Atonement: Lincoln Clay

Episode 14: Got to Beware


[Wombag1786: Thanks and Lincoln will do more than paint it black with led!]

[Gamelover41592: Yep, thanks.]


-VALE: INDUSTRIAL DISTRICT: MORNING-

It was the cold beginning of another relatively peaceful day within the city of Vale, business as usual for the locals, including a small general store on a corner near the dockyards. Within the store though was another example of the usual goings on within the city that most would turn a blind eye to, a simple drug store stick-up. Two thugs stood at the counter of the store, pointing their guns at the clerk who happened to be a middle aged dog faunus.

One of the stick up 'artists' put his gun to the owner's forehead and was about ready to squeeze the trigger if the store owner made any sudden moves. "Alright, hand me the lien cards you've racked up today." Little did both of them know, there was a shotgun hidden under the counter. The man holding pistol to the owner's head had expected something though, all he needed was that excuse to fire.

"I swear to Oum almighty, this happens once a month. Don't you assholes have anything better to do than rob me on a regular basis?" The clerk said as he opened the register and began pulling out the cards.

The criminal pointed his pistol slightly to the side and fired. "Hurry up! I haven't got all day!" He shouted impatiently.

"I'm hurrying! Don't fucking shoot me!" Shouted the clerk as he pulled out more of the cards.

-MEANWHILE-

Lincoln was busy strolling along the street with his hands inside his jacket for warmth. The big man had spent so much time in the humidity of the southern USA and Asian jungles that it was taking him some getting used to for the cold air of Vale in winter. He grumbled to himself as he walked into the general store for his groceries for the week. He'd remember to grab a few cigars on his way out of course, he needed a little something to relax besides alcohol after all. He approached the door and was about to walk in when he saw the two thugs at the counter. The man holding the pistol at the clerk was briefly distracted and the owner quickly dove for the shotgun.

Lincoln rushed the second man that was holding an assault rifle and proceeded to beat him with his bare hands. The pistol packing crook fired a shot at the clerk who had popped back up, but the clerk fired a load of buckshot into the criminal's torso. Although the blast hadn't killed him, the shot had almost instantly knocked the man to the ground. Lincoln pounded his fist into the other crook's face and cracked his teeth like thin glass hitting the sidewalk. The crook fired his rifle as he struggled to force the trained soldier off of him, which happened to obliterate a few shelves of products that happened to be in the line of fire. Within a few seconds, the magazine had emptied and an audible click signaled that he had expended his ammunition. Lincoln keened the man in his balls and forced him to drop the gun in pain. Slightly more than a second later, Lincoln had brutally stomped his boot on the man's face, which knocked him unconscious.

With both criminals down for the count, Lincoln and the shop owner could breathe easy. The dog faunus sighed as he set the shotgun down on the counter and leaned back against the wall. He'd been lucky this time, but the sad fact was that it wouldn't always be the case, there was bound to be another robbery or another shakedown sooner or later. He could only growl in anger at his situation, he'd been suffering this crap for too long in his opinion. Why did this have to keep happening to him? Was it just bad luck or were the gods being cruel? His train of thought was derailed by the customer who'd approached the counter.

A shopping basket was set on the counter with an audible clack. "How much for all this?" Lincoln asked the shopkeeper.

"O-oh right. Let me just ring you up." The dog faunus stepped over to the register and started typing away. "Fucking White Fang, oh we fight for faunus rights! We'll protect your shop, just pay us they said!" the man grumbled just barely loud enough for Lincoln to hear.

"I take it this shit happens regularly." Lincoln said as he pulled a card out of his wallet to pay up for the groceries. The shop owner still hadn't looked up to see who exactly was standing at the counter.

"You don't know the half of it. And the WF sends two of their own men around to hassle me for lien pretty often too. Between their protection racket and guys like these assholes, this little shop of mine is bleeding dry." The shopkeeper groaned sadly. "I owe ya though for helping me out. Half price on the…." He trailed off as he stared at the man who was patronizing his establishment. "I know you, you run the bar around the corner, Sammy's!"

