White Squad

– Flavinho, let's spend the afternoon at the beach?

– Love, today I would be able to ride a sled to the stars with you. Staying until the sun rises on the beach, pushing away every grain that touches your body, and counting the waves, daring the ironies of the world, smiling to fate, deceiving death to the very end, just to be with you. You are all that is best in me, and whatever is inside me, is chained to you. Babe, do you know what day it is today?

– Of course, my poet ... Margo responds with a long kiss, stopping the running crowd trying to catch the last bus on Line 175.

Flavinho enters the line, protecting his companion from the pressure of the embarking crowd with his body . A kid complains, telling him to walk. Another pushes. The bus capacity runs out fast. Flavinho slows the line, but the bus jump-starts into a jolt, causing him to bump into a pregnant woman. He apologizes, but she ignores him. The guy next to her stares at him. Flavinho walks away politely without realizing that the stranger talks on the phone while staring at him, but for Flavinho today is a happy party day, an everything is gonna be all right day

Margo and her boyfriend lean against the back of the bus in a romantic mood. The bus follows its route, passengers holding to it like magnets, to an area nearby a military academy.

At the stop, a man wearing a Mets cap enters the bus. Like a snake, he searches and recognizes the target. Draws a gun under his shirt and shoots point-blank at the teenager.

Flavinho falls back with his hand on his chest. Margo tries to contain her boyfriend's blood and screams for help.

The killer jumps out the window and runs in the middle of the street, dodging cars. He crosses the Zuzu Angel tunnel with ease, and climbs the Rocinha Hill through its endless lanes. In a seemingly abandoned house, a group of men hides drug packages into a fake tiled wall. Three young teenagers perform the task, under the close eyes of a very large white man keeping watch. He glimpses the ajar door in search of a good hiding place. In opening, he knocks down a red tricycle, causing a tremendous noise. The big guy reacts, cocks the gun and shoots without blinking. The minors realize the bad luck: the man on the ground is known, it´s Gil.

– Man, you messed up. He's from the fucking community. You killed the dude. We're going to get "scolded" because of this shit. Son of a bitch! Did you have to show up right now? – they comment, nervously.

The gang comes out, rushing through the brick shack window, mingling with people in the alleyways. During the rumble, the neighborhood is the only discreet one. A white shorts resident closes the window and sits on the couch to watch TV. A girl with a baby in her arms goes to the grocery store, as if watching a movie scene. In the shack, Gil remains lying on the ground, bleeding out.

At a French Alps city´s ski station, a stunning redheaded and slender woman practices her first skiing movements. She seems well adapted to the new poles sliding on the track, and, sometimes, bends her knees, simulating a curve, instigating surrounding looks. "I was born for this. Good life, good champagne, a handsome sweet guy..."

A nod: it is the new sweetheart who watches over her from afar. They met as soon as she arrived in Paris. From the date, scheduled through a chatroom, they went out for a drink in a late afternoon, and, from then on, it was just sex and fun. Cadú is a hottie, with a light brown complexion, deep green eyes, elegant, modern and very talkative, in fact, he is a true luxury escort. True and expensive. The obstetrician only has eyes for his chiseled body, always available for sex.

“Handsome, but you have to pay well”, she thinks, arriving at the restaurant, where the boyfriend is helping himself to a brandy. At the table, a plate of escargots succulently awaits the couple. Cadú, always courteous, gets up and offers a chair. His drink is a Remy Martin brandy, but she prefers something more sophisticated.

– Absinthe, Lyanne? But it's a fortune!

– Sweetie, men are meant to pay, or have you already spent the money I gave you? It doesn't matter. There is more where that money came from, . Anything for both of us, dear.

– It's just that I feel a little embarrassed about you passing me money under the table. What if someone sees?

– Nobody cares about these things these days. Anything goes. Ok. Next time I will put it in a nice place for you to look for.

– You and your games! That's why I'm crazy to bang you all the time. Let's go to the bedroom.

– In a minute, insatiable boy.

– Don't call me boy, I hate it when you do that.

Cadú asks for the bill and shuts up with a generous dose of fresh air.

– Calm down, you don't have to get upset, let's have our drink while I relax and get hotter, Bubuzinho.

Lyanne straightens her long red hair and bits the corner of her lip. She steals his brandy, making a point of running her tongue on the corner of her lip. Positive sign: Cadú leaves some bills on the table and they leave.

In the gondola, Lyanne undoes her blouse and exposes her breasts. "Here, it's all yours, but don't tear it, it's expensive, and you can't afford it." Cadú looks a bit annoyed, but prefers to suck her red, upright tits. She spreads her legs and sits over him, unbuttoning the zipper of her wool pants, both bodies protected by a sweater.

