"Ah, well in that case," The Gentleman gestured over to the strewn corpses of Carlos' associates "this may be a little awkward."
Turning off his night-vision, The Gentleman strode over to pick up his cuff link again, reloading his gun as he did so, on examining the corpses, he noted without surprise that he'd made a much cleaner job of the slaughter than Meredith had. Did the woman always have to be so... ostentatious?
"Given the circumstances, I hope you'll understand if we dispense with the pleasantries Carlos." he told the man, having lowered his pistol, yet still keeping it trained on him from the hip. "As you can see, we're in something of a hurry to become inordinately richer than we were when we arrived. Now, normally I'd say that there's plenty here to share but... actually, wait. That's not right at all, could you imagine if I was like that?" The Gentleman said playfully, looking over at Meredith.
"In any case, why you're here seems simple enough to answer, although I had heard you were retired. What I would like to know before we're on our way is why I didn't know you were going to be here three weeks ago. It seems like a fairly important detail to slip through the cracks of my intelligence. These men don't look like bandito's, so I'm guessing this isn't family business."
Pixie took a moment to study the former bandito as her partner questioned him. Despite having all his men gunned down and the assassin of the ashlands threatening him, he managed to keep his cool. Yep, that was the Carlos she remembered. Greeting threats with a fearless grin.
She laughed and waved towards the Gentleman dismissively, flinging blood around aimlessly as she did, "Oh, there's no need fer that, Gents. He'll tell us what we wanna know an' let us take the loot," Turning her attention towards Carlos, she added. "Won' you, Carlos?"
Carlos nodded, an enormous grin on his face, "Of course! For you, Meredith, I'd give up the world!" Given his personality, most would assume he was guilty of little more than flattery. Pixie knew he was genuine, however. He had to be. "Take it all, it's yours, not mine. Neither are these men, as a matter of fact." He said as he tapped one of their corpses with the heel of he shoe. "And I can assure you they are not banditos. I left the family over a decade ago."
Pixie snickered as she dropped her guard and made her approach, closing the gap between them, "If ya' hadn't you'd be six-feet under by now, I reckon." Knowing Pixie's outgoing nature, the Gentleman thought her demeanor odd. Seeing an old friend usually prompted a more... physical reaction from her. Instead, Pixie kept her distance from the man.
Shrugging, Carlos' grin wavered, "And rightly so." Looking back at the Gentleman, he dropped the smile. No amount of fake charm would convince this man of anything. "I can tell you all about it once we get the carbon out of here. Doing so now would only waste the little time we have remaining. Suffice it to say it was a noble with deeper pockets than Basilio, who may be in the market for an army that can match his own." He nodded. "And you're right, I was in retirement. It gets boring suntanning and sipping martinis everyday, however. Got an offer I couldn't refuse and here I am... not that any of this matters now."
Pixie glanced over to the Gentleman, "I know it's askn' a lot Gents, but you have'ta trust 'im."
"Thank you, Meredith, but there is no need to come to my aid. The Gentleman is a sharp man, we've met before... not that I knew of it at the time." Carlos mused. "He may not know how it came to be, but I pray he's aware of our mutual agreement."
"Yeah, you do what tha' fuck I say, when I say it."
"Sounds about right." Carlos shrugged. Looking down at the corpses Pixie had left behind, he grimaced. "You haven't lost that spark of yours, I see."
Unamused, Pixie glared at him and signaled towards the fallen dollie, "Get ta' werk, beaner." Chuckling, Carlos left her side to do as he was told. Pixie crossed her arms as she looked back to the Gentleman, her smile all but gone. "Don' ask, I don' wanna talk 'bout it." She stated coldly before walking off to load another dollie.
Outgunned or no, Carlos was certainly very quick to relinquish any claim he had staked on the carbon in the vault, and Meredith seemed wary of him nonetheless. The Gentleman knew that Carlos was one of the many people Meredith had rubbed shoulders with in the early years, but the specifics of their relationship eluded him, and until now it had never seemed an issue worth chasing.
"I left the family over a decade ago."
'I was aware. However, when a ghost from the past shows up unexpectedly in the middle of the job of a lifetime, I don't like to make assumptions.'
The Gentleman listened silently to what Carlos had to say. It was interesting to say the least. A noble with deeper pockets than Basilio eh; and looking for an army at that? Such news could be very welcome indeed, but The Gentleman was concerned that this was the first he'd heard of it. He didn't like surprises, they were bad for business, and he'd spent decades and an outrageous amount of carbon building up a network designed specifically to prevent them. As things stood, The Gentleman wasn't about to believe a word of it until he saw some solid evidence. Once he did, if he did, then it would seem that he had more work to do than previously thought.
"The Gentleman is a sharp man, we've met before... not that I knew of it at the time."
The Gentleman couldn't resist a small, self-satisfied smile.
"Indeed. It was your... third cousin who's eye-drops I poisoned wasn't it? No, my mistake. He was the one I convinced was making the arms deal of the century, when in fact he was buying eight thousand two-by-fours and a matchbox. So many memories."
Not long after, Carlos sauntered off to help with the packing, and he and Meredith found themselves side by side.
"Don' ask, I don' wanna talk 'bout it."
"As is your prerogative." The Gentleman replied to her retreating back. "Though you should know, unless you give me a water-tight reason why I shouldn't, I am going to keep a gun pointed at his head."
"Look, I can finish up in here. Go out there with the others and finish your drink. Have everyone in here and ready for a briefing in ten minutes."
