Catalina's head dropped. Would this ever end? She watched her own chest rise and fall, rise and fall. It could very well be the only Rey chest with air left in it. Her hopes for finding Mateo alive were dwindling down to nothing.

Slowly, she lifted her head again, angling it so that her neck cracked with a noisy pop. The sharp pain followed by the warm rush of relief helped clear her mind somewhat. She turned then to look at Oriana, then back at Manuel.

"Gracias. Todo lo que necesito es el paradero del Oso de Salamanca. Tiene a Mateo. Marco está muerto," she said, then immediately turned back to Oriana so that she could avoid any looks of pity on Manuel's face. Opting for English, she spoke to her Right.

"Weapons, explosives, manpower? What is needed for... extraction? Once my brother is retrieved, The Bear will be put down like the rabid dog that he is," she said quietly. Dropping a bomb on The Bear's home and destroying everything within a ten-mile radius, and making what happened back at her own home look like child's play, would be much more satisfying, but she had to believe her brother was out there, and that she'd find him.

Oriana frowned. "Depends on the layout, I guess. We'll find out where his base is, then be able to plan then. But weapons, explosives, and manpower sounds like a good starting point."

"Ah, yes," continued Manuel in English, following Catalina's lead. "I tell you about the Bear, and you will remove him. He is not a friend. But you will keep my name out of it?"

Catalina and Oriana nodded in synchronization as Manuel seemed to reflect on something. After a moment, he spoke.

"And... I ask one more favor. I sent Oriana to you. You remember, Oriana, when you came to me? Alone? Hunted? Looking for work? And I told you that you reminded me of another beautiful friend of mine and I sent you to Catalina? Well, she has been wonderful for you, Catalina, has she not? I was happy to do this favor for you, and I will be happy to help you avenge your family- all good people, very good people- but I ask for one other favor in return."

He leaned forward on the desk, resting his large chin on his laced fingers.

"This country is about to hit the shits. Civil War, they say. The Church and the Communists and the Fascists and the Republic and the Army and every other fucking jodido grupo que tiene una opinión- sorry- is picking up weapons to kill each other with. Give me two days to liquidate my assets, then take me back to America with you. I hear you own Manhattan, and I have heard it is very nice. In return, I give you everything I know about the Salamancan Bear. We have a deal, yes?"

"Yes," Catalina said quickly, but barely above a whisper. Her mind was like a broken Vegas slot machine, the reels spinning but never landing. Manuel rattled off the details, and she watched as Oriana nodded a few times, but barely absorbed any of the details herself. When he was done speaking, they were led to a small utility closet behind the kitchen. Instead of mops and industrial cleaners, it held a small weapons cache that would have made any dictator proud. Catalina and Oriana picked through the items like two old ladies examining fruit at the market, holding one up for he other's inspection, pushing another aside, humming approval at yet another. When they were finished, Manuel offered them the services of two of his best men, who carried the items to the car for them.

"Gracias por esto. Mis padres, ellos... por favor asegúrese de que los cuerpos son... solamente..." Her eyes began to water, and she cleared her throat. ""Volveremos pronto," she promised, then hugged him briefly and strode away, Oriana close on her heels.

In the car, not much was said. What was there to say? Oriana gave the occasional driving directions to the man behind the wheel, one who looked much like Marco Rey. Catalina directed her attention out the window instead, watching the despondent, depressive scenery pass by. When had things gone so wrong, here? She'd obviously been out of touch with everything outside the family home on her ever-decreasing visits. Her parents had been a-political, beyond what they had had to know or deal with in the cocaine business. Now that there was nothing left of her family, though, Madrid seemed unimportant, its problems trivial. This wasn't her home, anymore.

"Deténgase aquí," Oriana snapped at the driver, who did as told. She climbed out of the backseat, and Catalina followed her to what looked to be the opening to a driveway or side road. Someone had attempted to obscure it by dragging underbrush across, and had done a fine job of it, except for the telltale drag marks in the dirt below.

