Chapter 5: Hangman

The car moved steadily down the road, slowing only as it neared the outskirts of the city. Eventually, the driver pulled over to the side of the road and parked the vehicle altogether. Balalaika clenched the handle of the door tightly and flung it open angrily as she exited, slamming it behind her. She looked over the roof of the car towards the Slip Knot Bridge, her eyes fixated on something. Her legs carried her slowly around the car and into the middle of the road to meet with Boris, who had come out all this way personally for this. After he made the call, Balalaika was escorted out here herself to meet with him. She could hardly believe what she had been told, but now she could do nothing but believe it.

The man currently hanging by the neck from the bridge was one of her own. What was more, he had been critical in assisting with some of her operations overseas. Alexei had come to Roanapur in the last few days to update Hotel Moscow on a situation in Hong Kong. Now, his pale, lifeless body hung limp from a thick rope that had been tied into a noose and fastened around his neck. Whether he had been killed before being hanged or not was a mystery. The Slip Knot Bridge always had an old, tattered noose hanging from its steel beams for as long as any of them could remember, but never in recent memory had anyone actually been strung up like Alexei. He certainly hadn't committed suicide, which was also something that had happened in the past at this location.

"We found him almost an hour ago," Boris explained as Balalaika stopped beside him, her eyes never leaving the body above. "Looks like he's been dead for less than a day. A quick examination of the body told us it wasn't the noose that killed him, but it's hard to be sure without cutting him down."

"I want the person who did this, Sergeant," Balalaika said through gritted teeth, only now averting her eyes and closing them tightly. "I want to feel the life leave his body when he dies. Cut him down." Boris nodded to two of Hotel Moscow's enforcers who were standing over by a second car. They, along with Boris, must have been taking the bridge into the city when they spotted Alexei. One of the men cut the rope with a knife while the other held the rope securely, slowly lowering the body into the road. Once Alexei was down, the men went to him and carried his body over to the car to lay it in the back seat.

"Do we have any leads? Anything at all we can work with?"

"I called back to headquarters when you were on your way here," Boris explained. "They've put some feelers out. Should have some more information when we get back."

"Good," Balalaika answered without hesitation. She wanted nothing more than to have the one responsible for this at her mercy right now. She wanted to kill him personally. "He will know that Hotel Moscow are not to be trifled with."

"Funny," Boris answered her, "I thought the entire city would have known that by now." Balalaika sighed deeply.

"You and me both, Sergeant." Despite the carnage that had taken place during the last two years, it seemed not everybody had gotten the message that this was Hotel Moscow's city, now, and they would abide no dissension. Then again, this felt like neither a random act of violence nor a foolish attempt to hurt Hotel Moscow. It was almost calculated. And the fact that the body had been hung at the entrance to the city spoke volumes about the intentions of the mystery killer. Balalaika suddenly felt vulnerable, as if this had been an attempt to lure her out into the open. She pulled the jacket hanging from her shoulders around her tightly to ward off the cold. "Let's head back," she suggested. "The sooner we find this degenerate, the better."

They all hurried back into their cars and drove back into the city. Once they arrived back at the building, Balalaika and Boris headed straight for her office. As it happened, these 'feelers' her people had put out were frustratingly uninformative. They had no concrete information, only speculation about who could have ordered Alexei's death. Worse again, these suggestions related to individuals that may have hired someone to kill the Russian man, not regarding the actual killer him or herself. Balalaika listened to each of her subordinates say their piece with some vain hope they would provide something useful. Then, when they were done speaking, she dismissed them all and it was her and Boris alone again in her office. She clipped the end of a cigar with her cigar cutter and placed it between her lips, lighting it and taking a well-needed drag. Then, she leaned one arm on the table and began examining the files that had been arranged before her when Boris called about the body.

"So, that's it, then," Balalaika said woefully. "We're no closer to finding this killer than we were at the bridge."

"Apologies, Kapitan," Boris told her. "I'd hoped we would have more information to work with when we returned."

"Oh, it's not your fault, Sergeant," she said gently. "But someone is out there with their sights set on my people. I can't have that."

