Early the next afternoon, Luiz made his way through Santa Marta, heading towards Livio’s house. If he didn’t yet feel entirely at ease within the favela, at least he had lost the dreadful fear of discovery that had haunted his every step during the first few days. Here and there he even recognized a familiar face – received a nod of recognition back from the Comando Negro members milling about on the favela street corners.
After the phone call from Madison, Luiz was more concerned about Trojan Industries. Perhaps he should have felt relieved at the thought that Jordan might call the whole thing off, but then there was no telling what would happen to Ana. Luiz didn’t trust Trojan enough to think that they’d help free her out of the goodness of their hearts. Her best hope was that Luiz could somehow successfully complete his mission.
Wrapped up in his thoughts, Luiz didn’t see the little boy shuffling along the shady part of the street until the last minute.
‘Hey, Dog!’ he called out. ‘Wait up!’
The boy glanced up fearfully at the sound of his name. Even though a few days had passed since the football match, Dog still bore the scars of Stripe’s assault: his nose was bent out of shape and the flesh around his right eye had swollen and turned an ugly purple.
Having given him a friendly wave, Luiz was surprised to see Dog break into a scuttling run down the nearest side alley. Briefly he thought about going after him, then decided against it. All of the Comando Negro knew Santa Marta like the back of their hand and Luiz wasn’t going to risk getting lost in the maze. Anyway, after what had happened to Dog, it was hard to blame the boy for wanting to avoid other gang members.
Arriving at the MC’s shack, Luiz was surprised to find that he was interrupting a family meal. Livio was trying to coax a little girl into eating another spoonful of food, while his wife rocked a crying baby in her arms, whispering gentle hushes into its ears. The MC gestured for Luiz to come in, a smile wreathed across his face.
‘Luiz! Come in, man. Meet my wife, Gabriela.’
Livio’s wife was probably the same age as Luiz – a small, dark teenager with serious eyes. As Luiz greeted her, Gabriela smiled politely back, but there was no warmth in it. She warily ushered the little girl into the adjoining bedroom and carried the baby in with her, closing the door behind them.
Livio noticed Luiz’s concerned expression. ‘Don’t worry about Gabriela. The stuff with the Quarto Comando’s got her a bit jumpy, that’s all.’
‘Why’s that?’
The MC shook his head. ‘Don’t you get it, man? They tried to kill Angel! He’s not just going to sit there and take it! And we still got problems with the Compadres too. There’s going to be some serious shit going down in the next few days, believe me.’
‘You going to be involved?’
Livio shrugged. ‘I’m Comando Negro, aren’t I?’
‘I’m guessing Gabriela wishes you weren’t.’
‘She’s living in a dreamworld,’ the MC shot back, getting up from the table. ‘This is real, all this right here.’ Suddenly animated, Livio strode over to the wall of his shack and scratched a fingernail across it. A crumbly powder of brickwork broke off, which he rubbed between his fingers. ‘The walls in this place are falling down, Luiz! All the houses in Santa Marta are like this: mine, Stripe’s, Angel’s… It doesn’t matter who you are in the favela, this is the best you get. You don’t think I want better for my family?’
The MC collapsed into a chair and cracked open a bottle of Skol. He frowned.
‘You ever see those houses on the other side of town? The big ones with all the gates and the guards?’
Luiz nodded. Rio’s wealthy inhabitants tended to hide as far away from the favelas as possible, in gated compounds protected by round-the-clock security. Livio sighed.
‘That’s where I want to live, my friend. Kick back in a swimming pool all day, not having to worry about money or any of that shit. I barely got enough to keep my kids in clothes! You ever hear that Councillor Cruz on the TV calling us animals? You think his walls are falling down? A greedy politician like him, filling his pockets whenever he can? I grew up with nothing. I’m going to die with nothing. No one’s going to help me. I’ve got to help myself. If that means I’ve got to pull the trigger, then so be it.’
Livio broke off to take a moody swig from his bottle. Surprised by the passion of his outburst, Luiz was unsure what to say. After a pregnant silence, the MC snorted to himself and waved a dismissive hand.
‘Ignore me. I get carried away sometimes.’ A grin stole over Livio’s face. ‘Enough speeches, man. Let’s go have some fun.’
The pickup truck hurtled through the favela, homing in on the thundering bassline that was booming out over Santa Marta in a series of sonic explosions. Sitting in the back of the vehicle, Luiz laughed as the truck bounced wildly over a pothole, sending him tumbling to the floor. Beside him, Livio pointed and laughed.
‘Bet you wish you were driving now, asshole!’ he crowed.
Luiz’s cheeks were flushed and his head was giddy from the beer he had drunk. Livio had made it clear that he expected Luiz to keep him company through the afternoon – refusing would only have made him stand out. As the hours had passed and the rest of the Comando Negro command had joined them, for the first time since returning to Santa Marta Luiz’s mission had slipped from his mind. Now they were heading for a baile-funk party over on the far side of the favela, which Livio had promised would be filled with popozudas – pretty girls with curvy asses. It was Joker peering out into the darkness behind the wheel of the truck, while his elder brother sat alongside him.
As their destination came into view – a large shack to the east of Santa Marta – Livio whooped with delight. The corrugated-iron walls were shaking to the vibrations of the bass, as though at any moment the music might bring the roof crashing down around everyone’s ears. It was immediately apparent that the Comando Negro had provided security for the party – two boys dressed in black were standing by the front door, assault rifles cradled in their arms. As Angel got out from the front passenger seat, he nodded at the guards, then marched briskly past them into the club.
