After instructing his men to take Doctor Dores to their chapel hideout, Marcando walks over to Duncan, who is watching over a group of hostages.
Marcando: You're a clever one, old man. I like working with your type.
The hostages—Galeno among them—are lined up on their knees, their hands tied behind their backs. Marcando has ordered they be taken to the manor.
Mr. Duncan: Haha, much appreciated. I've tried to pick up a thing or two over the years.
Marcando: You've had plenty of time to learn, a man of your age. By the way, what about that girl? Where'd she go?
Sotheby is missing.
Mr. Duncan: Dunno. Maybe got scared away. You know how little rich girls are.
Mr. Duncan: I'm certain she's found her way back to her daddy's bodyguards. She'll be no cause for concern.
Marcando: Fine, fine. No need to worry about this spoiled little girl. Now, this bastard on the other hand.
Marcando kicks Galeno hard in the stomach.
Mr. Duncan: Leave the boy be. He's not got much time left, if he doesn't give up those names.
His eyes dart around, keenly scanning his surroundings.
Marcando had left with about a dozen men, but he's only come back with nine.
Mr. Duncan: Hot enough out here? Luckily, I've got a bit of vino left. You a fan of wine, Mr. Marcando?
Mr. Duncan: I'll fetch some for us, and all the brothers and sisters here! Let's drink to the Brotherhood, and the opportunities that lie ahead.
Marcando: Hahaha, you old fox, I see your game! But why not? We could all use a drink.
Mr. Duncan: You over there! Keep a watch on this guy. Don't let him get away!
He gives Galeno a kick in the backside as he leaves.
Old Duncan waits by the water, his eyes anxiously fixed upstream.
Eventually, a small boat carrying Lopera and a few men rows into view.
Mr. Duncan: Finally ...
The boat docks, and they jump ashore one by one, carrying spiked wine in their hands.
Lopera: Duncan! You nearly had me there. When did you plan all this?
Mr. Duncan: I've had it brewing for a while, but things have been changing fast lately. Honestly, I didn't expect to be doing this now.
He counts the men. Just six of them. Fewer than expected, but enough.
Sotheby: There's enough snoring syrup in the wine now to put them all in a dreamy, deep, deep sleep!
Sotheby: Oh, but might it have had a stronger effect if I had included a dash of slumber belladonna in the recipe?
Mr. Duncan: This will be more than enough, little lady. We only need to get them to drink the wine, then—
Sotheby: Oh, then you must drink this! Just a drop!
She rummages around in her skirt for the potion.
Eventually, she produces a bottle of thick, pine green liquid.
Sotheby: It will stay on your tongue and prickle around in your mouth. That way, you won't drift off like the others. I've concocted much tastier potions before, but this one ...
Memories of her past experiments come flooding back, almost bringing her to tears.
Mr. Duncan: It'll do just fine. Thank you, little lady.
He smiles as he takes the bottle and downs its contents. He raises his flute, signaling the next step of the plan.
Mr. Duncan: Pass me the wine and wait for my signal. When you hear me playing this flute, you'll know it's time to strike.
Mr. Duncan: The wine's here! Courtesy of an old friend from Mexico. Take a glass, everyone!
Marcando: Here's to His Reverence's good health!
Brotherhood Member: To His Reverence's health!
Mr. Duncan: To Marcando! To the Invincible Brotherhood!
Brotherhood Member: To Marcando!
The flattery and alcohol have successfully lowered Marcando's guard.
Marcando: Duncan, that your flute? Give it over.
Marcando snatches Duncan's flute and looks it over.
Marcando: This is, hiccup, a f-fine flute!
Marcando: D-Duncan, did you-you said that you g-got a f-friend in Mexico, huh? You know that old Mexican song "La Llorona"?
Can't blow the flute just yet. A few men are still awake.
Mr. Duncan: Heheh! That I do! I learned it from the best—in the "Cactus" back in Tulum, from a fine young lady with silky hair and gentle eyes as dark as coffee.
