The city of Phoenix, Arizona was a slippery mess. It has been raining nonstop since last week, which was very unusual for the big city. The rain was causing problems... interfering with certain types of packages that needed to be shipped. But more importantly, it was getting in the way of Roman Santiago finding his sister.

Outside in the cold rain, Roman stood there leaning against a tall light pole, his body drenched in water as he watched from afar the men coming in and out of the busy warehouse. The night sky was the mixture of blue and purple, the moon shining with the bright city lights. Roman craned his neck to the side, once a familiar green BMW pulled up. He took one final drag of his cigarette, before tossing it over his shoulder.

Leaning off the light pole, Roman marched his way in the warehouse's direction. The only thing on his mind was getting in there and finding out where the hell his sister had disappeared to. "Get in, recover information, leave." That was his motto, and he'd stick by it... on some occasions.

His tactical boots dug into the earth with each step he took, water splashing in every direction. In his eyes, there was nothing but determination.

"Name and purpose?" The hefty man guarding the warehouse entrance asked when Roman came into view. Roman kept quiet, his eyes trained on the door that would lead him to answers. "I said."The guard walked up to Roman's face, breathing as though he just ran a mile. "Name and purpose." He repeated, his hand itching to pull out his gun.

"Move, or you'll be moved." Roman threatened, finally looking up at the brown man. A frown planted itself on his face as he looked at the man intently. The guard glared at him, not liking Roman's threat. He reached for his gun, but it was too late. Roman's hand lifted, striking the guard in his chubby neck, damaging his windpipe. The hefty man wheezed and reached for his neck instantly. He fell onto his knees, trying to breathe. Roman took the semiautomatic pistol away from him, before looking down at the dying man. "How come you Americans eat like you've got free health care?" He asked, not waiting for a reply.

Rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck, Roman strolled into the warehouse-like he owned the place.

"Who the fuck is you?" One man on the inside asked, confused. Men hurried towards him, gathering around him in a circle. They were ready to attack at any means necessary, and so was Roman.

Roman chuckled humorlessly, watching them. A smirk tugged on his lips before he placed his index finger there. "Shh." He whispered, like the lunatic he was. "I'm death." He answered, raising the gun to the man's head. "Everyone calls me death." Roman pulled the trigger before his eyes cast down on everyone else. "Who else what's to get in my way?" Everyone raised their hands in surrender, slowly backing away. "Thought so." He mumbled. "Where's your boss?"

The few guys who hadn't pissed themselves pointed ahead of the vending machines.

Roman left without another word.

Walking into the hallway, he kept his finger on the trigger. He caught sight of a door to the left of him and slowly pushed it open.

"Have you all searched the west territory, yet?" A familiar voice asked.

Roman's eyes darkened.

"Señor, we've searched throughout there. We've even had the locals searching, there's no sign of that bitch or the baby anywhere." Said another familiar voice.

Roman's ears perked up hearing two keywords.

Bitch and baby.

"Where the hell could she be?"

"That's funny." Roman's voice echoed throughout the entire room.  He walked further inside, making his presence known. All eyes were on him now, everyone shocked to see him... alive. "I was just about to ask you that Cortez." He glared down at him. If looks could kill, Cortez would be dead.

Cortez shifted to his seat, surprised. "Roman?" He said as though he was talking to a ghost. "You're alive?"

"Of course I'm alive, Cortez." He walked to the table surrounded by men. He gazed at one guy who was seated the closest to Cortez. "Move." He ordered, and the man didn't think twice about doing so. Roman planted his ass in the seat, dropping his gun on the table with a big thud. "Even when I'm dead, I'm alive. Besides." He turned towards Cortez. "No one ever really dies in this day of age." Roman cleared his throat. "Now, back to the main topic. Where. Is. My. Sister?"

Cortez's mouth ran dry. He didn't know what to say, so his second in command quickly jumped in. "We —"

Roman lifted a finger to quiet him. "No. Not you, Basilio. You don't speak yet, only Cortez."