"Alright. We are on foot from here?" Catalina asked. Oriana was the expert, and she was going to follow her lead.

Oriana nodded.

"This is the place Manuel told us about, and I doubt he'd lie to us. Seems like he wants to get out of here..."

She glanced around, hearing gunfire in the distance. Had the riots taken a turn? She checked her weapons. After walking with Cat for a minute, they peeked around the corner to find the target building. Noting it, Ori sighed.

"Look... I'm sorry about all this, Cat. Sorry about your family. Sorry that this sucks. But you've got a chance for revenge. It's something. We'll take a quick look around- then we'll hit the building. Manuel said that there'd be some guys on the first floor, some on the second, but most in the basement. If Mateo is here anywhere, he'd probably be in the basement with the boss. As a plan... well, I think I can take down that one sentry silently. After that, I'll climb up to the second floor. When you see me get close to the window, you hit the guys on the first floor; I'll handle the second floor. And..." she shrugged, "you might as well use those two grenades you got from Manuel. We're not going to be throwing them don't the basement stairs without knowing who's in there."

Oriana nodded at Cat.

"Ready?"

Catalina stared at the building, trying to get a read on it, a feel for Mateo. Nothing.

"Yes," she said, her lips barely moving. Oriana nodded and slipped away through the tall grass, reminding Catalina of a big cat stalking prey in the wild. In a flash, she'd disposed of the sentry, and Catalina could see, even from this distance, the spray of arterial blood arcing through the air. Without missing a beat, Oriana began to scale the outside of the building, and as she neared a window, Catalina ran in a crouch to one on the first floor. 

The window Oriana had climbed to was open; Cat's was not. At least one of them would have the element of surprise. When she looked up next, Oriana gave her a thumbs up, then swung herself inside. Cat sighed, angled her elbow across her face, then brought it back against the glass, effectively breaking it. She could hear even from here the ruckus that was going on upstairs, and when a form passed in front of her window, she didn't hesitate to shoot it. She waited a few moments, expecting a rain of bullets to be fired out of the window at her, but there was nothing but the sounds of heavy objects hitting floors, walls, and possibly furniture one floor up. 

No, one of those sounds was the pounding of footsteps, coming down the stairs now. One had escaped Oriana. 

Heaving herself through the window, Catalina let herself fall to the floor and stayed there, firing two shots at the pair of legs coming down the stairs. One hit a knee, and when the man owning it staggered, she fired another round into his head. 

Silence. 

Much daintier footsteps on the stairs now as Oriana descended.

"Not even a hair out of place. You're ridiculous," Catalina smiled at her friend. The smile was true, but it felt foreign, a betrayal. 

"If he's in the basement, and someone is with him, would they not have come up the stairs by now?" She asked in a whisper. The answer seemed a little too obvious... if Mateo was down there, and if he wasn't alone, he only had one with him. That someone had enough self-preservation to stay put until there was no other choice in the matter.

 "Oso?" She mouthed.

Knifing the sentry was easy; the guy was drunk, high... something. Whatever, he was dead now. Oriana climbed the building adeptly, using the uneven stone walls to find hand and footholds. She slipped inside as Cat reached the building. The men upstairs saw her coming, but it didn't matter. She kicked one guy over in his chair and stabbed him, then shot two more as they scrambled for their weapons, although a third one got away downstairs. Based on the gunshots, Cat handled him.

"Not even a hair out of place. You're ridiculous," said Cat. 

"What can I say? You inspire me."

"If he's in the basement, and someone is with him, would they not have come up the stairs by now?" Cat whispered. "Oso?"

"That'd be my guess. Whoever it is, they're either holed up there in a defensive position. Or maybe they have a hostage. How do you want to play it? We could walk down, try to talk to whoever's there. Charge down and start shooting. Or just chuck a grenade down there and hope they don't have a hostage. Up to you."

