Wings of Fire Ch. 20 - Teaser (Patreon)

As Friedrich and the others were marched toward the dark line of storage cars, Miguel watched them go until the shadows swallowed them. Only then did he switch to Spanish, his tone deliberate and accusatory.

“¿En qué mierda estabas pensando? (What the fuck were you thinking?)” Miguel demanded.

Rafael’s shoulders tightened. “Pensé que podía controlarlo. (I thought I could control it.)”

“You thought you could control Chimera?” Miguel’s laugh was bitter. “You cannot even control Lucero when she sees a shiny knife.”

Lucero, standing close enough to hear, brightened. “I heard my name.”

“Do not help,” Miguel stated, pointing at her without looking, and Lucero pouted magnificently.

“This is not the time,” Rafael sighed as he glanced toward the circling plane as it descended beyond the trees.

“No, little brother,” Miguel stated as he stepped into his path. “This is exactly the time, because that plane is business… real business. Our business, as it was father’s business, and the thing that feeds everyone here. The thing you just endangered because some German supremacist whispered revolution in your ear and showed you a tattoo.”

Rafael flinched at that, and Miguel saw it, glad that the accusation hurt.

“I did not think it would reach this point,” Rafael said, quieter now.

“No. You did not think. That is the point.”

Rafael swallowed his temper this time instead of spending it in a futile tirade of harsh words, which was new. Miguel studied him and saw the first real crack in the boy’s certainty. Not fear of punishment, as Rafael had known punishment before. This was something better: doubt, shame, and the realization that ideals sold in smoke-filled rooms sounded less glorious when they arrived bleeding in stolen aircraft and put the family business one bad police search away from ruin.

“Maybe I went too far,” Rafael admitted as he looked toward the west storage cars. Miguel’s expression shifted, not softening, but looking satisfied, in a grim, older-brother sort of way.

“Good,” he said. “Hold on to that thought. It may be the first intelligent one you have had all day.”

“Thank you,” Rafael grimaced.

“That was not praise.”

“I noticed.”

Miguel looked toward the landing strip where the incoming plane was nearly down. “Pray we get through this clean.”

“And if we do?” Rafael asked, and then Miguel turned back to him with a smile that made Rafael’s stomach sink.

“Then I am still going to give you a drumming like Papa used to whenever you screwed up.”

“Oh, fuck,” Rafael sighed as he closed his eyes.

“Can I watch?” Lucero asked, perking up at the thought of it.

“No!” both brothers said in unison

“Cruel men,” she sighed.

“Is there any way I can get out of the drumming?” Rafael asked, opening one eye, and Miguel pretended to consider it. The incoming plane touched down beyond the field, wheels biting into dirt, and Miguel’s smile grew thinner as he watched.

“Maybe, but that remains to be seen,” he said. Then he straightened his coat, shoved his anger behind his eyes, and turned toward the new arrival. “Now smile. Business is here.”