"Yeah I do, and you're in there pretty often." Lincoln said casually as he recalled the one the friendly faces from his pub.

"It's cozier and less noisy than that damn nightclub, and you give faunus a place to work and relax in peace. Of course there's also that other bar across town-"

"Oohh. My head." The criminal on the ground moaned in pain, he tried to roll over and stand up despite the injuries he'd sustained.

"Hold that thought." Lincoln said to clerk, he then walked over to the crook on the ground and raised his boot in the air. The beefy bar owner then brutally stomped it down on the back of his target's head to devastating effect. A loud crack and cry of pain from the criminal was the result of the green jacketed man's stomp. "Now you mind telling me why you keep robbing my friend?"

"None of your fucking business! That's why!"

*STOMP*

"OW!"

"Are you going to answer me, or does this have to get even more painful?"

"FUCK YOU!"

*STOMP*

"GAH FUCK! OK! No cops come around here! It's always an easy score! Hell, they don't even bother coming down here since this is Fang turf!"

"I should put a bullet in your head right now and be done with it, I get the feeling no one would miss scum like you and the piece shit over there." Lincoln pulled out his .45 and cocked it. He then put a round in the man's foot for good measure.

"AH WHAT THE FUCK?! MY FOOT!" The small time crook screamed in agony while his foot bled from the bullet wound.

Lincoln yanked his bleeding victim from the floor and ripped the man's mask off. The man in question was a lizard faunus, as evidenced by his reptilian facial features and small horn on his head. After a good moment of memorizing the petty thug's face, Lincoln looked him straight in the eye and began to speak. "This is my neighborhood, not the White Fang's. You got that? If I catch you trying any more of this shit around here again, you'll get a bullet in your back instead of your foot."

A look of fear washed over the man's face while he looked into the stone cold eyes of the veteran soldier. "Don't kill me and I'll do whatever you want!" he screeched in panic.

With that business done, Lincoln threw him to the floor near his partner. He casually walked over to both men and dragged them out of the shop by their jackets. "Good, now get out of here." Once he'd reached the door with his captives, he proceeded to chuck them onto the sidewalk like the human garbage they were. The still conscious crook ended hitting a street lamp post when he landed, which broke his shoulder when coupled with the force of the impact. He then walked back over to the counter and proceeded to pay for his groceries again.

"Now where were we?" Lincoln asked the owner, and received a blank stare from the man for a brief moment.

The shopkeeper was more than a bit shell-shocked by his patron's display of violence. "Y-you, err… Ya just shot someone in my shop, in broad daylight ya know." He replied with an eye twitching at what he'd seen happen right in front of him.

"So did you, and now they won't be coming back. Your welcome." Lincoln replied coolly with a shrug, acting as if nothing had happened at all.

"Right, um that's 20." The stunned clerk shook his head and rang up Lincoln's purchase.

"Done." Lincoln nodded and handed over the card to pay. After a quick swipe of the card, the clerk gave it back and Lincoln prepared to leave with his groceries in hand.

Just as the busy soldier was about to leave, the shop owner decided to speak up. "Hey uh, before you go…"

Lincoln looked back at the clerk and raised an eyebrow. "You need something?"

"You're not for hire are you?" The man asked and Lincoln raised an eyebrow in response.

"I think we can work something out." Lincoln told him.

-1 HOUR LATER-

The criminal that was still conscious had limped his way into the safety of a back alley, while dragging his knocked out friend beside him. He clutched his cracked shoulder in agony, it was a solid reminder of the severe beating he'd suffered and the same could be said for the bullet hole in his foot that he'd wrapped tightly with duct tape. Everything had not gone as they'd planned like usual, they had heard the word on the street about a new player in town, but they hadn't expected him to show up out of nowhere. What kind of guy in the criminal underworld bothers to stop a simple liquor store stick-up? But that wasn't really important at the moment, what mattered to the crook was that he had somewhere to be. He cussed to himself as he hefted his pal over his shoulder and limped to the door at the far end of the alley.