Asad smiled silently, letting his arms fall to his side. He stepped back over to the table, picking up his drink.
"Aye, commander." He said softly, patting Tsubaki's shoulder as he moved passed her, opening the door and heading back out into the bar.
Skinner and Bryan were engaged in conversation as he strolled into view, and Jun was...
Well, Jun was Jun.
"I hope I didn't miss the Abbey talk." He smiled, sitting next to Bryan. "That's my favourite bedtime story." Placing his cup on the bar, he rubbed his hands together.
No wonder Tsubaki had made that 'manchild' remark, half of the squad had spent their time talking about sex and complaining about the cold. Jun drank the last drop of his hot chocolate and simply left it on a table. It was time to remind Asad and Bryan that there was a mission ahead. Besides, while he didn't know about the Commander and her history, this was his first time in Frostfall. This was the first time he had experienced its bitter, cold embrace. Asad's mention of the temperature simply presented a decent opportunity to bring up the subject and probably steer the conversation in the right direction. He walked over to Skinner and Asad. It may seem like -- it was butting in; however, with the meeting coming up, Jun didn't have the time to watch them chat about the weather.
"Tell me all you know about Frostfall, Skinner." Jun said.
***
"I don' reckon ya' know any... discreet doctors 'round here, do ya'? We got carbon."
It was rather funny, now the kid was offering her a bit of Carbon, after fixing the moped. Hell, Maria was tempted to swat that offer away and refuse payment, but she knew that wouldn't change her financial situation. Discount? That was a good compromise and there was no need to make a fuss over it. Yeah, that was that settled. Now there was little to do but get things moving. She flashed a smile at the kid, nevertheless, it was slightly forced.
"One right here, chiquillo." Maria replied, "Take me to her."
"Though you should know, unless you give me a water-tight reason why I shouldn't, I am going to keep a gun pointed at his head."
Pixie allowed herself a small chuckle, "Knock yerself out, Gents. He's more'n used ta' havin' guns pointed at 'im when he's hangin' out with me. Keeps 'im sharp."
"It also makes me piss myself on occasion." Carlos added with a small laugh. The rest of the job was done in silence as the trio rushed to load the last of the crates. Once they'd been loaded, the three thieves hopped aboard the trams and rode down the tunnel. Pixie sat in silence for the duration of the trip, examining the large amount of blood that had dried on her arms and dress. Their trek to the safe house would have to be made with caution.
Coming around a bend, Pixie and Gents both went on full alert as an unfamiliar vehicle came into view, "Don't worry," Carlos assured them. "That's the van we used to get here. It's empty." Pixie relaxed her guard and was back hauling crates soon after. The job was complete in short order. Having been fully loaded with as many crates as they could hold, the shuttles embarked on their pre-programmed routes.
As they watched the shuttles leave Pixie laughed and shook the Gentleman's shoulder, "You certainly know how ta' show a girl a good time, Gents! I don' reckon I've had this much fun in'a while." Looking to Carlos, she crossed her arms. "Where y'all headed after this?"
Carlos shrugged, "Back home I suppose. Though, I'd love to catch up if you have the time."
Pixie placed a finger on her chin in thought before turning to the Gentleman, "You don' mind 'im join'n us fer the after party, do ya'?"
This had been the first the Gentleman had heard of an "after party".
"Yes ma'am!" Sprout barked. Signaling to the moped he smiled. "Go on, you outta try it out! I'll sit on the back 'n give directions."
The trip wasn't more than five minutes by moped, but Sprout could tell it had been enough for Maria to enjoy herself. Sprout smiled. It felt good to make people happy, especially pretty girls! Upon arriving at the brothel the pair parked the moped behind the building and made their way into the brothel. Like it had been early yesterday, the bar scene was all but dead.
As Sprout approached the counter the barmaid spotted him, "My friend didn' leave the room, did she?"
"I think she can handle herself pretty well, kid." The barmaid mused.
Sprout shook his head, "Ain't gotta clue what ta' do with that girl." He muttered under is breath, amused. "I don' reckon she told you where she was headed."
"The markets down the street."
"Thanks," Sprout said as he and Maria left the bar. Starting down the street, Sprout laughed. "You know, I just realized somethin'. Yesterday was the last day of my bandit career. Whaddaya' think I should aspire ta' do now? I ain't good at bein' a thief, anyway."
Skinner shrugged, "That's just how we are in Frostfall. We're used to it: we're born in the cold and we die in the cold. What may have started as neglect from the nobility kinda morphed into a way of life. It's shaped us. Made us who we are." He laughed. "Not a particularly compelling argument, but I suppose we've gotta differentiate ourselves somehow."
"Tell me all you know about Frostfall, Skinner."
After studying the young man's stone cold expression, Skinner nodded, "I suppose you ain't looking for trivia or history, eh? Okay, I'll talk shop, then. Vasa's group's been on edge as of late. They're at war with the nobility and aim to end it swiftly and decisively. Or, at least that's what his men want. Vasa's an older fellow and think's like one, too."
Skinner began wiping down the counter as he spoke, "He knows when to sit tight and starve his enemies. The hot blooded young ones know little more than violence. Can't say I don't respect the man a bit. As for the nobles, well, they're just dumb cunts if you don't mind me speaking plainly. They want something out of their people they will never get: loyalty. At this point the people of Frostfall are simply too... independent. Besides keeping the dome running, the nobles do very little for us and we do little more than pay them tribute in return. We don't want a war if it can be helped, but surprisingly, Vasa has the backing of the people. A rare sight anywhere else on the Rock, I reckon."
