Why the hell could Cameron never get enough sleep?
It seemed as though he was always tired nowadays. Being held prisoner by criminals and being in a constant state of high stress and life-threatening scenarios probably had something to do with it. Every time he went to sleep he kept a knife under his pillow, and half expected not to wake up each and every time. The Talons weren’t apparently ones to let a grudge go, and he had pretty stupidly killed their leader’s son. He wouldn’t be surprised if they were plotting to kill him where he stood. Or currently, was lying down. He still hadn’t gotten out of bed yet.
As he rose to his feet he took the knife out from under his pillow. He flipped it in the air a couple of times in a rather hypnotic manner as he moved and got ready. On the third flip he dropped it, and cursed as he quickly drew his foot out of the way before he lost a toe or two. The price he paid whenever he wanted to do anything remotely cool with his weapons. Why the hell did they have to be so dangerous?
As he exit his room he heard loud talking from downstairs. The unmistakable booming voice of his new partner could probably be heard a mile away. The man had a bizarre talent for being extremely loud without seemingly raising his voice. As Cameron got downstairs his eyes widened as he observed Malcolm sitting with an automatic rifle in his lap, going through the steps of how to arm it to a few very small children who sat in awe while their rather deranged looking mother messed around in the shotgun aisle.
“So you see,” Malcolm said, looking down at the two children at his feet looking on in complete awe, “you hold it like this so the recoil doesn’t blast your-”
“Ahem.” Cameron folded his arms and Malcolm looked up, face shifting into his usual grin.
“Cameron!” Malcolm said, delighted. “You’re just in time! I’m about to show these young fighters how to load this weapon! Isn’t that cool?”
“No. No it’s not. Get that thing out of here, that’s nothing children should be around!” Cameron scowled.
Malcolm laughed as the two kids looked up at the smaller, angry man staring at the big, nice man. They started whispering and giggling, aka the most surefire way to piss an adult off without inciting conflict. Malcolm set the gun down and rose to his feet, reminding Cameron just how much taller and bigger he was. “Cameron, you haven’t been around here long. Few days at the most, I’d say. Kids around here, they learn how to do this stuff in order to survive.”
“My mom says that she wants us to learn how to do it in case dad ever comes home and tries to beat her with a baseball bat again,” the little girl at Malcolm’s feet said, and suddenly both men looked at her in confusion. The girl looked around at the two of them, looking confused. “What?”
“Fucking shit,” Cameron groaned, placing a hand to his forehead.
“Language,” Malcolm warned.
“Oh that’s rich, coming from the guy literally showing these kids how to LOAD GUNS!”
Their argument was interrupted by the smash of a gong. Cameron and Malcolm jumped in fright and turned to see a gong on one of the shelves, and a mallet hovering in midair. The two kids laughed at this.
“Malc, Cameron?” Lee Adams stood before them, arms folded and gloves hovering behind her head with a towel, drying her hair. “The hell’s going on here?”
“Your friend here is trying to train a generation of murderers!” Cameron shouted furiously, pointing at the gun. The kids’ mother peered frantically from behind Lee, motioning for her kids to join her. The three left without saying anything.
Lee laughed. “Trying to train a generation of murderers? That’s what they said when we invented video games! Or when Southerners brought us jazz music and raves! What’s a little gun fondling between friends, amirite?”
“What the fuck is wrong with you people.” Cameron slumped. It wasn’t even a question anymore, it was just a resignation for the inevitable.
Malcolm clapped him on the back. “Doesn’t matter what’s wrong with us. This is probably the safest place in the whole city.”
“This...entire room is filled with guns,” Cameron pointed out, as he moved over to get breakfast, throwing a broken revolver out of his chair so he could sit down.
“You got something against guns?” Lee asked. “I understand. Kinda phallic, don’t ya think? I mean knives aren’t much better on that front but push comes to shove you can still jam both up your-”
“FUCKING SHIT!”
“You say that a lot,” Malcolm pointed out with a chuckle as he started to eat his cereal. “I’ve noticed that.”
“Congrats, you noticed something, good for you.” Cameron pouted as he ate.
Lee yawned. “Oh by the way I started advertising you guys. Figured you’d actually be needing a job soon.”
“Aw, thanks!” Malcolm smiled. “That’s really thoughtful of you.”
“Wait, hold up. Did you use our NAMES?” Cameron asked.
Lee shrugged. “Well, yes.”
“LEE-”
“Root Beer Float.”
“-I’M WANTED BY THE TALONS FOR KILLING THEIR LEADER’S SON WHAT THE FUCK MADE YOU THINK THIS WAS A GOOD-”
The door to the shop opened and the sound of jangling bells alerted them to the presence of a customer. Cameron jumped slightly, and Malcolm allowed himself a smirk.
“I got it,” Lee said, jumping to her feet and strutting to the counter. Cameron glanced over his shoulder anxiously into the other room. A young man stood before them and suddenly Cameron’s heartbeat increased.
The young man had shaggy black hair and narrow eyes, and wore street clothes. Most disturbingly, there was what appeared to be blood dripping from his mouth, and a few fresh bruises on his face. His hands remained in his pockets.
“Hello good sir!” Lee said loudly, jumping onto the counter. “How may I help you?”