It was a painfully slow slog through the dirty back alley, the wound in his foot making him want to cry with pain during every step forward. That asshole who stopped the robbery was going to get what was coming to him, and the small time thug knew just the people help him get his payback. After several minutes of more stumbling forward, he reached the back door to a shady looking building in the center of the alley. With a grunt of pain he set down his partner and dropped to the floor to writhe in agony.

"That human fucker is going to pay." The criminal groaned as he stood back up from the muddy ground of the alley. With a brief struggle to stay on his feet, the horned lizard faunus knocked on the door. "Open up!"

A metal slit in the door opened. "Password!"

"I forgot the fucking password Glade! But I got a message for Red!"

"Is that you Armin? Your worthless ass had better have something interesting for Red, or he's gonna kick seven shades of shit out of you."

"I'm bleeding here! Just open the Gods-damned door!"

"Fuck, looks like someone already did."

"It was a one of those fucking humans! The motherfucker shot me in my foot and knocked out Skit!"

"And why is Red going to find this important? Some human whoops your ass it's not automatically his problem."

"Oh it is, this guy is claiming he runs the neighborhood! This is the White Fang's turf to rule over!"

"Maybe, but one asshole with a gun shooting your ass ain't shit."

"I thought our motto her is if-"

"Fine, fuck it. You wanna plead your pity case to Red, go right ahead." Glade opened the door to Red's office and gestured for Armin to head on inside at his own peril. "Don't come whining to me again if he shoves his boot up your backside for bothering him."

"Blow it out your ass, Glade." Armin snarled as he limped into the den of his cell's leader. The room was decorated with White Fang propaganda and plenty of weapons and industrial equipment. Several crates of various goods were also scattered amongst the tools and guns, and within those crates was loot plundered from 'greedy humans'. Armin limped to the end of the room, near a back wall that cast a pitch black shadow. Within that shadow was a lit cigarette the managed to slightly illuminate a tiny patch of space within the darkness.

Armin kneeled at the base of the desk that stood just out side of the shadow. He gulped as he tried to find the words for what he was going to say to Red. A creak in front signaled that Red had moved and probably noticed his presence. The petty lizard faunus thug took a quick breath and was about to speak up, but Red beat him to it.

"Why are you in my office, with no tribute?"

"Red, uh I can explain."

"You've got 2 minutes."

"Some fucker stopped me from making a 'donation run' and is trying to take over the White Fang's turf! The human who runs the bar, Sammy's I think!"

"Is that right? And what evidence do you got? All I see is a runt with no tribute and a sob story."

"He knocked out skit and I'm all fucked up! He even said it himself that it's his neighborhood and not yours!"

"Let's say I took you at your word about this new hot shot in town, what do you expect me to do?"

"Roll on his ass! Teach him what we do to humans that aren't learning their place in this town! C'mon Red, he's a threat to the cause! He'll be a problem later if you don't kill him or teach the bastard about his place on the food-chain now! I bet he's the same fucker who got Junior to knuckle under!"

That immediately caught the cell leader's interest. "Did you just say Junior? You're talking about the guy who kicked in Junior's door and took over his business?"

"Yeah! He shot me in the foot and took the dough!"

"Junior was a valuable informant up until recently…. Hmm alright. Go get yourself fixed up, I'll gather the boys."

"Ya mean it Red?!"

"Get out before I stop being generous."

"Right boss!"

-8 HOURS LATER: SAMMY'S BAR-

The bar was lively with the sounds of clinking glasses and drinking songs as locals, both human and faunus alike, were enjoying a pleasant night as usual in Sammy's bar. A pretty tabby cat faunus waitress dropped off some drinks at a table of rowdy patrons who were busy toasting for their pal's bachelor party. Meanwhile at the counter a leopard faunus woman was slinging drinks for the row of thirsty men who'd stopped in the bar to relax after pulling long hours at the docks. Over in the corner of the bar near the back wall, a young faunus boy and his human girlfriend were enjoying a relaxing night in the comfy tavern. All in all, it was a simple day of regular business at Sammy's, and Lincoln couldn't enjoy it more.