Catalina's mouth worked, but no sound came out. How do you make a decision like this, when your only remaining blood relative's life hung in the balance? 

You trusted the expert, that's how.

"Fuck it, Oriana. Any and all of the above? If no one responds to reasoning, we go in guns blazing and hope my brother isn't down there, positioned like a meat shield. And if he isn't? Throw the fucking grenades. This city, this country is not my home anymore. I want out of it as quickly as possible," she said, breezing past Oriana and taking up a position outside the basement door. There was no sound from below, but Catalina couldn't trust her hearing after all of the recent gunplay. 

Again, you had to trust the expert. She looked at Oriana and gave a firm nod. 'Whatever you do, I follow' , it said. 

Oriana shrugged. Any and all of the above. Fair enough. With Cat on one side of the doorway, Ori leaned down from the other side and shouted.

"Queremos hablar!"

They were answered by a hail of gunfire that sent them both ducking back to cover. 

"That seems like a no," said Ori to Cat. Then she shouted downstairs again. "¡Suelta tu arma y sube las escaleras, o lanzaremos una granada!"

There was a pause from downstairs, then a voice called up "¡No tienes una granada!"

Ori glanced at Cat. "Uhhh... take one of the grenades and throw it upstairs." Then she shouted back down. "¡Escucha esto, gilipollas!"

Cat took one of the grenades and, aiming very carefully, pulled the pin and threw it upstairs. Then she ran for cover, just to be safe. Oriana had ducked down in a small kitchen area.

When the grenade blew, the house seemed to shake, but the damage was limited to the second story. Ori and Cat resumed their places at either side of the basement door. "Are you ready?" mouthed Oriana. Cat nodded.

"¿Quieres otro ahí abajo?!" yelled Ori.

"¡No hagas! No lo hagas ¡Tenemos un rehén!"

"WHO?" shouted Cat.

"Mateo Rey!"

"Alright, we're going," mouthed Ori. "¡Cómete estas cuatro granadas, idiotas!" Then she threw three limes into the basement and sprinted down after them. Cat followed on her heels. There were a few men downstairs, all scrambling for cover from the "grenades". Oriana shot a couple of them, wincing from the pain in her ears of the gunshots in the stone basement. Cat shot at least one- a big guy. Oso? The big guy was standing next to a man in a chair with a big over his head. Oriana kept her gun out- just in case.

A quick visual sweep proved the basement now empty of living men, save for the one sitting in the chair. Catalina knew it was Mateo before she even pulled the hood off of him and began working at the ropes that bound him.

 "¿Estás bien? ¿Te hicieron daño?"

 "No, no, por supuesto que no. Soy yo... Yo era demasiado valioso para ellos. Iban a llevarme a Columbia, a hacerme socio. ¡Hasta que arruinaste eso para mí!"

 The slap was hard and crisp in the still air. Mateo reeled back from it, but didn't dare counter with one of his own.

 "¡Mataron a nuestra familia! ¡Todos ellos, Matthew! ¡Tú y yo somos los únicos miembros que quedan!" Catalina yelled, then turned on her heel and stomped up the stairs before she hurt him again. He followed her up, stunned and disbelieving.

 "¡Esto no es posible! ¡Me lo prometieron! Dijeron que podían sacarme del país más rápido si parecía un secuestro, y..."

 "¡Claro! Todo el país está en agitación, ¿qué es más fácil que un rehén dispuesto? Eres un idiota, hermano. El último hombre de la familia es un tonto. Ruego que nunca te cries."

 Oriana had followed Mateo up the stairs and had listened to the exchange quietly while leaning against a wall. A small noise from her indicated that they needed to get moving; the window for leaving Madrid was closing in on them.

 "Me voy a Nueva York. Te sugiero que te unas a nosotros o te vayas a otro lado. Te daré algo de dinero, pero eso es todo lo que hago por ti,"  she said, then left through the door to begin the trek back to the car. 

Whether he followed or not, she honestly didn't much care.