“Lookin’ for a guy named Cameron Lark, if you can lemme know where he is,” the young man said.
“Who’s asking?” Lee said suspiciously. “Who do you work for?”
The young man smirked, and something about it seemed very punchable. “Name’s Adrian. I represent Lace Jensen, leader of Green Sky.”
Lee seemed to consider it a moment, before speaking in a low, deadly voice. “Cameron. Malcolm. You can come out.”
Reluctantly, the two men entered the room, Malcolm having to duck down to get his entire body through. Adrian met Cameron’s eyes and smiled.
“The hell do you want?” Cameron asked.
Adrian’s gaze shifted as he unsheathed a bloodied knife, and suddenly before anyone could react at least six different guns in the room flew up into the air and armed themselves, all pointing at Adrian.
“Whoa whoa whoa!” Adrian said, holding out his hands. “Didn’t mean to...uh...yeah I can see how that could be uh...misinterpreted.” He started picking at a scab on his arm with the knife. “Sorry, just...helps me think.”
“You’re the Dog, aren’t you?” Lee asked. “I’ve heard of you.”
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“Don’t call me that,” Adrian snarled. “I ain’t nobody’s dog. Anyways we got your invitation. Heard what you did to Grant Talon’s boy. Caught him off guard.” He grinned like a shark, and tapped the blood on the knife. “At least some of this blood is Talon men from a skirmish earlier today. D’you know how much time it takes to get blood out from under your fingernails? It ain’t fun.”
“Cut to the chase, or there’ll be a knife in you,” Cameron growled.
“I just can’t take that seriously!” Lee stage whispered. “Sticking a knife in someone seems too much like-”
“Ooh, I’m shaking,” Adrian said, miming a panicked stance and a quivering lip. “Oh well, I’ll cut to the chase.” He giggled slightly, swinging his blade. “Get it. Cut to the chase?”
“Yes yes, you’re very witty,” Malcolm sighed. “Move along.”
“Sorry. Anyways, you know anything about the Crested?”
“Of course,” Malcolm said. “Fuckers have paramilitary organization. Think they’re some kinda special ops force when they’re actually a gang. Brutal fuckers.”
Adrian nodded. “Well, m’boss Lace and the Crested boss, Harrison Root, are gonna be making an alliance. We need someone to make sure things don’t get ugly.”
“Why should we help you?” Cameron said. “You know we’re against gangs, right?”
“Lace thinks you’d be better as a friend than as an enemy,” Adrian replied. “Can’t say I see anything special about you two but hey I don’t question her.”
“Really is a Dog,” Cameron muttered, only to have a knife fly past his face and imbed itself in the wall behind him.
“DON’T call me that,” Adrian snarled, before calming down. “Uh...sorry. If it’s any consolation if I wanted you dead that knife would be sticking out of your pretty little head.”
“It’s not,” Cameron said, seeming more than a little freaked out.
“You’ll be paid handsomely for the job,” Adrian said. “And you’ll be in the good books of two gangs.”
“Wait, just one thing.” Malcolm stepped forward. “I want to make sure you haven’t had any dealings with Quinn Hayes.”
“Malcolm, if they have do you really think they’d tell you-” Cameron began.
“Hayes?” Adrian scrunched his eyebrows a bit. “I know of him. Hard to find someone who doesn’t. But he vanished a while back. Lace hasn’t mentioned him.”
“Alright,” Malcolm said. “Cameron?”
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“Fine,” Cameron spat out. “If we’re gonna die a stupid and pointless death it might as well be with some coin in our pocket.”
“Thanks a lot,” Adrian said sincerely, and started to walk away. “You’ll start in about four hours. Take the time you need to prepare, then I’ll take you to Lace. Got it?”
“Got it,” Malcolm said.
Cameron looked back and then back at Adrian. “Wait!”
“Huh?”
Cameron pulled the bloody knife out of the wall and extended it to Adrian. “You forgot this.”
“Oh. Uh.” Adrian looked embarrassed as he took the weapon. “Thanks. I’ll...be going now.”
And with that, the decidedly strange young man exit the building.
It was silent for a moment before Lee spoke up. “Well I think you’d make a cute couple.”
“LEE!”
“What? You both like sticking suspiciously phallic objects where they don’t belong! Match made in heaven!”
As Cameron fumed, Malcolm placed a hand on his shoulder. “C’mon, Cameron. We have a negotiation to plan for. And if I know these guys there’ll be blood involved.”
“There already is,” Cameron pointed out, gesturing to his hands from where Adrian’s bloody knife had wiped off on him.
Not having a retort for that, Malcolm carried on and the two prepared to head to what might be the least peaceful negotiation of all time.
Considering their last encounter with a gang ended with them in a jail cell, albeit briefly, both Cameron and Malcolm remained on their guard as the boy Adrian led them into an alleyway that would most definitely not end with them stabbed to death. Cameron and Malcolm remained behind as Adrian led the way, keeping watch to ensure that they weren’t being led into a trap.
“What do you know about Green Sky?” Cameron asked Malcolm quietly.
“That they’re brutal,” Malcolm grunted. “But reasonable. Think their leader Lace doesn’t want to be a gang leader forever.”