"Fan out," A gruff voice ordered. "They said they spotted a girl who matches her description in the area." Several men garbed in bandit scarves and flannel dispersed amongst the crowded streets in search of their quarry. Lightly armed as they may be, they were all decent enough shots with a pistol. A well trained and expertly commanded group of thugs, if there ever was one.
Their leader was Jeffery "Gorgon" Yarborough, a large, tan man who had been frequently described as "ripped like Jesus". His grey, flannel shirt was rolled up at the sleeves to showcase a collection of various tattoos that ran the length of his arms, back and neck. Clean shaven, he sported close-cropped, long sideburns that blended perfectly with the rest of his black, buzzed hair. In the center of it all was a short, red-dyed mohawk.
His heavy combat boots shook the ground as he made his way through the market, scanning the area as his men moved on ahead. He took a drag of his cigarette as he addressed his Lieutenant, "You think that jeweler was being straight with us?"
"You think that jeweler was being straight with us?"
"With your ugly mug up in his face?" responded Landon in a low bass voice, "yeah I reckon. Boy was straight pissing himself."
Landon Miller was average in height, but broad with muscle. The sleeves of his dark blue flannel had been cut off at the shoulders, revealing arms like tree trunks. His appearance was deceptive. To look at him, such a man was incapable of subtlety. But it was his ability to move silently, to cross a room and snap the neck of a man who was looking straight at him that earned him the nickname Shadow. And while he looked the twin of his cousin Jake, but one of their extensive shared family, the two could not be more different in terms of personality. Understandable, as they had spent little time together growing up. There was no laughter in Landon's eyes, and where Ruffles looked to be always on the verge of bouncing from wall to wall, Landon was a rock.
Although he disapproved, he didn't react to the smoke that wafted over him. He merely shrugged his assault rifle into a more comfortable position. "Gorgon, I'll say this: There's only two, and far from the Maiden's hardest. The girl, however. They say she has the uncanny habit for walking out of these situations. No room for error here."
"We don't want a war if it can be helped, but surprisingly, Vasa has the backing of the people. A rare sight anywhere else on the Rock, I reckon."
Bryan nodded, replying, "aye, but I reckon that's a good thing in this case. Serves our needs perfectly if he's a hard fight, right? And after a good hard war between two rival factions, nice peaceful Nobles sweeping in to tend the wounds might be seen quite a bit nicer by the masses, eh?"
"You don' mind 'im join'n us fer the after party, do ya'?"
As fun as his visits usually were, The Gentleman had hope to be away as soon as the job was done. There were several appointments that couldn't be properly kept while he was stuck on the Maiden. However, that had been before Carlos had made an appearance, and The Gentleman was very keep indeed to fill in this rather glaring gap in his intelligence.
The hairs on the back of Lilith's neck stood on end, a feeling of dread began to flutter in her chest.
Reaching for her cigarettes and lighter, she casually glanced around the cafe. They were the only ones sitting outside, but no, that wasn't it, the place wasn't busy to begin with. Slowly placing a cigarette in her mouth, she cupped her hands around it as she flicked her lighter open, taking a deep drag as the cigarette took the flame.
No, it was something else. Her eyes searched the market. There seemed to be a distinct lack of shoppers for this time of morning, quiet too.
She rested her right hand on her thigh, her left elbow on the table. Her expression hardened.
Viola and Hannibal retraced the bounty hunter's steps from the previous day and made their way back to the hotel, having to go through a couple of side alleys to avoid the slightly more congested main streets. They arrived at their destination, but stuck to the shadows as so to avoid detection, and saw that Maria was conversing with Sprout; it appeared that the young Bandit had returned the moped, well that earned him a good mark.
Both Sprout and Maria soon hoped onto the moped, and was barreling down the street, kicking up a bit of dust along the way.
"Well darn, that has made it a bit awkward. Guess we ought to catch up with them." Viola remarked as she headed in the direction of the moped; with indication for Hannibal to come with. The pair of them had to break out into a light run so they didn't lose sight of the bike. Their trail soon ended, and they were standing opposite what appeared to be a brothel, Viola had a slight smirk on her face.
"Figures they would be hiding out in a place like this." She told herself, keeping Hannibal within arm's reach. They waited for a few minutes, before the figures of Sprout and Maria appeared out the front of the Brothel, and took a right hand turn on their side, walking down another street, towards what looked like the marketplace. Making sure there was sufficient distance between them and their target, Viola and Hannibal soon followed suit.
"Alright let's move. Remember, follow me and do what I do. Maintain a reasonable distance from them, not too much, not too little. If they happen to turn our way, don't draw attention to yourself, use the surroundings as cover if necessary. Understand?" Viola asked, to which Hannibal gave a simple nod, whether he actually understood that, or was just nodding to not draw her ire they would find out. The pair of them soon walked across to the opposite side of the street, and began walking the same path as Sprout and Maria.
He could see the wonderment in her eye as she grinned. Violence was only one of her vices, after all, "I'll be sure ta' whisk Amy away so's you two can spend some 'quality' time together. I reckon y'all have a lot ta' talk 'bout."
Carlos shrugged, "Sounds like a date."
Having shuffled crates around for the last seven hours--not to mention a the impromptu battle--it was no surprise the three of them were completely drained by the time they had finally arrived at the safe house. It was an understated abode, but it served its purpose. As they entered, Pixie gestured towards the small sitting room they had set up down the hall, "Make yerself at home. Liquor's 'n the kitchen."