Boris was quiet for a moment, then he swallowed.

"We've…lost more than our fair share of people already." Balalaika nodded to herself silently as she opened one of the files before her.

"Quite right," she said solemnly. "It hasn't been the year we expected, has it? Our numbers have grown thin with all the chaos we've seen in such a short time."

"It hasn't been easy," Boris agreed.

"Or cheap. It's been a nightmare to keep Chief Watsup's nose out of our affairs, frankly. He's been a bit…rebellious these last two years. Had our most recent conflict gotten any worse, I fear we may have had the police opposing us in a revolt." Boris almost laughed at the idea. Keeping the police out of the city's criminal underworld was tricky on the best of days, but the ruling factions had managed to figure it out almost perfectly. With everything that had happened recently, though, it had become increasingly more difficult to have the authorities ignore what was happening in Roanapur. It was a marvel that Balalaika hadn't gone grey yet.

She examined the picture in the file, a photo of the Wolf from only a few months after he had come to the city. Boris must have noticed this, coming to his boss's side.

"You don't think…?"

"Not at all," Balalaika explained. "He has little reason or justification for targeting us, and he's made a point of keeping his head down and his nose clean while we've been destroying our enemies. But he is a wicked one. I haven't seen a ferocious skill in combat since the old days."

"You're saying he was a soldier?"

"Not in the traditional sense, Sergeant. He's a soldier of fortune. He may not have served himself but he was trained by someone who did. Those are the eyes of someone who was shown how to kill before perfecting the art himself." Balalaika closed the file and tossed it aside, opening the next one. There were several pictures in here of unknown men and women in black military fatigues. Accompanying these was a larger photo in the corner, one of a much younger Hunter Woods from many years ago. The picture itself had been sourced by some of Hotel Moscow's foreign-based higher ups while Balalaika made preparations to stamp out his remaining loyalist followers in Hong Kong. "Alexei was integral to our plans in Hong Kong, Sergeant. Our mission to wipe out the Dead Men is in full swing and now one of my own has been slaughtered right under my nose."

"Kapitan..," Boris began, concerned with how much this was clearly affecting his boss. She was a stern and stoic woman who very rarely showed any emotion, but the gauntlet of battles, conflicts and wars that plagued Roanapur for almost a full two years had taken its toll on her. She was not particularly heartbroken about Alexei specifically, though she would mourn for him in her own silent way, but she was more concerned with the fact that it was becoming increasingly difficult to manage her affairs in the city. As she said, their numbers were growing thinner than ever before and Balalaika had been through enough hardship for ten people her age. Her spirit was becoming weary with it all.

"Forgive me, Sergeant," she apologised, steeling herself. "It's been…a real pain in the ass, to be blunt." On that point, Boris, and the rest of Hotel Moscow, could agree.

Balalaika spotted a third file on her desk, snapping it up and opening it. She saw the man in the photo, with grey hair and an unfriendly, imposing face. Major Landis had been the subject of Hotel Moscow's interest shortly after Godswrath were put down due to the fact that their presence had been unprecedented. Up until that point, none of the ruling factions even knew about his presence in the city and they certainly didn't know about the operation he was running. Thanks to Rock and his misstep into the darkness for a time, the private security syndicate suddenly came to light and Balalaika made a point of keeping tabs on Landis. For now, the people that had been employed by Rock served Mister Chang and the Triad. When that contract ran out, though, Balalaika would resume her investigation of them. Even quite recently, she had been receiving some concerning reports.

"He's been meeting with more clients," Boris told her. "Just last week, he had someone flown in from outside the country."

"Pity he wouldn't keep his business local," Balalaika joked. "Peculiar, that one. And quite surprising he was so adept at staying hidden for so long."

"Should we warn the Triad?"

"No…not yet. Chang can fight his own battles. Besides, I don't think there's anything to worry about just yet. Have your eyes in the streets watch him as best they can. And while you're at it, find me something on this little weasel who killed Alexei so I can arrange for his head to be brought to me in a box."