“Few do, it’s not like that’s a position that you hold for very long.”
Malcolm shrugged. “She’s held Green Sky for six years.”
“That long?” Cameron asked, somewhat shocked. “She must be good.”
“The best,” Adrian replied loudly from in front of them, having stopped in his tracks, standing before a dingy door in the side of the wall. Adrian knocked, waving and grinning with a knife in his hand. The door opened.
“Follow me,” Adrian said, his unnerving grin still set on his face.
“Through the dingy door in an alleyway no one goes down,” Cameron replied. “This really makes me want to trust you, you know that?”
“You’re too kind.”
The three men entered and the two mercenaries were shocked as the frankly disgusting conditions were slowly replaced by rather nice walls and a moderately fancy rug on the floor. The lights were dim but warm, and as they moved through they couldn’t help but feel like this Lace woman seemed to have higher aspirations than being a gang leader-or at least wanted a good first impression.
“She’ll see you now,” Adrian said, opening a door. Cameron and Malcolm walked inside to find a tall, slender red-haired woman sitting comfortably in a soft green chair. Adrian stepped off to the side and into the shadows as Cameron and Malcolm shuffled around anxiously as the woman gazed calmly at them.
“This all seems pretty regal,” Cameron commented, trying to break the silence and instantly regretting it as everyone else in the room looked at him. “I...I mean, this kinda reminds me of visiting a queen.” Realizing what he said sounded like idle flattery, he continued to try to explain himself as Lace cocked an eyebrow. “I mean, this whole setup...nice chair looks like a throne and all, dunno what-”
Malcolm elbowed him to be silent and Cameron shut up. Adrian reappeared again behind Lace’s chair and she smiled slightly, shifting before standing up and moving towards them.
“Well, I’m in a position of authority,” she said, voice suspiciously calm and tranquil as she walked towards them. “I figured I should...seem as such.” She glanced over the two mercenaries keenly, seemingly examining their worth. “How the fuck are you so tall, and you so short?” she asked, pointing at Malcolm, then Cameron respectively. “How’d that work?”
“Don’t call me short-” Cameron began.
“We met just a couple days ago,” Malcolm said. “We’re partners.”
“Oh?”
“As mercenaries,” Cameron added irritably, as Lace walked towards the left while snickering. “This’ll be our first job. So why us?”
“I already talked about that,” Adrian said from behind Lace’s chair, seemingly not even paying attention with his eyes solely on the knife he was flipping over and over again and catching in his palm. Internally, Cameron felt a twinge of jealousy that the boy was able to do that and not him.
“You both were chosen because of your allegiances,” Lace said authoritatively as she poured herself something to drink, pointedly not offering either of them one. “Grant Talon is your enemy. He might be arrogant and stupid, but he’s still a threat, and I prefer to have people on my side.”
“Which is why you’re allying with the Crested?” Cameron asked.
Lace nodded, sitting back down in her chair and taking a swig of who knows what. “Precisely. My operation needs the firearms, and Harrison Root is the best provider in the City. Plus, he’s smarter than Talon or the Cooledges.”
As Malcolm snickered, Cameron furrowed his eyes in confusion. “The COoledges?”
“Leader of the Red Ants,” Malcolm said. “They’re twins. Travis and Taylor. Both complete assholes.”
“And remarkably unintelligent,” Lace said, smirking confidently. “Once Harrison and I have our arrangement, we’ll easily wipe out the Talons and the Red Ants.”
“I’ll be glad when I never have to hear the words ‘Red Ants’ used in a serious context again,” Cameron said with a smirk. Lace let out a genuine laugh at this.
“You noticed it too?” Lace grinned. “It’s ridiculous.”
“No more ridiculous than Green Sky or the Crested,” Malcolm said simply. Adrian stopped flipping his knife, his eyes finding Malcolm and scanning him over as if wondering if he could take out one of his eyes with one throw.
“Speaking of,” Cameron yawned. “Why should we trust you? After you wrestle control from the other two gangs, what then? Why should we help you?”
“You think I like this?” Lace gestured around to her abode. “Gang wars are petty things but it’s the only place I’ve been able to gain a foothold. Given time I won’t need to fight this bloody and pointless conflict, but I still need to do so anyway.”
“And your ultimate goal?” Cameron asked.
A dangerous glint entered Lace’s eye. “I think I’d like to keep a few secrets for myself, thank you. Perhaps we should just discuss the meet.”
“Maybe for the best,” Malcolm said, seeming relieved that the conversation was taking a turn away from dangerous territory.
“Follow me,” Lace said, gesturing as she walked into a separate room. Cameron and Malcolm glanced at each other and followed, Adrian bringing up the rear behind them. The room they’d entered was filled with what appeared to be various notes, stratagems, and theoretical situations, all with extensive revisions and scribble marks.
“When you were a teenager, did you do this for everything?” Cameron said, mystified as he observed a chart thumbtacked to the wall detailing a plan for if the Eastern peoples ever decided to attack the city. “Like, except with boys or something?”
Adrian growled and was about to respond but Lace laughed, interrupting him as she stepped dangerously close to Cameron, looking down at him with contempt. “When I turned 16, I created charts about how I planned to kill everyone who’d ever known me.” She smiled sweetly and caressed his cheek, sending shivers down his spine. “And I did.”