Pixie made her way to hers and Amy's room and slammed the door shut behind her. If she had to spend another second in her disguise she was going to lose it. Stepping out of the dress, she made her way into the bathroom where she proceeded to wash off her makeup and the mix of cover-up and blood from her arms in the sink and yank the extensions out of her hair. After splashing her face with cold water a few more times for good measure she removed her stockings and changed into more comfortable cloths: a grey tank top, jeans and combat boots.
As she returned her hairbands to their place around her forearms, she called the Gentleman through the door, "When da' y'all reckon Amy'll---" Pixie's words died in her throat as she noticed a red, blinking light in her peripheral vision. Moments later Pixie was hunched over a large radio, holding headphones to one ear.
Her eye winded and her jaw hung agape as she listened to a monotone, steely voice repeat over and over, "---zzzztttt---MAYDAY, MAYDAY! THE IRON MAIDEN IS UNDER ATTACK! REPEAT! MAYDAY, MAYDAY! THE IRON MAIDEN IS UNDER---zzzttt----"
Without wasting another moment Pixie grabbed the mic, nearly snapping it in-half, "IRON MAIDEN, THIS IS RED QUEEN! DO YOU COPY!? I REPEAT, IRON MAIDEN, THIS IS RED QUEEN! DO YOU COPY!? OVER!"
Pixie planted both hands on the edge of the table and began hyperventilating as she waited for a response. Having heard the commotion from the sitting room, Carlos barged through the door, "Is everything o---"
Suddenly the radio crackled to life. Pixie stared at the radio, frozen completely still as white noise filled the room. After a long, drawn out silence she could finally make out a faint sound, "Jesus..."
It was the sound of children giggling.
"Austin..." Pixie muttered as she stepped away from the radio. Slowly, she turned to face Carlos. He stepped back and planted a hand against the wall behind him when he saw her face. He'd seen that face before. There was more than a fire in her eye... there was an inferno. An unparalleled, unfathomable fury.
"M-Mer.... Pixie, are you---" Carlos began before being completely ignored as Pixie dashed out of the room. Peaking his head out of the room Carlos shouted back towards the Gentleman. "Something happened to the Maiden!" The front door slammed shut. "Should we follow her?!"
Pixie wasted no time as she bolted down the street, some dried blood still caked on her arms. No one made a fuss as she hopped into her crawler on the outskirts of the dome and barreled down the access tunnel. It was nice having half the town in your pocket. No one stopped you to ask questions. If they had, well, they'd be lucky to walk away from Pixie in her current state.
"FUCK! FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK!" Pixie screamed as her crawler flew across the ashlands. When did the ship get attacked? Had anyone survived? What condition was it in? Would it even still be there when she arrived at the coordinates?! All of these questions raced through her mind as she pounded on the steering wheel, cursing the world and herself.
"FUCK ME! FUCK ME! HOW COULD I BE. SO. FUCKING. GOD. DAMN. FUCKING. STUPID!" Relaxing her grip on the wheel she glanced over at the passenger seat to check her gear. Mr. Monroe sat atop a pile of grenades and extra magazines. She need it. All of it, if she was going to take her baby back.
No... what're you, a fuckn' retard?
There was no way she could take on an entire army by herself. If this was Austin... and it was, he had a legion at his back. Child soldiers at that. Could she really bring herself to slaughter droves of children?! Pixie didn't know the answer to that question, so she shifted her focus elsewhere. To the man responsible.
"Austin... Austin... AUSTIN, I'M COMIN' FOR YOU, YOU FUCKN' COCK SUCKER! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! I'M GONNA BREAK YER FUCKN' NECK, YOU LIMP DICK PIECE OF SHIT!" An hour later, Pixie had hardly run out of steam. Though her screaming had died down, she was still fuming as she approached the coordinates. Standing up from the driver's seat, she looked over a dune ahead. It was there. The Maiden was still there!
"THOSE FUCKERS CRASHED IT!" She screeched as she approached the hulking mass of iron from afar. As she got closer, logic began to set in. She was angry, yes, but she wasn't stupid. She wasn't about to get herself killed. Glancing behind her at the cloud she'd been kicking up, she realized anyone they had on look out would be able to spot her approach from a mile away. A god shot could take her out before she got anywhere near the Maiden.
"Fuck!" She shouted as she veered off her path and into a shallow ravine. She took it slow from here, cruising through the winding valley, darting her eye in every direction. Just as she was about to turn up a hill and out of the valley she noticed it... a black mass lying in the ash a few meters away. "Oh God... Oh God no..."
Leaping out of the crawler, Pixie sprinted to the black form. It was Florian, or what was left of him perhaps, "No," She muttered as she knelt down beside him and rolled him over onto his back. "Please God, please don't be dead." She whispered as she frantically checked his pulse. "Oh, thank God...."
The he was unconscious, badly bruised, and likely dying of exposure and dehydration, he was breathing. By some miracle, whatever it was that happened to him didn't knock his breathing mask ajar. Pixie scooped him up and brought him to the crawler, whispering to him all the while, "It'll be okay, it'll be okay..." Pixie threw the weapons on the floor of the crawler and placed Florian in the passenger seat. Frantically, she dug through a large duffle bag in the back of the crawler until she found what she was looking for. "You don' have my permission ta' die, Father, alright?!"