An employee receives tourists. Lyanne speeds up her rhythm to a selfish orgasm. She reaches her goal and tells him to end the game. Cadú, disconcerted, settles down, “I wasn't born rich, what am I going to do now? Study ? Now, it is not possible anymore, that time is over! ”. She hurries him.

– Now, let's go shopping, honey. You need a new watch, the Rolex you wear is too worn out.

– You don’t have to. I heard this is the land of Mont Blanc, it should be more affordable.

– You don't know anything, imagine, a Mont Blanc does not measure up to the technology of a Rolex. These futile things, you leave them to me, I know best, Bubuzinho.

The couple drives on the cobblestone road that cuts through the Chartreuse mountains towards the snowy valley. Lyanne, behind the wheel, runs her hand over Cadú's pants in a hopeful voice: "My handsome, Lyaninha will let you come next time."

In his office, decorated with colorful images of Guanabara Bay and a huge gold inlaid table with two white leather sofas on the side, Conrado examines some documents in a patient folder. Letter H. The nurse announces the arrival of a patient. A 75-year-old man enters and is greeted with a light hug.

– Haroldo, how are you doing?

– Not so good, Conrado. I have noticed that my legs are always wobbly, I am very tired. I feel this treatment is making me weak. Can't we take a break?

– Chemotherapy is like that. It takes time for a person to recover. The feeling of weariness is normal, after all, we are facing an enemy. The process to slow down cancer cells reproduction and the tumor is painful, but this is our challenge: mine and yours. Imagine that this is an enemy that you have to fight every day: this is how chemotherapy works. You will see that all this effort was worth it. How are the headaches?

– Come and go. Only the tiredness is wearing me down.

– It's natural, so let's continue with the treatment. In a month from now you will have blood tests to assess the platelets condition.

– Conrado, I'm not sure I want to continue with this. I know this cancer is malignant and tends to spread. I'm going to die, aren't I? Tell me the truth, you have become my friend, you can be absolutely sincere.

– Haroldo, chemotherapy is the only proven tumor inhibition technique, without it, we have no alternatives.

– My granddaughter is insisting that I travel with her. She wants to take me to Canada, the weather is mild at this time. I have a good reserve of money and I want to use it, after all, life without Bete is very hard. Old and alone, it is very difficult.

– Your granddaughter is an example of a girl, she worries, one notices that she loves you and that is admirable, but I believe it is not your time yet. Wait for another six months, the treatment term, then you travel, agreed?

Conrado says goodbye to him with a light hug, asking for a little more patience. The old man looks disappointed. Conrado puts Haroldo's file under a pile of paper and consults the secretary about the next patient. His last generation cell phone rings. The man identifies himself as police officer Martins and asks for a patient's medical record. Conrado claims that he has already provided the death certificate, but he counters that the document is vague and contains only the main factor: vital organs failure due to hospital infection. Conrado insists that the medical record would be of no value to the police, just technical information.

– But I need the details of her death, even if it is just an embellishment for journalists.

The doctor ensures he will provide the papers by the end of the week.

Satisfied, Martins, gets up from his desk, evaluating his reflection in the police station´s mirrored glass. A man of average height, white and with a spiked haircut, he looks cool today . He goes around the room, tuning his charm, aiming at the boss's secretary at the end of the corridor. He leans over her table and looks down at the mulatto woman´s cleavage, under her long braided hair. His eyes are of a bright blue color so attractive she could not escape his sight.

– Two hours in the saloon, but it's worth it," the 20-something mulatto woman insinuates. She emits body waves in skinny jeans and a combined turquoise top. Martins puts his hand on the braids and slides towards her breasts. Suzi stops him by reminding him about her boyfriend, "a sturdy wall".

– I know, the boss! – completes Martins and the secretary boasts about it. – Suzi, you're lucky the boss's wife has no idea.

People are approaching and Martins controls himself. Justifies himself with a message to his chief about the medical record request. He looks at the bottom of his colleague's knitted top and leaves, realizing that he has again lost the chance to get the boss's girl to bed.

In the Hospital surgical center, the surgeon finishes the procedures at the boy, who presents a strong hemorrhage in his chest region. He removes the bullet and deposits it on a metal tray. Julio has his moment and analyzes the bullet's curve trajectory, sliding over the utensil, making an irritating noise. The experienced doctor, in his forty-five years, has a curriculum considered normal in the balance of losses and gains. He has worked in the hospital's emergency department for five years and knows how things go. He gets out of surgery, takes off his gloves and washes his hands, watched anxiously by the young woman with braces on her teeth, unsuccessfully wiping out her tears outside the watch-window: Margo, leaning against the room door, approaches him.

– He's young and will survive. The bullet was successfully removed and the bleeding stopped. Everything went well – the doctor tries to comfort her.

– Save my boyfriend, he's an angel.

– Calm down, the first 24 hours are the most critical. After this phase, the organism will start reacting with its own defenses against the infection. He will be able to recover.