Cortez gulped, nervously. His veins popped out, his face turning a light shade of red. As much as he hated to admit it, he was both afraid and pissed. Pissed off that he was looking like a little bitch in front of his men and afraid because one of Mexico's greatest hitman was sitting right beside him. "She's in hiding." Cortez finally admitted.

"And why is that?"

"We got into a disagreement not too long ago and she took off with the baby. I've been looking for her ever since."

"You got her pregnant?" Roman asked, slightly taken back. He'd only been gone for two years, yet it seemed he missed a whole lifetime of events.

"Yeah. A month after our child was born, she left."

"A month, huh?" He leaned forward. "So let me get this straight. The year I left, you guys were newly wedded and a year later she's pregnant, and then a couple months after that, she went into hiding to get away from you." He sighed, folding his hands. "Now we're all here, gathered around, hearing you allow your second in command to call my sister a bitch."

"I didn't mean to call her—" Basilio started to say.

Roman slammed his hand down on the wooden table, making everyone shake in their seats. "Didn't I say, you don't speak yet!" He shouted, angrily.

Cortez cleared his throat. "I apologize on Basilio's behalf. But with all due respect, Roman, you've got no authority here. What are you even doing here? I thought you were working with the Americans now, stationed out in Guatemala."

Roman bit his lip, the little patient that he had was running thin. "It doesn't matter who I'm working for, it's none of your business if we're being honest. What is your business, though, is how many of your little shipments will continue to disappear if I don't find my sister, Cortez. And you're right, I don't have authority here, but what I do have is connections. Lots and lots of connections. So try me."

Cortez tried his best to stay calm. The veins in his neck were close to bursting. With a glance at his men, he nodded. "Excuse us for a minute guys... we'll continue this meeting later." His men stood from their seats and made their way out of the room, one by one. Basilio stayed seated, not sure whether he should leave or stay.

The last thing he wanted to do was piss Roman off.

Roman was unpredictable and from their long history, he knew that he always had something up his sleeve. Literally.

Roman's boots tapped against the concrete floor, waiting for Cortez to speak. "Could we speed this along?!" He said impatiently. Every second spent here was a second wasted in finding his sister.

Cortez waited till the last of his men cleared out before his eyes gazed to Roman. "Before you went M.I.A, you and your sister had an agreement. She asked for you to leave her alone, and if I remember correctly, you vowed to do just that." Cortez stood from his seat, tugging on his gold Rolex as he inched towards Roman. "You're a man of your word, Roman, so do just that. Don't concern yourself about me and your sister's business and you won't make an enemy out of me."

Roman couldn't help the smirk that grew on his lips. He couldn't believe what he was hearing right now. His tongue slid across his already moist lips as he stood tall against Cortez. Both their egos are big enough to suffocate the entire room. They glared into each other's eyes, chest nearly touching. "Look at that, you become the leader of the fucking Cartel and you think you've got the cojones to beat me. Keep in mind little Cory." He said, using his real name. "If you're stepping up to me, you've gotta say that shit with your chest!"

Cortez felt blood rush to his head, he was livid. Everyone knew better to not call him by his old name. "Get the fuck out of here, before I paint your blood on my walls." He threatened, teeth clenched together. He wanted so badly to wipe that smirk off Roman's face.

"Do it then." Roman egged on. "Go ahead, do it."

Cortez thought about it for a moment, about how it would feel to finally do it. With every fiber in his body, he wanted to take out the pistol in his back holster and plant a bullet straight into Roman's temple. But he didn't do it. Instead, he backed up and kept his glaring eyes on Roman.

"That's what I thought, you can't." Said, Roman. "I'm going to leave now and I'm going to go pay the great disciples of Los Anarquistas a visit." He backs away, getting closer to the door he came through. "Remember Cory, the number of hours I spend looking for my sister is the same amount of shipments you'll lose.  And when I find her, you better hope she doesn't confirm any of my suspicions." And with that, he opened the door and walked out.