Removing his breathing mask with one hand, she placed a new one over his nose and mouth with the other. His pulse was weak and his breathing was slow. He needed water and he needed it now. Pixie grabbed the front of his mask and was greeted by a satisfying click as she snapped a transparent cantine onto the front of it. Lifting it up for a moment, Pixie fed the cantine's straw into his mouth.
Slamming her foot on the pedal, Pixie used one hand to steer the crawler and the other to squeeze water through the straw. With the crawler rocking around violently it was a wonder he didn't start choking on the water she was feeding him. Coming back out of the ravine, Pixie took one last glance at the Iron Maiden. Now with Florian's life in her hands there was simply no way she could try for the Maiden now. The least she could do was save one Maiden.
Save one Maiden.
This was all her fault.
She cursed under her breath as the crawler peeled out, turned away from the ship and started back towards the dome. She continued to feed Florian water with her freehand, hoping he'd regain consciousness eventually. It wasn't until they'd made it a safe distance from the Maiden that she had a chance to take in Florian's appearance. He was covered in scrapes, bruises and blood. On the verge of death before she had arrived, how did the others fair? Had any of them made it out alive?
After half the cantine had made it's way into Florian's stomach, Pixie let go. She tried to hold it back, but looking at Florian in his current state... and knowing she was responsible... it was too much. She clutched her face, digging her thumb and fingers into her temples as she screamed out in despair. Tears streaming down her face, she slammed down on the steering wheel repeatedly, cursing herself relentlessly.
"You know, I just realized somethin'. Yesterday was the last day of my bandit career. Whaddaya' think I should aspire ta' do now? I ain't good at bein' a thief, anyway."
The moped didn't stutter or cough, it roared as Maria put her foot down. They had arrived at the brothel sooner than Mara had expected, and she quickly killed any questions about what a young boy was doing staying at a place like that. The hotel she had stayed at was seedy enough, anyways, but at least it was cheap. At least the staff at the brothel were friendly, judging by the barmaid. Maria quietly prayed that the search for the ex-bandit's friend wouldn't quickly turn into a wild goose chase. Still, she had just gone to the markets, so maybe Maria was worrying about nothing? Perhaps it was just the spectre of Micky hanging over her. She definitely didn't want to lose another patient again.
Maria let a laugh, "A mechanic? You're good enough, 'specially if you got that old thing working again."
***
Jun listened to Skinner - at least that was the background sorted. The more important information would probably be handed out during the meeting. As soon as Skinner was finished with his spiel, Jun walked over to the meeting room and glanced the set-up over, just to keep himself busy. The waiting was horrible. It was fortunate that Jun didn't have a watch, otherwise he would have keep a count of time wasted by idle chatter.
"Just a little bit, but I'll manage until lunch time."
"Good, we wouldn't want you deciding I'm a fun sized-... That's not good." The smirk fell, and Tobin felt himself reaching for the revolver as he noticed the reaction of his company. He heard... little. Very little, too little for this time of day. It was a sort of "Too Quiet" moment he was trained to look out for.
Luckily, he was trained.
He scooted out his chair a bit, unclasping his gun and looking around, using all senses to locate where the danger was, and if it was truly there.
"I've seen you fight, right? Think you can handle that again? [sub]Hope so...[/sub]"
______________________________________________________________________________________________ Boomhower Group
"Y'all in position?"
Their radio crackled to life, Ruffles quickly answering with his usual self. Just as well, Warren was feeling oddly giddy. Time was almost here, just had to wait for the fucking kid to do his thing, make sure everything is dead, then the storming began.
"This is Black Magic to Dark Chocolate. We are in position and read you loud and clear, over."
"Vanilla Wonder calling in. Approaching building on the East Side, repeat, East Side. Hang on to your seats, over."
Vergil switched from radio to headset, tucking the handy dandy walky talky into his jeans. He had taken something close to a shortcut in his little detour. It all worked out wonderfully, really, the injured soldier left him a bag and huffed his way away, Vergil only able to see the back of his sweaty jacket and a shine off his bald dome. Vergil offered a friendly wave as he checked over his new goodies. Binoculars, tazer, bolt cutters, 4 timed charges, and... coat hanger? He shrugged, moving on.
It was a weird sight, the estate. A diamond in the rough, truly, or a mansion in the ghetto. Whichever felt more appropriate. As he slowly scaled over the large walls, he couldn't help but be annoyed. He didn't expect people to be charitable, especially crazy fucking bandit clans, but they didn't even try to act like anything but fucking villains. He snuck by a lot of guards, all speaking of inane things, some talking about "Guests." That certainly would raise hopes, but he felt the need to make sure first. He was thorough, after all.
Vergil ducked behind some shrubbery, after three laps around the estate. He counted off the number of guards, 7. Each packing semi-impressive heat, though he knew there was more. He also knew that there was a lot of noise on the top floor, near the back of the estate. Something was going on up there, he sighed. Checking it out would mean going in. Or trying to climb up the side, but he wanted his death to be a bit more of a challenge. He sighed as he placed his third timed charge, all set for 10 minutes. He would have to be fast from here on out.
He approached a window, seemed like no one was actually inside. Good. He slid it open, wincing slightly at what minor noise it made, and slid into the house. His initial scan was right, not a soul. This was a dining room by the look of it, decadent as the rest. He groaned softly to himself, crouching down and moving as silently as he could out. He saw a staircase through one of the windows, but he also saw an inattentive guard in front of it. Easy pickings. He sneaked next to him, he seemed to be looking up the stairs, listening for something... Vergil moved the crook of his arm to his throat, closing his windpipe.