An improvised lie, but there's truth in it. The Cactus Bar in Tulum is real, at least.
Marcando: Sure, so-uh, how fine was this lady?
It seems beautiful ladies are much more interesting than music to him.
Mr. Duncan: Ah, don't let me start spinning that yarn. It'll be no fun for you to watch an old man bursting into tears.
Lies and fake tears. Duncan's acting wouldn't fool the sober, but with his audience under the influence of alcohol and potions, he just might get away with it.
Mr. Duncan: I'll only say I was heartbroken by the time I left. Ah, that love of mine! sigh Anyway, enough about the old flames of yesterday! Let's raise a glass to a better tomorrow!
Marcando: To poor old Duncan, hahahaha!
Brotherhood Member: Hahahaha! To poor old Duncan!
Duncan adeptly retrieves his flute before pouring out more drinks.
He feigns joy, drinking and laughing with his "new friends," until they're too drunk to stand.
Every one of them is utterly inebriated.
Marcando and his "hounds" pass out, one by one, until they're all fast asleep.
Mr. Duncan: It's time.
He blows the flute, and his companions jump into action.
Brotherhood Member: Good, good music.
Brotherhood Member: Mm? Who-Who are you?!
COMBAT
Mr. Duncan: Lopera! Galeno! Come on, give me a hand!
Marcando: F**king traitor!
Mr. Duncan: Time to cash you out.
He pins the struggling Marcando to the ground.
Marcando: You'll be ... be-begging for Lord Santos's mercy!
Mr. Duncan: Be reasonable, kid. The Brotherhood is finished. Your time's up.
He pulls the knife from Galeno's waist and finishes Marcando off "the São Paulo way."
Mr. Duncan: Don't let them slip away!
Sotheby: Mr. Ka-Karson ... But ... You ...
She swallows her words. No, her butler would never do something like this.
This is the raw, fierce power of a man who has lived on the streets of the favela.
Meanwhile, Lopera catches up to a fleeing thug and cracks him over the head with the butt of her gun.
Galeno: Let me.
He picks up a metal bat and stands over the fallen thug in front of Lopera.
Lopera: Think you can handle this?
Galeno: Yeah, I've got it!
He swallows hard and aims at the spot where the gun butt had struck.
Galeno: For the favela.
Galeno: The Brotherhood must go!
The battle is over.
Mr. Duncan: Sorry to put you through all that, kid.
Galeno: Don't mention it. If this means we can get rid of them for good, it'll all be worth it. So, what's next?
Mr. Duncan: Next, Zeno will come around to pick you up. But first, we've got to get back to the Veterans' Residence.
Unease spreads among the group. They exchange a few glances.
Galeno: No, sir. One of you has to stay. The people need to see you, or they'll worry that you've deserted us.
Lopera: I can make it there on my own. Stay with them, Duncan.
Sotheby: And me!
An unexpected volunteer steps forward.
Sotheby: I've seen there are many sick children here in the favela.
Sotheby: I'm certain that I could do something to help them!
Lopera: Uhm, I'm not sure it's a good idea, Sotheby. The favelas can be dangerous if you don't know them.
Mr. Duncan: The brave young lady can stay with me if she likes. I'll keep her safe.
Galeno and the others nod.
Mr. Duncan: What do you say to that, little lady?
Sotheby: Ms. Sotheby is never afraid!
Mr. Duncan: It's decided then. Lopera, head for the Veterans' Residence. Tell them what happened and contact Admiral Igor from there.
All hesitation leaves Lopera's body once she hears her father's name.
Mr. Duncan: Galeno!
Mr. Duncan: You've done us proud, kid. If I were king, I'd have made you a knight. Who knows, maybe the little lady could do that for us.
Mr. Duncan: But first, young Galeno, we'll seek another deed worthy of knighthood. It's time we fight for our people!