I peeked through the small opening of the window of the carriage to spectate a view of huge houses as our horses galloped along the dusty road to San Diego, hometown to the late philanthropist Don Rafael Ibarra. It has been a while since I last set foot in this place, and strangely enough, I found it to be much better than it's former state. A sudden and rather unsettling chill of nostalgia surged throughout my body as we drew closer to the town, chorused by an uncontrollable urge to light myself a cigarette. I tried reaching for a stick from my coat pocket, but a voice coming from my front suddenly interrupted me with a warning.

"Could you not restrain yourself just a little while longer?" he warned me. "We're going to meet with the council members of the ayuntamiento, Isagani. We wouldn't want to smell of smoke upon our arrival."

"Come on, Basilio. Just a stick. I'm itching for a smoke." I replied with an annoyed tone.

"Don't tell me you're already getting cold feet, Isagani? Deep breaths will help, my friend." he suggested. "Besides, smoking is bad for you, you know."

"Hoho! Really? You're the one to talk." I sneered as I returned the cigarette inside my coat.

"Well, I am a doctor, Isagani. Doctors are supposed to look out for your health." he retorted with a smile.

"Why, thank you good sir. I wouldn't know what to do without you." I replied in a mocking tone.

For a moment, the coach fell silent as Basilio turned to the window sill, with his eyes fixed at the horizon outside of the carriage. Only the sound of galloping horses and rolling wheels can be heard as I observed my partner ponder on something.

"Time flies so fast, ain't it?" he abruptly asked. "Can't believe it's been a decade."

"So it seems." I thriftly replied.

"I wonder if Paulita's in town." Basilio said in a rather mischievous tone.

"Don't even think about it, Basilio." I answered hostilely. "Even if she is, so what? We haven't got time for such trivial matters.

"Trivial?! Barely!" he declared with a loud voice. "I'll have you reminded that Paulita is a Pelaez now, and the Pelaezes have a huge influence in San Diego - much greater now that they have the resources of the Orendas and Espadañas!"

"What does it matter? We're well-off without their help. Besides, you said it yourself: no funny business with Paulita this time. And you know very well that Juanito and I are not on the best of terms." I complained.

"We need their help. It just occurred to me that the town of San Diego has strategic value and they have great influence over it. We cannot build the school without their help. We could use a man like Don Timoteo Pelaez to our advantage. He is, after all, allied with the diocesan corporations." Basilio answered in a challenging tone.

"Are you deaf?! Juanito and I go way back. Trying to gain their support would be utterly impossible!" I angrily reasoned with him.

"They have no quarrel with me. I can talk them over to our favor." he rebutted.

"Oh, yes. Of course. An associate of mine will definitely be welcomed with open arms."

"And why not? Associate or not, would the Pelaezes say no to a client, especially one with huge purchases? We require a long-term supply of galvanized iron to construct our schools. They need customers. A partnership with them will help solidify our position here in San Diego." he parried with a smile.

"Well, you do realize that the Pelaezes are just resellers of the goods and we can just go directly to the suppliers themselves, yes? " I argued.

"It's not about the expenses, Isagani. Look at it this way. Favors are earned with goodwill. And in this country, money is the only goodwill these spineless bastards know and recognize."

"Are you suggesting that you're making the partnership to serve as an excuse to get close to the Pelaezes? Don't we have any other...practical options? I mean, come on, we can take over this town by ourselves. Besides, they might get suspicious. " I countered.

"No. We can't do that. The Pelaezes have a strong hold over the people of San Diego. We can't take them head-on right now. We need to weaken them first. You don't need to worry about them prying in our affairs. So long it's a matter of money, the Don won't mind. He keeps his faithful clients within his circle. If I'm lucky enough to be one of the Don's "friends", there's a chance that we'll need not worry about requisitioning lands within the town for our future projects. You, on the other hand, will have your part to play with Paulita." Basilio answered sternly. "There are only two people in this world with whom Don Timoteo would most likely confide in: his only son and his daughter-in-law. And according to what I've heard, Juanito Pelaez's health is failing him. So, when the time comes, I want you to get to her to make sure our hold of the town would be secure. And who knows, we might even get something extra out of it. The way I see it, she sees you as somewhat of a good friend - if not a dear sweetheart. There is a reason why she volunteered to meet you back at the hotel. I don't know what, but my gut tells me that she still has some feelings for you. I know I'm asking too much, considering what happened between the two of you years ago. But we all have our battles to fight, don't we? This is your battle."