'1. 2. 3...' The man was out soon enough, limp in his arms. He sat him down on the stairs, moving up towards the source of the noise. Doors lined the hallway as he sneaked through, no where to hide... but no guards, either. Odd. He heard the noise growing louder, cheering? He peeked through a door, crowds of people, two injured men in the center Vergil could see. He switched on his headset.
"Okay, I think there's a bit thing going on here-"
*BANG*
Vergil flinched, "FFF-fffuck." Vergil covered his mouth, moving to one of the doors, swinging it open and stepping inside. He took a moment, before speaking "... I think one of the prisoners just shot another. One's still alive, bearded and hairy from what I saw. What do I do, over?"
"... And after a good hard war between two rival factions, nice peaceful Nobles sweeping in to tend the wounds might be seen quite a bit nicer by the masses, eh?"
Skinner laughed, "Is that what you think is going on here? Hell," He sighed as he rubbed his face. "Frostfall ain't nothing but a pawn on the board for Basilio. Don't think for a second he gives a damn about what happens to us."
Tsubaki had just finished marking a map of Frostfall with little flags when Jun arrived. They shared a none too awkward silence as the pair studied the setup. Noticing Jun had set his gaze upon his own position on the map, Tsubaki nodded, "I'll be spotting for you. The abbey's clock tower makes for an adequate vantage point. I will be monitoring the operation from there. Should make for a good perch for you as well. If we have to bale we can quickly reach the ground floor using a rope in the tower."
The banditos went ballistic after the gun fired, sending Silo and his chair backwards, toppling head-over-heels. The back of the chair slammed against the ground creating a huge splatter of crimson liquid across the floor as blood oozed out of the back of his head. SIlo was dead, and thanks to Aesop, so were his secrets.
A huge grin on his face, Rodrigo clapped his hands together, "Exquisito!" Rodrigo shouted. "Come on, come on! Get him up! Get him up!"
Four banditos lifted up the chair by the legs, laughing as they brought him through the door and out into the hall. A large gathering of banditos followed. Their cheers echoed through the manor's empty halls. Randy shook his head and walked towards the window, "Fuck, Rodrigo. This one don' know shit. You killed the one we needed."
Rodrigo ignored his remarks and sat on the table next to Aesop, "My boys'll take your friend's corpse outside the compound and march it around for all to see. He'll be in pieces by the end of the night!" He mused, with a sadistic grin.
"A mechanic? You're good enough, 'specially if you got that old thing working again."
Sprout shrugged, "Maybe, that's actually a purddy good idea there, Miss. I was taught by the very best, I reckon." After a few blocks Sprout began to notice the crowd thinning the closer they got to the market. Getting a tad worried, he slowed his pace and scanned the crowd. The crowd seemed the thinnest near a restaurant one block down. "Shit."
There it was. He noticed a man in an alley across from the restaurant, rifle at the ready, "Stay close." Sprout muttered as he led Maria a nearby alley. Throwing himself up against the wall, he peered around the building. Just as he thought, there were others wearing similar outfits. It was Lilith... it just had to be. Drawing his revolver, Sprout looked to Maria, "Ya' might wanna hide somewhere. This'll get messy right-quick."
"Gorgon, I'll say this: There's only two, and far from the Maiden's hardest. The girl, however. They say she has the uncanny habit for walking out of these situations. No room for error here."
"Noted," Gorgon muttered as the two pushed through the crowd.
A few minutes later a voice came in through his earpiece, "--zzztt---We spotted a girl who matches her description. She's with a kid at the cafe down the street.---zzzttt---"
Gorgon grinned, "Engage on my order." Looking to Landon he nodded towards the Cafe. "Let's move." Once they'd made it a block from their destination Gorgon signaled for Landon to sneak around the side. His men now in position, Gorgon walked out into the street and stood in front of the cafe.
Gorgon tapped the revolver at his hip and laughed, "Casino!" Their eyes met. "We have you surrounded. Come out with your hands where I can see them. The kid, too. This doesn't have to get violent."
Lilith clenched her jaw, she knew it, she fucking knew it. Why the hell did she leave the damn brothel?
As her eyes scanned the area, she slowly moved her hand up her thigh and towards her holster pausing beneath it as she got a final count.
Seven, seven guys, probably more she couldn't see, without moving her head, she shifted her eyes to both sides. Nothing, probably still waiting for the order to move.
"Casino!"
Her eyes locked on the hunter's, an intimidating looking man, with a red mohawk. Her eyes shifted to Tobin, had he set her up? She began to feel sick to her stomach, her elbow still on the table. Reaching over to her mouth, she took a deep drag of her cigarette.
"We have you surrounded. Come out with your hands where I can see them. The kid, too. This doesn't have to get violent."
Kicking her chair from beneath her as she got to her feet, she slowly raised her hands to shoulder height.
Gorgon grinned, his sidearm still holstered, "That's a good girl. Look, we don't really give a shit about you two. We just want to talk about that ice ***** y'all have callin' the shots. Think we can do that?"
They hadn't found Sprout before her, this was good, this made things a lot less complicated.
"Oh? What did you want to know?" Lilith asked, her cigarette held in the corner of her smirk.
"Why don't come with me where we can discuss this in private. We don't want to make a scene here, do we?"
Lilith closed her eyes for a moment, shaking her head as a chuckle escaped her lips. "Tell me, how much are they willing to pay for me these days?"
