feel my heart beat a little faster. If I was struggling to breathe properly before, it only made things harder. Yet, I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing me break.
The crowd outside had helped. We weren’t alone in this. We had the people’s support. Their chanting was loud. More people realising that they had had enough. It wasn’t all just black and white. Good and bad. The world consisted of a duality of both, and those who claimed differently were probably the most disreputable of all.
I wanted to take it all in. To join them. To let them know who I was.
I was so close. And yet, I couldn’t be further away.
To the people that mattered, I was dead.
To the rest of the world, I was still out there.
A fugitive, in the eyes of the law.
For now, that tent was a place of safety.
Yet, we were the dirt on the soles of their shoes. The kind that fermented and left a lingering smell that was difficult to get rid of and they were ready to do anything as long as they were able to mask the smell and come out smelling of roses.
Rio was an example of what they were ready to do.
“Sir, get out of here,” Suárez had ordered. Those words, their meaning, their intentions had hit me like a baseball bat to the gut.
Gloved hands over my mouth. Gagged. Defenceless. Bang. The noise vibrated in my head. The bullet bouncing as it hit the ground killed my hopes. Bang. The second bullet served my sentence. Signing my life into their hands.
My ears were still ringing. But I shook my head. I focused on the people around me. Their cheers. Their anger. I couldn’t think of what had transpired in that barn. Not now.
For now, I was somewhat safe.
The tent offered an element of familiarity, and yet, this was completely different to before. As I walked towards it, I knew that my past and present were about to come face to face.
Over the course of my life, I had often stopped to question who I really was. I had often looked at myself in the mirror and barely recognised the person looking back at me. My face was a reminder of the past. Despite the newly developed bags under my eyes, the few lines around my eyes and lips, I still looked practically the same as I did when I first joined the Force. But there were often times when I was no longer sure that the person looking back at me was me. That face reminded me of how much things had changed. Over time, the person in the mirror had grown to represent my beliefs and dreams. But when life took a tumble, those beliefs and dreams were shattered. Without them, I was no longer sure as to who I was. Each time life pulled the rug from under my feet, I struggled to link the person in my head with the person staring back at me. It felt like I was looking at a different person, a person that belonged to the past.
A year and a half waking up to the warm sea breeze, to the sound of the crashing waves, to soft kisses on my neck and cheeks had helped. Being able to breathe in fresh air away from toxicity had left its impact and I had slowly seen its effect taking over me. As I had sat on a hammock watching the waves eating away the shoreline, the knots in my muscles had eroded away with the soft sedimentary rocks I was looking at. Back in Palawan, the person looking back at me had a bigger smile than I had seen in a while. My shoulders were no longer as stiff as before. My muscles weren’t as tense. I started seeing more of my mother in me. I was more eager to try new things, to go on adventures, to let my hair loose. Ironically, with a warrant out for my arrest, I was laughing more and worrying less than before.
The strips of the plastic curtain fell behind me. The crowd’s energy and their chanting faded away. A cloud of eerie silence descended upon me. The previous buzz was replaced with the low humming of computers.
With each step, more people turned to look. I could feel their piercing looks on my face. They had all stopped what they were doing.
I removed the helmet.
I had all their attention. So many familiar faces. People I had grown older with, people who I had laughed with, attended wedding ceremonies of. People who had previously ignored me or my authority were now standing up. The very same people who had sided with Alberto, who had made sure I knew what they thought of me after the first heist. Even those who had been brought from other teams, the best of other districts, had stood up. What did they think I was about to do?
I stood up straighter and removed the balaclava.
I knew about their affairs and misdemeanours. I knew that very few of them could hold their hands up and honestly claim they had never stepped out of line. They were the same looks I’d been given when I first opened a case against Alberto, when I’d first been branded a ‘traitor’. The same looks of disgust. Only now, it was more overt. Now, it was better to show it than to hide it.
However, out of all those faces. One stood out.
All the other faces became a blur. I focused on her and her alone.
That orange fringe. Her high ponytail. I would have recognised her from a mile away, and now she was even more difficult to miss.
Alicia. The ice queen, as we used to call her. Pregnant. Now that was one for the books.
I wondered then if her mind was going down memory lane as it had done the first time we talked on the phone.
I tried to stop myself. Over the years, I had learnt how to put on a stoic expression, how to appear braver than I felt, how to hide my fears or anger. When I couldn’t speak, when it was wiser not to, I learnt that that was the biggest weapon I had.
Despite the front I put up, I was never a fighter or one who favoured confrontations. I had quickly come to realise that there was no winning when it came to sexist comments. I tried to give it back as hard as I got, but I also knew that sometimes that was exactly what they wanted. In the early days, there had been bets on who riled me up the most, so I learnt not to fall for their tricks. I learnt when it was best to walk away. I learnt to choose which battles to fight.
When Alberto was shouting in my ears, holding his fist inches away from my face, it was the one thing I had. There were times when I’d end up getting new bruises for it, but I used to try hard not to give him the satisfaction of seeing the real damage he was causing.
As much as I learnt how to block pain and hide my emotions, some of my strength had also been eaten away.
That stoic look was only a mask for all that was bubbling beneath the surface. The self-doubt, the fear, the panic attacks. There were times when my emotions crept in and threatened to give the game away.
I was stronger now. In the last three years I had worked on building myself up again, and I was not about to let them break my spirit, just yet.
As I looked Alicia in the eyes, I felt that fire burning.
The thrill for a fight. The competitive spirit. Passion and rivalry.
It had been ages since I had last seen her, and yet she looked the same as I remembered.
Just the same as 23-year-old Alicia Sierra, ready to give everyone a piece of her mouth. She would sit quietly in the corner observing everyone. She knew exactly what she wanted and always got it. She was fiery and independent. She had all the boys eating from her hands. Her wittiness often got her in trouble, but she always knew what to do to get away with it. She had a way with her words. She was a performer. Younger boys idolised her, those our age despised her; yet, few dared cross her. She was loyal and honest.
She was my friend and rival.
She had been there for me before. Yet, time had passed.
According to her, I was on the wrong side of justice.
She could be callous and unpredictable, and at that moment, as I stared in her eyes, I didn’t know where that placed me.
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