Lace’s smile faded as she walked away, Cameron reeling as if she’d slapped him. Malcolm leaned over to him.
“You’d better be careful,” Malcolm muttered as Lace took a sheet of paper from the table and setting it down. “She’d kill you without a second thought. Or worse.”
“What’s worse?” Cameron asked.
“From what I’ve heard,” Malcolm said, acutely aware of Adrian’s eyes on them. “If you disrespect her in any way, especially...if it’s sexual, she’ll make an example out of you.”
“Meaning?”
Adrian laughed, interrupting as he overheard the conversation. He walked towards them, staring intently at Cameron. “Your friend is glossing it over. Let’s just say m’boss repays horny men by giving them what they want…” A dangerous and somewhat insane glint passed his eye. “Until they do not want it anymore. Trust me on that.” Adrian smiled creepily as he tapped his knife significantly, before making a cutting motion and an appropriate noise near his crotch. He giggled inappropriately but stopped when Lace snapped her fingers, gesturing for everyone to come over.
“That’s enough about my private affairs, Adrian,” Lace snapped, and Adrian’s face fell. “You know better than that.”
“I’d just like you to know that I have no interest,” Cameron said quickly, his voice squeaking slightly as he talked. Malcolm facepalmed at this.
“Enough!” Lace snapped, and moved what appeared to be blueprints of a building over so that the others can see. “This is the building we’re meeting in. It’s in the north part of the city.”
“An old fitness facility?” Malcolm asked, scrunching his eyes slightly. “Why there?”
“It’s abandoned, it has a multitude of exits, and very few non-exposed spots,” Lace explained. “Most importantly, it’s neutral ground. It’s technically controlled by the government and is an area no gang has claimed yet.”
“And you’re sure that the government won’t come running when they hear about this?” Cameron asked. “After we escaped the Talons I woke up and was interrogated by a government lady. Wasn’t fun.”
“The government is busy with the Red Ants,” Lace said confidently. “As long as things stay quiet they’ll have no idea. You two will be guarding the exits, checking for snipers and anything suspicious.”
“Do the Crested know about us?” Malcolm asked.
“They agreed that a third party was necessary,” Lace said vaguely. “It’ll be fine.”
Somehow Cameron doubted that but figured that it didn’t matter. Either they’d gain two new friends or they’d kill a lot of people before getting the hell out of there. No way he’d die.
“Alright,” Cameron said, clasping his hands together. “Will that be all?”
“Yes,” Lace replied.
“Yepperoni,” Adrian echoed.
Cameron smirked, Malcolm glancing at him in confusion. “Okay then. Shall we get started?”
Harrison Root had a reputation.
Granted, it was the reputation of a gun-obsessed brute and a murderous psychopath who cared nothing for the lives of others, but it was a reputation nonetheless and he would continue to allow rumors to spread as much as they could. The bigger the rumor, the more he could instill fear, and the more he could instill fear, the more he could get people to do what he wanted them to. It was win/win.
It was also why he rarely would show his face in person, instead leaving most of his dealings to his mouthpiece, Winston, a small Eastern man with a talent for voices and getting people to do what they were supposed to. It was rather uncanny. The man was currently overseeing the shipments of weapons being brought in for the trade.
Root was not particularly large, although well-muscled. Had a buzz cut, stiff clothes, exposed skin, the like. The only thing particularly noticeable about him was his unsettlingly blue eyes that were said to stare into one’s soul and tear it out.
As it stood, it was important for him to attend this meeting himself. A show of courtesy to Lace Jensen, also known as the only other person playing the game that Root could bring himself to even remotely respect. Hell, it was his respect that was keeping him from just gunning down all of them once they arrived at the forsaken place that had once been a fitness facility. His patience was wearing thin, though.
“What’s taking them so long?”
Root looked up from where he was sharpening his knife to see Winston standing before him, having adopted a rugged, basic style of talking to clearly communicate with his boss.
“They’re testing us,” Root said softly, rising to his feet and training his blue eyes on Winston. “Lace is not the type of person to be late, unless she wants to be.”
“Catalina is calling for blood,” Winston said, taking his boss’s side as the two started walking through, observing their various underlings shifting the crates around.
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“I’d expect nothing less,” ROot replied, and almost cracked a smile. But not quite. “She’d get along well with Lace’s dog.”
“He’d end up sticking a knife in her either way,” Winston joked, although his face didn’t betray the joke. “He’s more dangerous because he’s unpredictable.”
“You’re unpredictable,” Root replied, smirking slightly. Winston laughed lightly at this.
“Yeah, so I’m told-”
The two were interrupted by the sound of something crashing, and yelling from two of the men. A punch from one to the other turned into a full out brawl. Everyone’s eyes were drawn to the spectacle as the two men beat each other to a bloody pulp right in the middle of the operation.
“Winston,” Root said softly, as if feeling that raising his voice would dignify the incident too much.
The small man nodded and inhaled deeply, before letting out a shriek that pierced the air and caused everyone in the room to cover their ears. The two fighting men screamed in pain as they covered their ears, their fight forgotten. Root remained unaffected as he calmly strode towards the two before strangling the one closer to him before slamming him into the other, sending both to the ground.