The hulking man's lips curled into a cruel grin, "What do I look like, a buyer's guide for whores?!" He laughed. "I know what I'd pay for that ass, personally. But hey, we can discuss that later." Signaling her forward, his smile didn't waiver. "Come on out, now."
Lilith narrowed her eyes, still smirking, she slowly moved her right hand to her cigarette, burning it to the filter, she removed it from her lips, flicking it away. "Is it the same amount you paid for that ridiculous haircut?" Smoke crawling from her mouth as she spoke the words
"You wound me, ma'am." He unhooked the grip strap with his thumb. He was ready to draw. "Now be a good girl. I won't repeat myself. Keep your hands above your head and step forward. Now."
She glanced at Tobin. Lilith's gut told her he wasn't involved, and there was no way she was going to let this guy get killed because of her. Unfortunately for him, she really didn't feel like getting caught today. Moving her head slowly to the side, she cracked her neck. "Do you know why they call me Casino?"
Gorgon's finger slid across the grip and onto the trigger, "Let me guess, you're---"
Lilith's face hardened as she drew her revolver firing a shot, without waiting to confirm the hit, she quickly grabbed Tobin by the scruff of his shirt, pulling him towards her as she kicked over the thankfully metal table, both of them taking cover behind it. Glancing to her side, she kept an eye on their flanks as bullets sailed past them and into the walls of the cafe. "Bastards, I hadn't even finished my tea." She quipped, a grin on her face.
Landon listened to the distant banter as he moved up to the cafe's backdoor. Sliding out a pin and flat metal rod from a pocket, he picked the lock with the ease of long practice. The door clicked faintly and fell ajar, and Landon moved through silently. Inside, he could hear clearly now.
"Bastards, I hadn't even finished my tea."
Ghosting around the corner, he cocked his assault rifle, aiming it between the girl and the midget crouched behind the tipped over table, ready to mow them down with a spread of fire.
"Luck's a fickle mistress. Don't go doing something dumb, now. Just how long do you think the kid's gonna last if I perforate the fuck outta you? How do you think he's gonna hold up?"
========================================
"Frostfall ain't nothing but a pawn on the board for Basilio. Don't think for a second he gives a damn about what happens to us."
Bryan shrugged. "Never said he did, did I? Don't change what the plan is. Shit like this is all about outward image, y'know. He's a man what'll pacify resistance one way or another."
Viola and Hannibal were coming up behind Sprout and Maria as they were reaching the marketplace, the crowd was getting sparser as they drew near, with the epicenter being a building one or two blocks away from their current position. This wasn't looking good, not one bit; the chances of a quiet chat were getting slimmer by the second.
As they reached an entrance to the marketplace, Viola unholstered her rifle and looked through the scope; she could make out that a group of well armed men had surrounded what appeared to be a small cafe, there was one that was more noticeable than the others. He was rather broad in the shoulders and his hair was a bright red mohawk, Viola recognised him as another of the Hunters Dio hired three days prior, more importantly though, she had heard of him before that.
Gorgon. Quite the reputable bounty hunter from what she remembered, been going on for roughly as long as Viola has; unlikely many Bounty Hunters who often worked alone, Gorgon was one of those who preferred working as part of a group as was evident here and now. From her current position she could count Gorgon and six, possibly seven other mercenaries at the cafe's front.
She could see that Gorgon was engaging in conversation with Lilith, though that all came to a close when the Bandit drew a gun and fired at him. What followed was Lilith grabbing someone and taking cover behind a metal table as the bullets came a flying.
"Crap! This isn't good." Viola said to herself as she prepared to fire her rifle, taking a moment to talk to Hannibal.
"You might want to keep your head down or find cover for this next bit Hannibal. Things are about to get messy." She said to him before looking through her scope and lining up her sights with the shoulder of one of the mercs. Taking a deep breath to steady her aim, she pulled the trigger.
She was crying again. She'd been doing that more and more recently. Not loud weepy crying, the quivering lip and welling tears kind. The more she tried to hold it back the more obvious it got. Her tears always gott heir way in the end. She was even biting the back of her bottom lip, trying to keep it in line.
Please, you don't need to do this...
She even tried to keep it quiet. So it always just on the edge of his hearing. It was so passive aggressive. Couldn't she just grow up and stop trying to lash out at people every time she didn't get her own way. she was so immature sometimes.
You don't want to do this! Don't let them tell you what to do! Please! Please!
Wait that wasn't her crying. That was a male voice. This wasn't right. She was here, sat in the window seat like she always was trying not to look at anything. This was what she always did when she was upset. why was he here if it wasn't for her.
"I'd hoped so much you wouldn't go down to the tunnels tonight." And there it was, here comes the guilt trip.
"I did it for us. It was the right thing."
"Right for who?"
"You know how things work! I didn't have any choice... it had to be done."
Don't let it end like this, please, I'm so sorry. I'll go, I'll disappear, you'll never see me again!
God, he would just NOT stop crying. Show some goddamn pride. "I shouldn't even be here, I had plans tonight." And he wasn't wearing anything with a hood or shit. "Can't even feel my ears." No doubt they were redder than his scarf by now. "Bet I look like a right wanker." Wait that wasn't right. What was a wanker, when had he even heard that word?
Would he just stop crying! maybe if he pistol whipped him. He was holding a pistol now. The wet thud and sobbing echoed through the tunnels. He was in the tunnels now... yeah of course he was. Where else would he be? Any way it had to be done.
