Chapter 10: Special Kind of Hell

"Didn't think you'd ever show your face," Lucille exhaled, still in shock at the unprecedented appearance of Ulysses. "How did you find us?" The elusive crime lord did not waver. His face was blank but alert.

"You of all people should know not to underestimate me," he told her wryly. "You were spotted in the streets by one of my people. Sloppy."

"You brought others?"

"Of course," Ulysses told her. "The boy you brought here-Rock-his people are outside. Only reason they haven't attacked is because I convinced them not to." Lucille scoffed.

"And why would do that?"

"So we would have a chance to talk. I'm sure you want to say many things to me, now that I'm finally here." Lucille considered it for a moment. She finally gestured for her people to leave the room. Once they were alone, they each took a seat across from one another. Lucille had spent so long in pursuit of Ulysses and his organisation. It was still sinking in that he was here now. Of course he would have a backup plan, a contingency to assure his survival. If she attempted to kill him, Rock's people would more than likely storm the place.

"You know there's only one way this ends," she told him. "I didn't expect you to walk in here alone. You realise I can't just let you leave unharmed?" Ulysses nodded.

"I do. But there are three very pissed off killers out there. At the first sign of trouble, they'll come looking. I know you don't want to risk that."

"That's precisely why I took Rock," she corrected him. "I wanted his people to come here. So I could kill them myself. It's the first step towards the purging of this city."

"No denying that," Ulysses agreed. He knew well what her plans were. As closely as she had been following him, he had been keeping tabs on her just as often. He knew all about her distaste for Roanapur, her desire to change it. Much of that stemmed from her hatred for the cartels and crime syndicates that operated here. "But I bet you weren't banking on Hotel Moscow showing up." A look of uncertainty spread across Lucille's face. "That's right. Right now, their people are probably already inside this building. Rock gets out of here one way or another." Lucille leapt to her feet and reached for her gun.

"And you're willing to die for that man?" she asked. "You're willing to let this city go on like this?!"

"No to the first, yes to the second," he replied with a smile, coming to his feet as well. Quick as a flash, he knocked the gun to the floor with a backhand and grabbed Lucille, dragging her to him. She was strong and capable. The longer he held her, the more in danger he was. He needed to get out of here before she unleashed hell on him. "Your brother was not who you thought he was! You want to kill me. You'll keep following me until your dying breath. Not going to talk you out of it. But I will make you see the truth." With that, he threw her to one side and left the room. Gunshots ensued, though it was almost a certainty that he had escaped without being killed by Godswrath. Lucille was on her feet in seconds and sprinting upstairs to where Rock had been held. Once she arrived, all that was left was an empty chair and a note. She kicked the chair to the other side of the room, infuriated. Whatever was in the note, she was sure she didn't want to read it. But she didn't really have a choice. She plucked it up from the ground.

Meet me outside of town. North. Look for the flag.

That was frustratingly vague. Still, it was something. There was no doubt she was being lead into a trap. Even so, the note had either been written by Ulysses before he entered the building and left by one of Hotel Moscow's agents, or Lagoon Company had written it in the hopes that they could confront Lucille for the abduction of Rock. She didn't much care at this point. She would go to this meeting, regardless. Too much time had been wasted already. She needed to put her plan into action. Her people entered the room, then, eager to get on with it. There was Mark, of course, the American muscle-house who was ready to serve at a moment's notice. Killian, too, was from the States, with hair as bright as his mind and a penchant for unarmed combat. Henry was one of her own, having served under her in the S.A.S. He was a rather posh man, which contradicted his unmatched talent for violence. But he followed orders and did his job correctly. Finally, her gaze fell upon Cobb, the cockney charmer who had come close to being discharged a few times. Now that he was AWOL along with the rest, there was no worrying about that. They had far more immediate problems to deal with, now. The four of them were undoubtedly the best that Godswrath had to offer. The other four would be missed. Their deaths hurt more than any of them cared to admit.

"Orders, Captain?" asked Henry.

"Arm up," she told them. "Meet me in the garage in five. We have work to do." She accompanied them to the cramped room downstairs where they stored their weapons and ammo. She hung a sniper rifle around her shoulder and retrieved her pistol with the inscription across the side. Hotel Moscow would not hold back now that they knew where Godswrath were staying. They needed to move quickly. This entire building was now compromised. Once they were all ready, they hopped into their armoured car. Lucille drove herself. She was not one to needlessly delegate work to her subordinates. She knew where to go and how to get there. Though the note was vague, she found herself north of Roanapur, where the sight of the Slip Knot Bridge met her. A tattered Irish flag hung from the top of it. Sure enough, there was a single car parked ahead. Lucille came to a stop. She removed her sniper rifle and handed it to Henry in the passenger seat.

"Captain?" he asked, though he was sure he knew what she wanted of him.

"If this goes south, do not let them escape," she told him. "You're my second-in-command, Lieutenant." She exited the vehicle then and walked forward a few paces, anticipating three or four angry members of Lagoon Company to show themselves. To her surprise, one man exited the lone car on the bridge. She did not recognise him, though the Desert Eagle at his side and the blade on his back suggested he would not go down easy.