It was dead silent as the two men coughed from on the ground.
“What is the meaning of this?” ROot said, still choosing to keep his voice barely above a whisper. One of the men met his eyes and shivered as he saw the deadness in them, before looking away.
“Ralph called my son a slut,” one of the men growled, getting back to his feet and staring defiantly at Root. “Said he’d go kill my boy just for being with a Southern girl.”
“I couldn’t care less about insincere threats that one of my men makes to the other,” Root replied coldly. “Or what kind of girls your boy is fucking.”
Ralph cowered on the ground, not daring to look up. “I...I think he broke my arm...think he broke my arm…”
“Colton.” Root’s eyes went to the defiant man, who started to show a bit of fear. “I cannot afford for there to be discord today. Today is a very important day.”
Colton’s eyes widened as Root reached down into his pocket. “Sir, I’m sorry, please, don’t-”
“Injuring one of my men over a personal matter on a very important day is unprofessional,” Root said, remaining impassive as Colton dropped to his knees, begging for his life. “I can’t deal with that right now.”
“No, DON’T-” Colton pleaded. Root raised the pistol and fired. The shot hit him directly in his forehead, sending him splattering to the ground.
Slowly, Ralph stopped shivering, seeing his acquaintance’s body on the ground. Slowly, he turned to face Root and rose to his knees.
“Please, sir, I’m begging you,” Ralph said. “I don’t mean-”
“Sowing discord through childish threats will not be tolerated either,” Root snapped, making his contempt clear without raising his voice. He fired several times, each time hitting their mark and sending Ralph splattering to the ground, coughing weakly.
Root walked slowly over to Ralph and leaned down over him as he faded out. “And just so we’re clear, I will not tolerate being an asshole. So maybe you should think next time before you threaten the life of a man’s son when this organization accepts all walks of life, including yours. Something to mull over, I’d say.” Root rose back to his feet as Ralph died.
“Get their bodies out of here,” he said dully. Winston nodded and snapped his fingers, and on cue two
“Sir.” A female voice rang out, and Root turned to see Catalina, a small dark-skinned woman with an unsettling smile on her face, standing before him.
“Yes?”
“They’re, uh...they’re here.”
The door opened and Root’s face shifted to embarrassment as Lace Jensen walked through with a look of mild distaste on her face as she observed the bleeding bodies on the ground. Following her was the renowned Adrian Pasdar, whose face lit up as he saw the bodies on the ground. Following her were a number of underlings, and two men in mercenary garb that Root didn’t know but appeared competent enough.
“I see you’ve been busy,” Lace said, barely restraining a note of amusement.
“So have you, apparently,” Catalina sneered, glaring directly at Lace as she moved towards her slightly. “I was waiting out there for hours, the hell’s your deal?”
“M’boss doesn’t have to answer to a worm like you,” Adrian hissed at Catalina, stepping towards her to meet her challenge.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” Catalina asked, tilting her head. “I couldn’t hear you over the smell of your mangy mutt breath.”
“Enough!” Winston’s voice reverberated across the room, and everyone turned to look at Root and Winston, who both stood over in the middle of their operation.
Winston cleared his throat. “This meeting is in peace,” he said. “Fighting will not be tolerated, as evidenced by the two fools dead on the floor over there.” He gestured to the bodies on the ground, smirking, and it might have been a trick of the light but one of his eyes seemed to change color.
Root stepped forward, nodding respectfully to Lace. “Thank you for coming, and I apologize for the state of things,” he said.
“It’s perfectly alright,” Lace said in a mellow tone. “These things happen.”
Root glanced over at the two men dressed as mercenaries. “And these two?”
“A third party,” Lace replied coolly. “Mercenaries to ensure that the meeting will be in peace.”
The big, dark-skinned one grinned and stepped forward, extending his hand for Root to shake. “Malcolm Truman, at your service.”
Root stared blankly at the man’s hand before leaving it there. Malcolm awkwardly put his hand back down. The small one was glaring at Root now. He met the gaze evenly as he slowly sat down on the ground.
Winston cleared his throat loudly, and all eyes turned to him. “Sir, may I state my opinions on this?” he asked.
“Of course,” Root replied, as if it should be obvious.
Winston directed his eyes to Lace as Catalina paced around angrily in the background.
“This is clearly bullshit,” Winston said bluntly.
“Excuse me?” Adrian snarled, only for Lace to extend a hand before he could step forward.
“I apologize for whatever I may have done to make you think that,” Lace said coolly, glancing over at the small man before her. “I hired them to ensure that this meeting would go over peacefully.”
“You did it to give yourself an edge,” Winston snapped. “We have informants everywhere, and I never forget a face. This one is Cameron Lark,” he said, gesturing to the small man. Root sat down, gazing placidly at the scene before him. “He killed Grant Talon’s son and escaped his jail cell along with this one right here.”
“And you know this hoW?” Cameron responded, placing a hand inside his pocket. “Lately it’s seemed like I can’t walk three feet without someone accusing me of something. Hell, how do you even know what I look like?”
“Any organization requires at least one ear to the ground at all times,” Root said in his usual monotone voice, as he continued to stare blankly at his possible enemies. “Winston is mine.”