"Can't I have a say on what battles I must fight? I don't want to have to deal with Paulita again. You don't know what sort of woman she is." I answered, letting out a sigh.

"I know." Basilio replied with a smile. "But right now, Paulita has her uses to us, and only you can get close to her."

At this, I rubbed my chin in contemplation. To be fair, there is merit to Basilio's argument. Though a bit lavish and seemingly impractical, a business partnership with the Pelaezes is not a bad idea, considering the benefits that we'll enjoy once they become our friends. And Paulita...though we didn't part on the best of terms, may...still have some feelings for me after all this time. I took note of that on our meeting and perhaps Basilio might have picked up on it too. But I still have my reservations...

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"But...what if they get in the way? You know, pry into our affairs? Sooner or later they'll poke their noses into our business and it's not like we can simply dispose of them." I asked.

"Like I told you, you don't need to worry because they won't." Basilio promptly answered. "So long as there's money coming in, they won't bother us. Besides, they won't have any reason to anyway! We are venerable entrepreneurs in the eyes of the public. What is there to sleuth for?"

I let out a sigh. "I guess you're right. I might just be overthinking."

"Don't think too much about it. Everything will go smoothly, just like we planned. Just do what you have to do and let me handle the rest, hm?" Basilio assured me, giving me a pat on the shoulder.

Seconds later, Basilio, who was seated on the side of the car near the driver, knocked a few times on the roof and called out to him.

"Peralta! Are we there yet?" he shouted.

Peralta, the new cochero who had a rather deep voice, said in response, "We're almost there, señor! We're approaching the town as we speak."

"Muy bien! Full speed ahead." Basilio replied as he turned to me. "About fucking time. I've been sitting here for an hour."

Minutes passed, and the carriage slowly came to a halt. Outside, I can hear numerous footsteps and Spanish chatter closing in on our location.

"What's the hold-up, Peralta?" I asked the cochero.

"It's the guardia civil, señor. They're inquiring about our business here in San Diego." replied the coachman.

"Tell them we have an appointment with the Pelaezes." I replied. "Goddamn soldiers always getting in the way with everything."

At this reply, although hardly audible, conversations began to ensue outside the car. Peralta, who is a man of rustic appearance, surprised me as he conversed with one of the soldiers in Spanish with utmost proficiency and fluency that, if one had no knowledge of his origins and ancestry, would have mistaken him for a Spanish mestizo, or perhaps even a Spanish pure-blood.

Moments later, a knock from the outside sounded in the car.

"Sir, they need papers. Invitations, as our noble friends put it." Peralta called out.

"Tell them we have them. I'll be coming out in a second." Basilio answered as he reached for the inside pocket of his coat. "Ahh, finally. My ass can finally be free from this pain." he exhaled in his relief as he opened the door and stepped out into the open.

By the time my partner got out, I held the carriage door open for the purpose of letting the fresh morning air into the car as I lit myself a cigarette. At a distance, I can see Basilio dealing with the soldiers with Peralta, who seemed very confident with the words they utter. We were hold up for a few more minutes as the soldier standing near the check point asked a few more questions, until finally, the guards dragged the obstruction from the path, allowing us to pass.

At this, Basilio returned to the car. And with a sneer and a smug smile, he told me, "We're clear. Those fuckers didn't seem too convinced at first. Who do they take us for, for fuck's sake?!"

"What's with the barricade, anyway?" I asked.

"Tulisanes. Recently, there was an attack in the town of Tiani by a band led by a certain former cabeza. They say they almost got the leader. Goddamnit." Basilio answered with a raised tone.

"You don't seem too happy about it." I remarked.

