The man approached the armed compound in slow, measured steps filled with confidence. The fine suit and dress shoes he wore stood out starkly from the lush foliage that lined the dirt track on which he trod. The ink black jacket hung open over the blood red button down shirt with an open collar. His entire appearance was immaculate. Professional.
And sinister, thanks to the mask he wore.
The color of dried blood, black paint outlined the holes for the eyes, casting shadows on the piercing blue orbs beneath. The mouth was little more than a line carved across the mask, and a pair of black horns poked up just few inches from the top. He knew it was a little over the top, but sometimes the theatrics were useful for misdirecting people.
And, after spending a few days doing recon on this group, he figured it would work to catch the attention of the man in charge.
The confusion from the pair guarding the gate was obvious, as they just watched his casual approach for several seconds. It wasn't until he was ten feet from them that they finally reacted, raising the rifles they both carried to point at him.
“Who the hell are you!?”
He knew they were speaking Spanish; it only made sense, considering everyone in this particular South American country did... He also knew that he had never learned Spanish, yet he understood them perfectly. It had thrown him off the first time he realized the fact, but now he simply accepted it.
Magic could do all sorts of strange and incredible things.
Despite the guns pointed at him, he stood impassively as he scanned the compound. There wasn't much to it, really- as long as you didn't count the fields stretching out behind it and to the sides. Just four buildings made up the entire compound: a pair of what looked like bunkhouses, an exceptionally large barn, and a rather elegant two story villa. There were even people applying a fresh coat of paint to the villa!
Aside from the chain-link fence that surrounded the compound, the only security he could see were a few strategically placed cameras- and the dozen or so armed guards that were now staring in his direction with guns in hand.
“Hey! I asked you a question!”
The man turned his attention back to the two guards nearby. While most of their focus was on him, the pair were still cautiously scanning the road and trees behind him. The fact that an unarmed man approached them alone must have set off warning bells in their mind.
Cocking his head to the side in curiosity, the man finally spoke. “Names are such an interesting thing, don't you think? Some believe that every name possesses a meaning of its own, and that this, in a way, defines who you are as a person. I suppose there is a bit of truth to that, though not in the way most people think.”
“You see, the name itself doesn't define you. But the way other people perceive and use the name certainly has an impact. In a way, it can affect who you are as a person. But ultimately it is you who defines the name. 'A rose by any other name would smell as sweet' is a favorite quote of mine.”
The guards shared a confused glance. “What the hell are you talking about? I asked who you are!”
The man sighed dramatically. “I quote Shakespeare and this is the response? Does no one read the classics anymore?” With a sad shake of his head, he waved it off. “No matter. My name is irrelevant, as any name I give would likely not be true.”
“What does matter is another name: The Duke. I know that is not his real name, but it is quite an inspired one. Did he choose it himself? Or did he merely accept it when others started to call him that?”
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
He paused in thought for a moment before waving it off. “I suppose that doesn't matter either. Anyway, I'm here to speak with him. Do you mind asking him if I can take just a bit of his time? It would be better to conclude our business before delving into the Philosophy of names. Or any discussion on philosophy, really. Those can drag on for days if you aren't careful!”
“I don't know what you're talking about, man, but you're in the wrong place. So why don't you tell us who you are and what you're doing here before we have a problem. I don't think you will like how we solve problems here.”
With a shrug, the man pointed at the balcony of the villa. “Your boss, The Duke, is in his office right there. Probably watching us right now, I would think. And, as I said just a moment ago, I'm here to talk to him.”
At his response, the tension began to grow and the guards clutched their weapons a little tighter. But before anything more could happen, a man exited the villa and quickly approached the duo at the gate. After a short, whispered conversation the guards nodded their understanding.
“All right, but we're gonna search you first. And I swear, if you try anything funny-”
“Yes, yes. I know.” The man again sighed theatrically. “Something along the lines of a threat involving bodily harm. Or a bullet, I'm sure.”
When the guard searching him reached up to remove the mask, the man reacted, suddenly seizing the guard's wrist and pulling him close. Positioning the surprised guard between himself and the very startled, and armed, men, he shook his head sternly as he tsked. “There's no need for that. I don't go around yanking off your mask, now do I?”
“Motherfucker! What the fuck do you think you're doing? I ain't wearing no damn mask!”
He chuckled darkly before slowly pushing the guard back. “Everyone wears masks, my friend. Every day, they put on a mask and leave their homes. A mask of happiness to mask their depression, the mask of a confident CEO to hide their feelings of loss and confusion... People present what they want others to see.”
“And this” He said while gently tapping the demon mask on his own face, “ is what I choose to show. At least I'm more honest about the masks I wear, don't you think?”
After a tense moment, the man that had just spoken to the guards waved them both back. “It's fine. Let him keep it. Is he unarmed?”
Once the guard nodded in confirmation, he waved for them all to follow. “Good. The boss wants to speak with you. My name is-”
“Emilio Gutierrez. Ostensibly you are The Duke's housekeeper, but everyone here knows that you're his right hand.” The man smiled beneath his mask at the shocked looks on their faces. As the tension in the group ratcheted up once more, he laughed softly. “You don't think I just walked in here without being prepared, do you?”
An uncomfortable silence fell over the group before Emilio waved at a group of the guards. With a quick gesture, he pointed down the road and the group hustled out of the compound.
“Ah, making sure I'm actually alone. It would have been better if they had done that the moment I approached.” He paused and shook his head. “Actually, it would have been better if they had done that before I showed up. Have you considered implementing regular patrols of the surrounding area? It would increase security by a decent margin... And someone like me wouldn't surprise you as much.”
Emilio turned his head to glare and huffed a response. “Most people aren't so stupid as to come here.”
The man shook his head sadly even as he carefully wiped the dirt off his shoes before entering the villa. “Security through intimidation isn't sustainable. Sooner or later, someone will choose to ignore the implied threat. If you actively patrol, you can prevent more problems... Like, say, someone getting close enough to surprise you.”
“Or someone scouting out the fifty workers you have in the fields, the two dozen guards you keep on the grounds, what weapons they have access too... Where your boss sleeps... Little things like that.”
The man walked several steps before stopping as though just realizing that the guards had stopped. Turning in place, he found the guns pointed at him once more- as well as several unfriendly looks.
“Seriously? I offer some friendly advice, take the time to warn you of potential problems, and this is how you thank me? Such a shame.” His shoulders slumped, and he wiped away a pretend tear. “I'm hurt, gentlemen.”
Straightening suddenly, he turned and started up the stairs towards the office he knew the Duke would be in. “Well, we shouldn't keep your boss waiting. Do try to keep up!”
The soft swearing and hurried footsteps as the guards tried to catch up almost made him laugh. Dealing with this small branch of the Cartel wasn't his original plan, but he was starting to enjoy it.