“You understand how this looks, right?” Winston asked, looking from Cameron, to Malcolm, to Lace, to Adrian. “You bring two recent celebrities in the gang world, one famous for killing the family member of another gang, and then claim you want peace?”
“I admit this might have been...poorly planned,” Lace said, hesitating slightly. “I just wanted insurance that-”
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Root said, before snapping his fingers irritably at Catalina to get her to stop pacing, and pointed roughly to by his side. The girl sulked as she stalked over behind her boss, who continued to sit on the ground, looking comfortable but ready to strike at a moment’s notice. “Thank you. Now could we please get to the point, whatever that might be?”
“Do we have a table?” Lace asked. “I’d like to sit.”
Root waved his hand lazily and several of his underlings ran off to presumably fetch a table. Cameron glanced Root over, trying to figure out what his deal was. The man was an odd one to say the least. Most people in positions of power relied on boasts and threats to get their way. At least from Cameron’s experience. This one was sitting on the ground, hadn’t raised his voice yet, yet his underlings obeyed his every word, albeit reluctantly.
As the awkwardness of the wait started to settle in, Malcolm walked over to Lace and grabbed her shoulder, eliciting a hiss from Adrian. Lace quieted him and looked up at Malcolm. “Yes? What is it?”
“Is that why you brought us here?” Malcolm asked, voice low and dangerous. “To make sure you have something that guy there doesn’t?”
Noticing Malcolm and Lace’s quiet conversation, Cameron moved over to talk to them, aware of Root’s gaze at his back and the Catalina girl continuing to pace back and forth while engaged in her own whispering argument with Winston. This was an incredibly awkward situation, filled with pauses and second guesses and intentions, and frenzied, whispered conversations on both sides. The table seemed to be taking forever to arrive.
Lace sighed. “If I wanted to have you as insurance wouldn’t I have told you that?”
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“Not if you wanted to duck responsibility,” Malcolm growled. “Do you want them dead?”
“I wouldn’t particularly mind it,” Lace replied evenly. “But it’s not the purpose of today’s meeting.”
“Then what is?”
Cameron was about to speak up when he heard a thud, and turned to see that a table had been procured, along with seven chairs. Root stood slowly and sat down at one end of the table, while Lace took the other end. Adrian took the spot next to her, then Cameron and Malcolm. Across from them were Winston and Catalina.
“This is going to bore the shit out of me,” Adrian groaned. Cameron nodded in agreement.
“The first order of business for this alliance is turf,” Root said, his monotone voice not helping anyone nearby to stay awake. “Ideally we should keep our respective areas but also be able to move about as we please.”
Cameron began to zone out as the two discussed terms for what seemed to be ages. He was acutely aware of Winston and Catalina’s dislike of him and Malcolm through several glares. He didn’t give a shit about any of this. He didn’t like Adrian, didn’t particularly care for Lace, and the Crested could all go fuck themselves. At least they’d been paid upfront. At least.
Cameron snapped back to attention when Lace smiled and slapped her hands on the table. “So it’s done, then?”
“So it is,” Root replied.
“Oh thank fuck,” Adrian groaned. “Thought that would never end. Might have to put my knife in something.”
Catalina snickered at this, and before Winston could stop her she uttered the sentence that suddenly made everyone in the room realize there was no way this would end without bloodshed. “Like your boss, you mutt?”
Suddenly Adrian hurled himself at Catalina, knife in hand as he wrestled her to the floor, knocking over both chairs as he did so. Lace, Winston, and Cameron all raised their voices in an attempt to get him to stop, while Root simply stared from the end of the table as Adrian pummeled the girl with his fists, before getting socked in the jaw himself.
“Get off her you shit!” Winston tried to push Adrian off of her. Adrian snarled and suddenly Winston looked down to see the knife in his gut.
It was at that point that Cameron and Malcolm realized that there was absolutely no way there was going to be peace at all.
Root calmly rose to his feet and fired several bullets at Lace, who promptly vanished into thin air.
Gunfire rang out across the facility as the Crested and Green Sky engaged each other. Adrian and a few other of his men injured Catalina before Winston intervened, unleashing another shriek. Cameron yelled and gestured for Malcolm to follow him. Neither could hear the other over the complete chaos unfolding, but Malcolm understood his meaning completely and the two ran out as everything went to hell.
“What the hell is happening?” Cameron panted. “Why the hell were we brought along? We just made things worse?”
“Lace did it on purpose,” Malcolm said, sounding pissed. “She didn’t want to start the conflict, so she brought us along to raise tensions.”
“Seems like that Catalina chick would have pissed Adrian off anyway, why would-”
Cameron recoiled as some invisible force slapped him. He stumbled slightly and his eyes widened as Lace materialized before him, looking furious.
“You can turn invisible?” Cameron winced. “Fucking hell-”
“You both need to get back in there NOW!” Lace said, furious. “I paid you and you will NOT back out on your deal unless you want your reputation to be that you back out of every job you take every time there’s a fight!”
“YOu’re not as smart as you think you are, lady,” Malcolm growled. “You said we’d keep the peace. We just sat there until it failed. You really thought this through, huh.”
