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Chapter 127 THE ROOT OF EVIL

  • [And they knew who was behind the enunciated killings...]
  • Pablo Garcia is an eminent name known by many. Not may have been in a good way, yet his name bring chaos and fear. He is what the street in Mexico would tried their hardest to avoid with. His path they won’t even set foot upon knowing it belongs to him. His territory in possession, which nobody daren’t speak ill. Although, the law would pose who was he? Nobody, but a Capo who do not fear the jury. It was him who have afflicted terror fret to each spine of those who chose the doom to be his enemy. Menace is what lies on every step he left footfalls on the cobblestone of Belize. At his younger days, he stood with glory. He was a young man, who have the strength incomparable with some, but even he aged for years.
  • His youth which has been soon replaced by lines, and wrinkled skin enunciating the years he had been stripped with. But that doesn’t mean Pablo Garcia lost his power, his authority which still remain and now in sought to whoever could replaced the name he had carried for ages and decades.
  • He sit on his swivel chair, while blowing some smoke from the tobacco he gnawed between his lips. Clad on an expensive suit, and tie, while he was facing the trembling Gerry. The latter opposite to him appeared anxious as he knew that being summoned by the Capo could either mean only one thing—death and doom.
  • “Talk.” Pablo leaned his back, and his gaze hold something intense, which made Gerry trembled.
  • “I—I...” He couldn’t speak straight.
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