"Imagine a world where it didn't have to be though." Said the old man. He was so annoyingly calm.
"SHUT UP! This is your fault too! You didn't want this you should have taken the fucking shot when you had the chance!"
The doors were opening now, he had to put his mask on. Didn't want to be tasting ash all night. Of course he was up to his knees in water by now. Wait... water... was that right? Yes, of course it was. Everything was right, it had to be. He grabbed the traitor by the scruff of her neck and pulled her to her feet. Had they always been a woman? They must have been. Yes, Elizabeth had this coming. It was what had to be done.
"Please, father, please don't do this." She wept.
"We have to get out of here!" He yelled. There were guns everywhere but the gates were locked. He could shoot them down, break them somehow. But they were everywhere, surrounding them. Figures in red. Their eyes were full of cold, dead, fire and their hands full of knives. And he was there, silver rod in hand with his empty eyes looking through them.
"You belong here, Florian. This is your home." He was pulling Florian back by his bloody red leash as Elizabeth fell through the gates that he couldn't follow through. The light scorched his eyes away but there wasn't any darkness. He tried to scream out just before the leash crushed his throat, pulling him back like a dog.
***
Florian's head jerked back as the crawler sped along its bumpy path. His eyes weakly beginning to shake themselves open just a sliver.
Cranston didn't like the looks of the situation one bit, though you'd never know by the look on his face. As Lilith and the bounty hunter traded quips he continued sipping his drink. Lilith had failed to notice his presence when she arrived. A strategically placed newspaper worked wonders when hiding in plain sight.
He lowered the newspaper ever so slightly as to get a glimpse of the confrontation. Just then, Lilith fired her weapon and dove behind a table with her dwarf friend in tow. Sitting in the back corner of the cafe, none of the panicking bystanders noticed him draw his pistol as he remained seated. Before he made a move, however, the backdoor to the cafe swung open, right beside him.
Who's this, now?
"Luck's a fickle mistress. Don't go doing something dumb, now. Just how long do you think the kid's gonna last if I perforate the fuck outta you? How do you think he's gonna hold up?"
Looking over at the cashier who'd been frozen in place since the shooting started, Cranston shook the newspaper as to get her attention. Remaining as stiff as a board, the woman's eyes found his. Nodding towards the door that was blocking his view, Cranston pointed the pistol towards it with one hand. Raising his eyebrows, he silently asked her if he was on the mark. Hesitating but for a moment, the woman nodded.
Cranston fired two shots through the door catching the man on the other side in the shoulder and forearm. After hearing him curse and stagger back into the alley, Cranston added, "She's fickle indeed." Springing to his feet, Cranston shouted. "I've got our flank."
And with that he disappeared into the alley behind the cafe.
Lilith had managed to graze his scalp before he scrambled to cover against the cafe's front entrance. Blood trickling across his furrow brow, he turned his head towards his men and shouted, "LIGHT EM' UP!" Before he too could join the fray, however, he saw one of his men get blinded-sided by a bullet to the temple. "FUCK!" He pointed to three of his men. "YOU, COVER THE NORTH SIDE OF THE STREET!"
The trio nodded and ran past the cafe, taking positions on the south-side of the buildings, "I see her!" One barked as the three returned fire against Viola.
Confident his men had his flank, Gorgon spun around the pillar he'd been using as cover and fired all six shots into the table the pair hid behind. The table may have been durable, but his revolver packed a helluva punch. Perhaps one would find its mark.
Sprout caught the majority of the conversation between the two and had to keep himself from interjecting after the bounty hunter implied Lilith was a whore. Trembling slightly, Sprout looked to Maria, "I don' know what's 'bout ta' go down, but I need ya' to get ta' safety." Reaching into the back of his shirt, he produced a snubnose revolver from his waistband. "I reckon ya' know how ta' fire---"
Sprout's words were drowned out by a tidal wave of gunfire, "I gotta go!" He shouted as he ran past her, down the alley and around the bend towards the cafe, pistol at the ready. He could hear them further down, just as he thought. They had the cafe surrounded. Running full tilt now, Sprout wasn't prepared for what he'd find upon turning the next corner. Two men stood against an alleyway entrance to the cafe, preparing to blindside Lilith.
The two men's eyes fell on him as he stopped dead in his tracks no more than a couple meters away. He was out in the open. Exposed. And Lilith... Lilith would die if he didn't act. The two men hesitated when they took in his appearance. He was just a kid. A kid with a gun. Sprout didn't have time to think. He didn't have time to reflect. He had a small window to act.
It was do or die.
Within the two seconds the men had hesitated, Sprout fired four shots, catching them both in the chest twice. The way they slammed against the wall and crumpled to the ground was... surreal.
Lily.
Sprout banished his doubts and threw himself against the door-frame. Looking in, he spotted Lilith and Tobin several meters away, "LILY! OVER HERE! THIS WAY'S CLEAR!"
Moving back up the alley, Landon cursed under his breath. His arm was bleeding thickly and pulsed in pain. He'd have to tend to it later, but for now he needed to make himself useful. The fuck had happened? There were only supposed to be two of them, and someone should have clocked the kid if he'd been there. Either his squad mates were blind, or they'd had bad intel.
Backing up around the corner, he crouched, setting his wounded left arm across one knee and crooking the assault rifle over it. Nice and steady. The moment the others pressed them out of the cafe, they'd be in his line of fire and he could take them out.
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