“I’m more competent than this, I swear.” Lace seemed about ready to tear her hair out. “Sometimes I don’t know WHY I keep Adrian around-”
“Get down!” Cameron yelled, dropping for cover as Crested soldiers opened fire at the three of them. Malcolm and Lace hit the deck as well but before they could return fire they heard the sound of screaming. The three looked up to see Adrian slicing through the three men that had started firing at them, leaving a bloody mess behind him. Adrian waved and grinned as he walked over to them. Cameron, Malcolm, and Lace slowly rose to their feet.
“Adrian what the fuck?” Cameron snarled. “This was supposed to be peaceful, and now it’s a shitshow!”
“I’m sorry boss,” Adrian said, looking to Lace, slightly embarrassed. “Won’t happen again.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Lace said, before turning to Cameron and Malcolm. “You two have your contract, so help fight!”
“I don’t think so!” Malcolm yelled, clearly pissed. “Fighting off an entire gang? Not in our contract! You fucked it up, you have to deal with it yourself!”
“Boss gave you an order,” Adrian snapped. “You’d best follow it or you won’t get paid.”
“You already paid us,” Cameron said. “We just have to get the hell out of here.”
Lace sighed and nodded to Adrian. “I don’t have time for this. Kill them. Don’t fail.”
“Got it.”
The knife was out of Adrian’s hand and hurtling towards Cameron’s face. Using his super senses he ducked, as the knife embedded in the wall behind him. Lace vanished, and Malcolm barreled straight at Adrian, plowing him into the ground and knocking the air out of him.
Adrian groveled for his second knife as Malcolm held him in place by the chest Cameron walking up beside him.
“YOu wanna kill him?” Cameron asked.
“SUre, why not?” Malcolm said.
Adrian pressed all of his weight forward and bit Malcolm’s arm, sinking his teeth in before using the distraction to unsheathe his second knife and stab Malcolm in the chest, where it lay buried due to the sheer mass of the man.
Adrian rolled out and jumped backwards as Cameron used his own knives to engage, Adrian remaining frustratingly out of reach with every swing. As Cameron was about to close in Malcolm barreled past him, and Cameron had barely enough time to yell “Wait!” before a primal Malcolm shoved him away, sending Cameron flying into the air and crashing into the ground, sending a spasm of pain throughout his body and rendering him incapable of using his limbs for a few moments.
“You’re a big tough guy, huh?” Adrian grinned as he ducked and weaved from every one of Malcolm’s slow, clumsy blows. Malcolm let out a battle cry as he charged, only to crash straight into another wall as Adrian slipped to the ground. As he pushed himself off of the wall he realized he’d created a huge Malcolm-shaped dent in it.
Adrian snickered at this. “You...don’t really have any finesse, do ya?” Cameron slowly rose to his feet, feeling the scrapes and bruises across his body. He tapped Malcolm on the shoulder.
“Malcolm, we should just go!” Cameron pleaded. “He’s not worth it.”
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“Yeah, I don’t really WANT to kill you, but I will if the boss says so,” Adrian said, gripping yet another knife.
“Little prick needs to have his head bashed in,” Malcolm snarled, curling his fists for another punch as Cameron continued to try to talk him down.
“You have a fucking KNIFE IN YOUR GUT YOU IDIOT!” Cameron yelled. “How does a hospital sound?”
Malcolm ignored him and charged again, Adrian grinning and simply grabbing the knife as he passed before twisting it. Malcolm screamed in pain and fell to his knees. Adrian laughed, looking smug, only to receive an uppercut from Cameron, knocking him flat on his ass and dazing him. Cameron proceeded to deliver a smashing kick to the face, breaking his nose and bruising him all over.
Cameron stood there as he looked around at the scene. His new partner groaning on the ground with a knife in his stomach, and the boy who did it lying in a daze muttering something about switchblades.
Cameron grabbed Adrian by the collar, trying to shake him awake. “Hey, pal? Stab guy. Adrian. Can you understand me?”
“Wouldn’t have stabbed him if I’d known he was a fucking lunatic,” Adrian rambled, before Cameron slapped him.
“Can you understand me?” Cameron demanded.
“Yes! Yes,” Adrian seemed more conscious as he looked up at Cameron. “Boss won’t be happy with me…”
“Look, you idiot,” Cameron sneered, leaning down over the sociopath. “I’m leaving you alive as a message. Tell Lace that we don’t want to be her enemy, we just don’t want to be her weapon. We agreed to try to keep the peace, not to slaughter the other side just ‘cause we got paid by the other. So you tell her that the reason I spared you is because I’ve got a partner who was stupid enough to get a knife stuck in his gut and I REALLY don’t have enough time to be dealing with a stupid gang war, okay?”
“You got it, shithead,” Adrian said, still sounding a little out of it. “I’ll tell her.”
“Good.” Cameron rose back to his feet and moved over to Malcolm, who was groaning on the ground. “C’mon big guy. Let’s get you to a hospital.” Slowly, Cameron helped Malcolm to his feet, groaning all the way as he tried to move the huge mass that was his partner.
After a few minutes, Cameron and Malcolm were both standing, and Cameron removed the knife from his gut, causing Malcolm to wince and grind his teeth without crying out. With their arms around the other’s shoulder, the two walked down the street, the battle still raging in the building behind them, as they went to go find a hospital and hopefully never get involved with such a stupid set of people ever again.