Walking inside, Luiz was assailed by a maelstrom of noise. The room was pitch black, the darkness punctuated by a firestorm of red strobe lights that gave people’s faces an eerie glow whenever it fell upon them. On the stage two DJs were hunched over banks of mixing desks, while an MC rapped over the harsh loops.
The reaction to the Comando Negro’s entrance was immediate. A cheer went up from the crowd and the MC pointed to them, shouting out a greeting. Two younger boys bounced towards Luiz, making the shape of the letters ‘C’ and ‘N’ with their fingers in celebration of the gang. Someone thrust another beer bottle into his hand, patting him on the back. Although most people went out of their way to greet the Comando Negro and be friendly with them, Luiz couldn’t help noticing the others – the young people who stepped out of their way, heads bowed, fearfully refusing to make eye contact. Although part of Luiz wanted to tell them that he was different, that he wasn’t a violent killer, another part of him felt a guilty thrill of power. He thought of Dog – suddenly it seemed entirely understandable that the little boy wanted to be a part of this, no matter what it would end up costing him.
The dance floor was so jammed it looked as though the entire population of Santa Marta had tried to fit into the one room. Luiz couldn’t help but notice the girls, who had apparently prepared for the cramped, steamy conditions by wearing as little as possible. They were grinding their bodies in time with the beat, their bare midriffs glistening with sweat.
A hand clamped down on Luiz’s shoulder. Angel watched the girls dancing, taking long drags on a thick cigar.
‘You’ll have fun tonight, Luiz,’ he said, grinning, his white teeth gleaming in the darkness. ‘Make sure you find yourself a good woman. You’re Comando Negro, remember? We got a reputation to uphold.’
With that, the dono patted his cheek and walked off. Luiz was suddenly aware that he was on his own. Livio had vanished, while Joker was happily surrounded by a ring of admiring girls, who listened spellbound as he retold the story of the showdown at the Hotel Real.
‘So there’s bullets flying everywhere and my man Luiz is driving like Felipe Massa…’ Here Joker slipped in an impersonation of the Formula One driver steering round a hairpin. ‘It was a miracle we got out, I’m telling you.’
His story was interrupted by a massive roar of approval from the crowd. Luiz turned round to see Livio taking the stage. The MC was dressed in baggy desert-camouflage shorts and a Portuguese football shirt with ‘Ronaldo’ written on the back. Microphone in hand, he prowled across the stage, like a big cat marking out its territory. Then, as the beats behind him began to intensify, he broke into a low growling rap that got the crowd yelling and screaming in appreciation. The laid-back family man from earlier in the day had completely vanished. Luiz could only marvel at his friend’s transformation.
As he stood at the side of the dance floor watching the MC, Luiz noticed a girl smiling at him. He recognized her instantly. It was Marie – the girl who had been at the five-a-side game. Dressed only in a red bikini top and a pair of tiny cut-off denim shorts, she looked a different girl from the one who had watched him so shyly from the sidelines.
Marie broke away from her friends and glided towards him, her thumbs resting in the belt loops of her shorts. She gave Luiz a cat-like grin and wrapped her slender arms around his neck, enveloping him in a subtle wisp of perfume.
‘I was hoping you were going to come,’ she said.
‘Yeah?’ replied Luiz. ‘Why’s that?’
‘I wanted to talk to Santa Marta’s new hero. First you saved Dog’s life and now Angel himself. You’re the talk of the favela.’
Luiz shrugged. ‘I think Angel can take care of himself. I was just driving the car.’
‘Modest too.’ Marie smiled. She kissed him softly on the cheek and whispered in his ear, ‘Let’s get out of here.’
A voice at the back of Luiz’s mind was telling him that this wasn’t a good idea, but at that moment – with the music overwhelming him, the alcohol racing through his system and the beautiful girl smiling at him – it seemed impossible to say no. As he and Marie walked hand in hand out of the club, Livio was barking like a dog into the microphone. He had been joined on stage by a woman in a flimsy dress who was shaking her ass in time to the beat, each grinding movement sending the bottom of her dress flicking up to reveal a flash of white thong. The boys in the crowd were cheering and holding up their camera phones, squabbling among one another as they tried to take the best picture of her.
After the mayhem of the club, the night felt very still and quiet outside. Wordlessly moving past the guards and into the shadows of a deserted alleyway, Luiz and Marie drew closer together and began to kiss. As he felt the soft touch of the girl’s lips upon his, Luiz was dimly aware of the club door crashing open and footsteps making unsteady progress towards them. They came to a halt near the end of the alleyway and then a voice spoke into a phone.
‘I can talk now,’ said Angel. ‘There’s no one around.’
Even though the dono’s voice was slightly slurred, there was a deferential tone that Luiz hadn’t heard before. Marie didn’t seem to have registered Angel’s proximity – smoothly, Luiz pressed her closer against the wall and further into the shadows.
‘I don’t know what happened,’ Angel continued. ‘Somebody squealed to the Quarto Comando about the deal. I don’t know who yet, but I’ll find out. I guarantee you that, Doctor.’
The hairs on the back of Luiz’s neck stood up at the word ‘Doctor’. Still kissing Marie, he strained to catch the rest of the conversation.
‘Yeah – I’ll meet you tomorrow. Where? The Casa Bahia? OK, I’ll see you at four.’
With that, Angel turned off his phone and lurched back towards the club. Luiz couldn’t believe it. The Doctor was going to be at a meeting tomorrow, and Luiz knew when and where.
‘What’s wrong?’
Finally noticing his distraction, Marie had stopped kissing him and was now looking at him curiously. Luiz smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.
‘Nothing,’ he replied, drawing her close to him again. ‘Nothing at all.’