Cortez felt the anger he was holding in, finally lashing out. He picked up one chair and threw it where Roman just stood second ago. "Ahhh!" He yelled, fuming. With a balled-up fist, he punched the wooden table and didn't stop until he felt his body get pulled away. "Let me the fuck go!" He shouted at Basilio.

"Señor, your hand is bleeding." He pointed out.

Cortez ignored him. "Send those fucking idiots back to that fucking building you told me about and have them search that damn apartment again. They need to search from top to bottom for any signs on where that bitch could've gone with my son. Matter of fact, bring the fucking landlord here. It's time we talk."

Basilio nodded. "Sí señor." before walking away.

Cortez leaned against the grey walls, trying to calm his breathing. He chuckled bitterly, trying to make up a plan for Roman's disposal.

Roman was untouchable right now... but he wouldn't be for long.

That was something they both knew.

Cortez was going to take the strategic route in this situation. He was going to wait patiently for Roman to get comfortable, and when the time was right he'd make his move.

Getting rid of Roman and his stupid ass sister, for once and for all.

________

Roman sat in his black Jeep Wrangler, listening to the sound of Selena's beautiful voice play through his speakers. Water dripped from his wet hair, his wet clothes soaking his seat. His fingers tapped gently on the steering wheel as he mimicked the beat. He cleared his throat, singing the song softly.

Cada Vez.
Cada Vez que lo veo pasar.
Mi corazón se enloquece.
Y me empieza a palpitar.

"Come on, little fucker." He muttered lowly. He was across the warehouse again, watching the place like a hawk ready to strike its prey. "Be predictable, be predictable..."

Bidi bidi bom bom
Y se emociona (y se emociona)
Ya no razona
No lo puedo controlar

His head bopped, fingers drumming harder to the beat. "Come on little Cory, be the predictable idiot that I know you are."

Bidi bidi bom bom
Y se emociona (y se emociona)
Ya no razona
Y me empieza a cantar (cantar)
Me canta así, así, así, así

Roman grew excited when two familiar faces walked out of the warehouse. "Out of all the people, he sent these two fuck ups." He shook his head. "This is gonna be way too easy." He said out loud, watching as Martin and Ferb got into their yellow mustang.

He waited exactly two minutes after they drove off to follow them. With his headlights off and his speed measured, he kept a good distance. Turning down the music, he reached into the cup holder and grabbed his iPhone. It wasn't exactly his iPhone... he had stolen it a few nights ago from some rich drunken idiot at the bar.

As expected, the idiot didn't report the phone stolen, so Roman didn't bother getting rid of it... at least not yet.

Roman dialed the number he had memorized many months ago. The line ringed twice before someone picked up. "It's me." He said, his hand tightening around the steering wheel. "I'm on the move, I need eyes on Cortez."

"Roman?" A soft feminine voice spoke on the other end of the line. She never thought she'd get the chance to hear his voice again. "Roman... is it really you?"

"It's me." He confirmed, his heart pumping hard in his chest.

"You're alive? W...where have you been? Are you... at—"

He cut her off. "We've don't got time for all that Lynn." He said, a little too harsh. "I'm calling in that favor you owe me. I need eyes on Cortez, can you get it down?"

Lynn gulped, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. She bit her lips to keep herself from reacting. She would not do this to herself again, she would not let him break her heart. With a shaky breath, she sighed. "I can."

"Great." He responded. There was so much more he wanted to say... but he couldn't. "I'll call you two days from now, to get an update. Assemble the team. Don't call this number back."

"Okay." She said, sternly.

Roman hung up and threw the phone on the passenger seat. He leaned forward and put the volume up on his speakers.

Bidi, bidi, bom, bom
Bidi, bidi, bom, bom
Bidi, bidi, bom bom
Bidi, bidi, bidi

He made a right turn, keeping his same speed. He raised the volume some more, trying to drown out his nagging thoughts. He had to focus right now... he had to fix his wrongs, and finding his sister was the first step in doing so.

"I'm coming, Eliśa." He whispered into the thick air. "I'm going to do everything I can to find you."

And he meant every single last word.

Sorry for any mistakes.
—Not edited.—