Mateo glances over to his left as he passes through the lobby. A hauntingly familiar face stares back at him, but he can’t quite place it. “Como Se llama,” Frank asks in Spanish. The man furrows his brow before replying, “Mi nombre es Martín.” Mateo’s brain, although poorly rested and only aided by cocaine-induced insomnia. Suddenly has an explosion of verbal and emotional aggression. He switches to English, so no one in the lobby can understand his response to the man. “Nah Motherfucker, your name is Gèrman Naranajo! Three Years Ago, you stole 68 million pesos from me and willingly left your fate in the hands of destiny. I gave you my promise on that day. Made in blood. No matter the time or distance. My face, the face of no regrets, the face of justice’s scale, the face of death. It would be the last face you would see before you left this earth.” “Today is that promised day, mi amigo. Today all scales will be balanced, all checks paid in full, no unpaid debts further permitted, and no remaining balances.” “I have resided in Hell and battled with its inhabitants on a relentless non-conforming, non-forgiving, soul-altering journey to deliver the final terms of our non-negotiable contract. Welcome!” As he permits the man entrance into his underworld. During the encounter, building security did very little in response to the altercation in the lobby between Mateo and the Ghost from his past, maybe because they didn’t understand what was being said or maybe because Mateo had earned a reputation of a man not to be played with or challenged. The doorman tells Mateo, “You are a ‘Loco Gringo,’ continuing to explain in Spanish that even though he didn’t understand completely what was said. He understood that the man told Mateo his name was Martín. But his name is Gèrman, and he’s a guest of a resident in Tower 2. Mateo offers the doorman 500,000 pesos for the apartment number. Mateo knew this was one month's salary for the doorman. The information is exchanged as if he already knew it would be expected. Mateo immediately goes to meet with his Russian associate, that resides in the penthouse of his Tower 1. He then calmly reminds his associate of previous conversations between the two over the last year of their friendship. Without any unnecessary over-explanations and with a total lack of indignation of any version of Frank that landed in Bogota 3 years earlier. His Russian associate tells Mateo, “Don’t worry, comrade, this alliance we made on these hallowed grounds that death resides, where we have become so comfortable. It is the most honest homeland we will ever know.” Explaining that Mateo “must crush his enemy totally” because “Even a little tiny ember left unextinguished is more than enough to leave the forest ablaze,” the “Eastern European Don” advises Mateo. These things Mateo needed not explained to him; Law 15 was not to be taken lightly or hesitated upon.
