The quarry was a jagged wound in the earth, and the air was thick with the scent of leaked gasoline and spent gunpowder. Mario stood his ground, but he wasn't alone.
Desderia had kicked the door of the SUV open before Secilia could lock it. She stood beside him, the wind whipping her dark hair, her eyes blazing with a fire that matched the one consuming the villa on the hill.
"I told you to go!" Mario roared, not looking away from Martin's gun.
"I am a student of the law, Mario," Desderia said, her voice dropping to a calm, terrifying chill. "And the law says a wife doesn't leave her husband to the wolves. If you go, I go. We end the Sanchez line together."
Martin laughed, a wet, hacking sound from his burned lungs. "How poetic. The Ghost and the Scholar. One grave for two."
He signaled his men. A hail of bullets erupted.
Mario tackled Desderia behind a stone pillar, his body taking two hits to the shoulder to shield her. He reached into his vest and pulled out the master detonator for the charges he'd set under the quarry's main support pillars—a "scorched earth" contingency he had prayed he'd never use.
"Secilia! Drive!" Mario screamed one last time.
As the SUV sped away, Sabrina's small face pressed against the rear glass, Desderia reached out and took Mario's hand. Her other hand held the small pistol Secilia had given her.
"Together?" she whispered.
Mario looked at her—the girl from the hotel, the girl who had cleaned his floors and then his soul. He leaned in, pressing a final, bloody kiss to her lips. "Together.
Mario stood up, exposing himself to the gunfire. He didn't fire back. He held the detonator high so Martin could see it.
"You wanted the inheritance, Martin?" Mario yelled over the roar of the engines. "Here it is!"
He thumbed the switch.
The ground didn't just shake; it opened up. The charges blew the foundation of the quarry walls. Thousands of tons of limestone began to slide. Martin's scream was cut short as a massive slab of rock crushed his Cadillac.
Desderia didn't look away. She kept her eyes on the retreating taillights of the SUV carrying her daughter to safety. She felt Mario's arm wrap around her waist, pulling her close as the world collapsed in a roar of white dust and thunder.
In her final breath, she didn't think of the law. She thought of the little girl with green eyes who would grow up free of the Red Blood.
Three hours later, at the pier, the fishing trawler was silent.
Secilia sat on the deck, her clothes covered in grey quarry dust. She held Sabrina tightly against her chest. The little girl was shaking, her eyes wide and unblinking.
Carter approached them, his face a mask of grief. He looked at the empty SUV, then at the horizon where the smoke was still visible.
"They didn't make it, did they?" Carter asked.
"They took everyone with them," Secilia whispered. "Martin, the inner circle, the legacy... it's all under a million tons of rock. Mario and Desderia... they chose to be the foundation of her freedom."
She looked down at Sabrina. The child wasn't crying. She was staring at the water, her small hands balled into fists.
"What do we tell her?" Carter asked.
Secilia wiped a tear from Sabrina's cheek. "We tell her that her parents were kings. And that one day, she is going to go back and take what's left of their kingdom."
As the boat pulled away, the only thing left of Mario and Desderia was the memory of a love that was too bright for a world this dark.