Debris littered the streets from the celebration of Libertad's 3-1 victory over Olympia. This was a feat that hadn't happened in the last ten attempts. After the match, fans drank and danced for hours as the victors paraded down the streets leaving red, white, and blue confetti everywhere. With the festivities coming to an end, the streetlights were now beaming brightly, spotlighting the last few drunks who stumbled about their way. Nighttime had fallen, and the town had become quiet.
Louis decided to hold the meeting with Alfonso Gomez in the rear of La Paraguayita restaurant. The owner's father was a personal chef for Louis during the war. Louis was always welcome given that he had provided the owner's father with work during times of famine.
The scheduled time for the meeting was 10:00 p.m. but Louis arrived an hour early to have his security sweep the building. Even though the restaurant's owner pledged loyalty to the government, Louis could never be certain. Now the people closest to him concerned him the most.
He sat in a booth, located in the back of the restaurant, with his back towards the wall, dining on a bowl of bori-bori and a glass of red wine. He hummed along to the soft melodies of Augustín Barrios, the famous composer whose music graced the restaurant via speakers. When he was a child, his mother always knew he enjoyed his meal when he hummed while he ate. This was a habit that followed him to adulthood.
"Mr. Gomez, you're late!" Louis said when he finally arrived. "My time is important."
"My apologies, Mr. President." Mr. Gomez was alone.
"When we last spoke, you stated that you, along with some others, wanted to have a meeting with me. Did your friends have a change of heart?"
"My apologies again, Mr. President. Word spread about the attempt on your life and they changed their minds."
"They changed their minds?"
"Yes, under the circumstances."
Louis summoned the waiter to refill his glass and motioned for Mr. Gomez to sit.
"Would you like anything to eat? You have to try the bori-bori. It's
magnífico."
"No thank you. With all due respect, I would like to discuss the land acquisitions you are proposing and how it will effect so many families."
"What are the people saying about the assassination attempt?" Louis asked.
"I'm not sure."
"I find that difficult to understand." Louis said. "How can you say that you are meeting with me to discuss Paraguay, but you don't know what Paraguay is saying?"
"All I know is -"
"All you know is not good enough."
Mr. Gomez reached for the knot of his tie and loosened it enough to where he felt he could breath. He could feel the perspiration beginning to form in the palm of his hands.
"Did you know that Solono took a bullet in the leg? That bullet had my name on it, not his. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be sitting at this table today. So, I don't give a damn about those land acquisitions. And I don't give a damn about anybody that has a problem with it."
"But Mr. President -"
"Shut that hole in your face, I'm not finished. ¿Comprende?" "Sí."
"Now, I'm only going to ask you one time." Louis rose from his chair. "Are you or anyone you are affiliated with responsible for sending those men to kill me?"
Mr. Gomez paused. "How many leaves are on a tree? Add a few more and that will be the number of enemies you have. I have no idea who was responsible and even if I did, I would not tell you."
Mr. Gomez left the restaurant. Louis tumbled down almost missing his seat as Juan and Ricardo rushed to his aid. Reaching for the bottle of red wine, he drank what was left. He requested and finished another bottle. For the next hour he sat alone, talking to himself and singing along to whatever song was playing in the restaurant.