He watched the patrons enjoying themselves in peace, humans and faunus alike having a fun night in his place. It was something he'd always waned to see in the del ray Hollow, people just getting along. His kids had all gone to bed and he was keeping an eye on the patrons for the time being from the end of the bar. Donovan stumbled over to him, clearly drunk off of his ass from one too many bottles of the bar's home distilled moonshine.

"Ohhhh hey Lincoln! How's is things going in here?" Donovan said with a heavy drunken slur in his voice.

"Fine, but you need to go sleep off the booze. We've got work to do tomorrow, I know you've got enough sense right now to be careful what you say."

"Riiiiiight! Yeah, got the big day tomorrow! I'lllll sober up, you know me pal. Hehehe."

"Go on, hit the sack. You will regret the headache in the morning though."

"Allllrrrrright. Just one more bottle first!"

"Donovan."

"Alright, I'll get some sleep, ya big killjoy." The drunk spy groaned as he stumbled to the stairs. Lincoln watched as his friend made the quick climb in a humorous way as he briefly struggled to pass the middle section of the staircase. Eventually the intoxicated spy flopped down on the 2nd floor landing and pub crawled to the bedroom. After that, the burly veteran relaxed in his seat and continued to let the nightlife of Vale play out in front him for a few minutes.

A short time later, there was a loud rumble outside from what sounded like a convoy of vehicles. Lincoln went behind the counter and crouched down for cover to stay out of sight. His beautiful bartender cocked her eyebrow at the action until it clicked in her mind and her eyes went wide as dinner plates. She gasped and watched as the bar's front door was violently kicked in with a loud bang. A group of people in grim masks stormed into the building and began pointing their weapons at the patrons. One of the armed people knocked a human man from his seat onto the ground and curb stomped his face. Lincoln reached for the emergency pump action shotgun he kept under the counter and signaled to his bartender not to draw any attention to herself. She gulped as the criminals stood aside and a slim faunus man swaggered through the open door. His mask seemed the most grim like among the members of his gang.

"I'm gonna ask nice. Where is Lincoln Clay? I've heard he's the human who runs this joint." The horned leader said calmly as he looked over the stunned patrons of the bar.

"Err boss? Red?" One of the gunmen piped up, which drew the attention of the leader.

"What?" He snarled at his faunus thug.

"There's faunus here…. Shouldn't we not be pointing guns at em? We're the White Fang." The lowly grunt gulped as he shrunk beneath his boss's cold gaze.

"This place is full of fucking human scum, as far as I'm concerned. If our fellow faunus get in the way, then they're traitors to their own kind as far as I'm concerned, so go ahead shoot em if the fight back." He ordered, clearly uncaring when it came to the issue of bloodshed of any innocent civilian of either race.

The brutal leader of the faunus group eyed the bartender and slowly strode towards her. "If you're here human, come on out! Ya roughed up a few of my men, I'm not leaving til I get retribution." He tried to call out his target. A moment later he'd settled his attention on the barmaid and grunted in amusement. "Well hello. I'm looking for your boss, beautiful. He's hiding behind the counter is he?"

"G-get out of here, you sleazebag! He ain't in here." She said bravely.

"Aw I'm insulted, you hurt my feelings." The man snorted in disregard for her words and then grabbed her by the throat. "Now tell me where mister Clay is." He clenched his fist around her neck.

"Ack- I'm not a rat faunus, you ass. And you ought to pay more attention." She told him with a satisfied grin on her face.

*PUMP CLICK*

"Get the fuck out of my bar." Lincoln growled at Red.

-END CHAPTER-