"Of course I'm not! The leader of the bandits is my father-in-law!" he angrily hissed.

I was taken by surprise upon hearing this.

"What's the matter?" he commented, noting my facial gesture.

"Oh. I-it's nothing. So, uhh...who is your father-in-law again?" I asked as I exhaled smoke high up in the air.

"Have I not mentioned this to you before?" Basilio asked.

"I believe so." I affirmed.

"I see. His name is Telesforo, and according to what I've heard so far, he's well-known now around these parts by the name Matanglawin (Falcon-eye). Their gang has grown notorious since we fled from this country." he replied.

"Matanglawin? I believe I've heard that name before..." I remarked.

"Yes, you have. That's the nickname of an infamous outlaw from the days of old. Now, get inside the coach so we can move along. And throw that damn cigarette away! I just forbade you to smoke earlier and you did the exact fucking opposite!" he roared impatiently as he was shooing me to enter the car. By the time he found himself seated, he knocked on the car roof. "We're all set. Peralta, vamonos!"

At this, a loud crack from the whip and the galloping of horses sounded as the vehicle moved forward.

"By the way you described Julianna to me during our academy days, I never really expected her to have a father who is...not exactly in accord with the law. Basilio, if you don't mind me asking, how did...how did your father-in-law become an outlaw?" I asked in a careful tone.

With this question, he replied with a dry smile and said, "Why do you want to know?"

"Well, I am your friend, or rather, your only true friend around, so I believe I deserve your explanation for this." I reasoned in a confident tone.

"Touché." Basilio replied with a short laugh.

"So?" I urged him as I rested my chin upon my fist.

"Okay." he began as he took a deep breath. "Well, to put it simply, he was once a law-abiding citizen - like any typical citizen of the Philippines. A man of honor, a loving and hardworking father who toiled tireless day and night on his fields which, by law, is rightfully his. Unfortunately, he had some run-ins with curates. The religious corporations seized his property and he fought for it in court. It was a long and arduous battle, and as it slowly became apparent that he was bound to lose, he gradually realized that the rule of law in this country was not meant to serve its citizens, and thus..."

"...he became a tulisan." I replied.

"Exactly." Basilio agreed.

"No wonder." I continued.

"Yeah." Basilio sighed. "No wonder."

"Hmm. He's notorious bandit, you say? We could sure use people such as himself to help us in the future." I suggested.

"Sure...if we can find him before the government does." Basilio answered curtly.

"Come on, Basilio. Don't be a pessimist. I have the skills to track him down and you have the skills to persuade almost anyone, plus you have the advantage of being his son-in-law. You can talk him and his men to our side. Besides, both him and us have a common enemy."

"No need for you to track him down." Basilio replied. "I have the means to get in contact with him. It's just..."

"What?" I urged him.

"Juli..." Basilio continued. "...I promised I would protect Juli no matter what...and I failed him."

"You were in jail back then, Basilio. There's nothing you could have done." I responded. "Talk to him. I'm sure he would have understood your current circumstances."

"It's no use." Basilio parried. "He probably wouldn't see it that way."

"We can at least try." I countered. "Their gang is most likely in need of resources. We HAVE those resources. We still have something to bargain with, don't you agree?"

Basilio replied with a snicker. "I wish I had your optimism."

"So...are you in this or not?" I asked, trying to give him an ultimatum. "We need to hire a lot of muscle, remember?"

He thought long and hard, rubbing his chin as he tried to weigh his options.

"...'Tang-ina. Bahala na! Fuck it. Let's do it, Isagani." Basilio finally agreed.

"Excellent. I knew you would come to your senses." I commended him. "If we can get his gang to join our side, we may not need to be very subtle in taking over San Diego."

"The good old shock and awe, eh?" Basilio replied. "Why do you always have to be so...vigorous in everything you do?"

I answered with a chuckle. "What better man is there to bring to life your subtle machinations?"

"We're here, señores!" announced Peralta as the carruaje came to a halt. "Watch your step."

"All right. We're here, Isagani." Basilio exclaimed. "Break a leg."