Harrison Root didn’t even bother to announce his presence as he raised his gun and fired thrice, each one headshotting one of Lace’s soldiers and sending their bloodied bodies to the floor. He had no powers, not like Winston. Only his fighting ability and express knowledge of tactics. He glanced around the room. Catalina was bashing in the head of one of Lace’s men with an unrestrained fervor.
His eyes widened as he saw a faint shimmer approaching Winston, who was barking orders at some of their men. “WINSTON, GET DOWN!” he yelled, raising his voice for the first time in quite a while.
Before Winston could react, the shimmer materialized, and Lace Jensen held a knife to his throat, clutching him tightly. Root remained calm outwardly but was inwardly panicking.
“Root, order your men to stand down!” Lace yelled out.
Root reluctantly whistled and the fighting slowly died down, with the exception of Catalina, who was still bashing in the same man’s head. It was pretty clear the guy was dead, so one got the feeling that she was more taking out her frustrations in life rather than trying to actually be helpful. Root snapped his fingers and whistled again, and Catalina stopped, rather embarrassed at the fact that Root was treating her like a dog.
“Yes?” Root said, quiet per the norm, his voice huskier than normal from his brief time shouting. He didn’t usually have to raise his voice but Winston was a bit of a special case.
“This doesn’t have to get any bloodier,” Lace said calmly. “I fucked up this time, I admit it. So pull out now and I’ll let him go.”
“Don’t listen to her, she’ll kill him anyway,” Catalina growled.
:”Not everyone thinks the way you do, girl,” Lace snapped. “If you want to survive this line of work you can’t have a reputation of butchering your hostages and going back on deals. Unless you want to be out of resources and allies.”
Root sighed. “Let him go. Please. We’re done here. I will punish Catalina accordingly.”
“Adrian will be as well,” Lace promised. “It seems our children need a bit of discipline every now and then.”
Root nodded. “I apologize this didn’t work out and so quickly turned into violence.”
“Likewise.” Lace smiled slightly.
Root whistled again. “Move out, everyone. We’re done here.”
As Root’s men started to leave, Lace released Winston, who stumbled to the ground, getting up slowly and dusting himself off. Lace’s men packed up, and Lace herself vanished again. Root strode over to Winston, a clear look of concern on his face.
“She’s reasonable enough,” Winston said politely as Root helped him to his feet. The small man turned to where Catalina was scowling while kneeling over a bloodied mess where a man used to be. “Wish we had someone more like her.”
“Maybe,” Root said vaguely. “As for her…” He glanced over at Catalina. “She’ll need some form of punishment.”
“I’ll take charge of that, sir,” Winston said. “You should focus on our next move.”
“Yes, of course.” As Root glanced around at all the blood and bodies that now populated the old building, he couldn’t help but feel like he’d be better off having killed Catalina and Lace’s gang at the negotiation.
“First things first, I have to make a call.”
Cameron had no idea how he’d managed to convince the grumpy healer he’d went to at the hospital to heal Malcolm for half price but he wasn’t complaining, though the girl had bitched and moaned every step of the way. Sometimes it paid to know how to work people. Malcolm still wasn’t fully healed but he was good to go home, and the two walked through the front door of the shop.
The two stopped in their tracks as they entered the door to see the entire store in complete shambles. Broken glass littered the floor, the fan on the ceiling had been ripped out and was now embedded in the wall, and every single shelved gun was now spilled out everywhere. The two stood in shock as Lee waved from the counter, her legs up on the desk per the usual.
“What. The fuck. Happened here.” Cameron stood there motionless, incapable of really taking it all in.
“Oh hey guys,” Lee yawned. “How was the mission?”
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“Failed,” Malcolm said. “We still got paid, though. So it works.”
“What. The fuck. Happened here,” Cameron repeated, still stunned. Malcolm gently pushed him inside and the two walked over to Lee, who was humming.
“Oh, not much,” Lee said. “Just a fucking shootout between like five different customers that I defused singlehandedly like a badass. Wish you coulda seen it. But noooo you HAD to be out there with your kiddy job doing kiddy things. Who cares about MY badass moments? Not you two, that’s for sure!”
“Fucking shit,” Cameron sighed. “I’m going to bed.”
“Yeah, that room got trashed too.” Lee looked falsely sympathetic.
“WHAT, HOW?”
“I might have used your mattress to slam one of them,” Lee said, pointing to a mattress flat against the wall with a bloodstain behind it.
“You can have my bed,” Malcolm said, as the two moved upstairs. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“Thanks, but isn’t your bed like, huge?”
“Does it matter?”
As the two went upstairs, Lee called after them. “YOU COULD ALWAYS GO OVER TO THAT GUY ADRIAN’S HOUSE! BET YOU’D HAVE FUN AT DINNER!” The two ignored her as they went upstairs to get some well deserved sleep. “...BECAUSE KNIVES? INNUENDO? DAMMIT PAY ATTENTION TO ME WHEN I’M MAKING FUN OF YOU!”
Realizing she wasn’t going to get a response, Lee sighed, put her legs down, and went to her room and fell asleep.
It was no fun when people were tired.
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