Chapter 4: The Reply
Dola awoke to the sound of a door closing. She quickly realized that the boys had just left for town, which meant she was left with Kurt. She groaned in annoyance and walked to the kitchen. Food had already been made. She ate as slowly as she could manage and then walked to Kurt's quarters.
She opened the door, set the food on the stool and stood beside the door. "You don't have to stay." She finally made eye contact with Kurt, who spoke hesitantly. "I obviously made you angry last night. I don't know how, but I can tell you don't want to be stuck with me. You can leave." Dola opened the door. "Before you go, at least tell me why you got so angry."
She was tired, drained, pained and didn't care about pretenses anymore. "About two years ago, a father and his three sons were crushed to death in your family's mines, among 16 other men. They were pushed beyond safety limits by rules that your family invoked. Their names were Terrence, Samuel, Kenneth and Henry Dola and they were good, kind men who had their lives ahead of them. In one moment, I lost my father and 3 brothers, I lost my family, my life, everything. And you couldn't even be bothered to remember their names." Dola quickly shut the door behind her, not wanting to see his face.
The day passed slowly. When it was time for lunch, Dola opened the door to a crack, set his food on the floor and shut it. She heard him call out, "I'm sorry." It should have meant nothing to her, but from the tone in his voice, she could tell that he was trying to convey more than words could articulate.
It was nearing dinner time and Dola was feeling paranoid. The boys had been gone for hours; they could be really stocking up, maybe they were goofing off or they could've been caught. She really hoped for the first. Before she knew what she was doing, she opened the door to Kurt's room.
He sat silently on his makeshift bed, which was just a cushioned floor mat. Kurt's head lifted in Dola's direction, but he couldn't meet her eyes. For a brief second, Dola felt bad; Kurt had seemed like nothing but a decent person thus far and she had unloaded her tragedy on him, looking to place the blame where he was faultless. He hadn't made the decisions that cost her everything; and even if forgetting was callous, it had been two years.
"Follow me." Dola spoke before her mind could decipher what she was saying or why she was saying it.
She turned her back and walked quickly. She didn't need to look behind her to know that he was close behind. After a few turns and a stretch of hallway, she opened up a door and ushered him in; they still had yet to make eye contact. Kurt looked up and Dola watched with subtle satisfaction as his jaw went slack. His eyes filled with a sense of wonder at the large engine room around them. "This is incredible." He whispered as if speaking too loud might shatter the mirage.
"I think so." She spoke soft in kind.
He touched a gear nearby and they stood in companionable silence. Several minutes passed and stretched between them. Kurt finally spoke, not looking away from where his hands almost caressed the warm metal beneath them. "I can't imagine what that must've been like for you and I'm ashamed by my own insensitivity."
Dola watched him in silent fascination. "You had no way of knowing. The boys don't even know. I've never talked about it with anyone."
"You must hate me."
"I did." Dola refused to be anything but frank. "The moment the plan was hatched, I jumped at the chance to cause your family any pain. I even entertained the thought of hurting you." Kurt turned and looked at her. "I thought if it was so easy for your family not to care, then why should I have to? I was determined to rob them, like they had robbed me, even if the retaliation wasn't anything close to equivalent." She looked at him. "But I can't blame you; it's not your fault. I just…" A shaky breath quivered from Dola's throat and she was embarrassed by the vulnerability of it. "Can we not talk about this anymore?"
Kurt nodded, his gaze still intent, but he spoke softly. "Will you tell me more later?" It wasn't hard for Dola to interpret that he wasn't just talking about her feelings on kidnapping him or losing her family, he was trying to get her to just tell him more in general.
"Maybe." She sighed lightly, devoid of any despair. "I'm in no mood to make promises and you have a cell to go back to."
She tucked him back into his room and got to work on dinner. The boys piled in a few minutes after she had finished. Ed was three sheets to the wind and practically swinging. David brought Kurt his food at the behest of Dola, when she noticed a strange look on Thomas's face. The rest of the men ate loud and slowly in the kitchen, while Dola carted Thomas into the control room. "What, Thomas?"
"We got a reply." He said, his voice stunned and something else she couldn't quite name.
"And?" She prompted, feeling nervous despite herself. Thomas stared back for nearly a minute when Dola was finally able to recognize that expression, he was dumbfounded. "Thomas?"
He shook his head almost imperceptibly. "They refused to pay a dime. They said they would disown him before they would cough up a cent." If Dola's jaw hung, she was too preoccupied to correct it.
The Rogues slept heavily that night, tired from the trek to town, but Dola tossed and turned as did Thomas. What did this mean? They had tried to approach this situation with as much strategy and forethought as they possessed, but here they were several days later, in the hole and too damn confused to even brainstorm their next move.
Could they just let Kurt go? That idea almost seemed laughable; what would stop him from passing on information to his kin? Before they had planned on using some of their ransom to refuel and relocate, but with nothing to show for their efforts, it wouldn't be hard for Kurt to give up enough clues to send the law in the right direction and catch The Rogues before they could even afford to move on.
Dola felt sick to her stomach. There was a look in Thomas's eyes the night before, a look she had seen from every other member, but him. It was desperation. He had clearly felt like this situation had got the better of him and now he wasn't sure where to move on to. Thomas in uncharted territory was a frightening thing; he always had a handle on things, but right now he was unpredictable. Dola couldn't stand the thought of not knowing what might happen next.
Before Dola could stop herself, she barged into Thomas's room. "So, what?" She breathed and tried to channel a less demanding tone. "What are we going to do? What's the plan?"
Thomas shook his head, still awake sitting in bed. "I'm not entirely sure." He breathed steady and slow. "I say we dump him."
Dola nodded at that. It should be simple enough, dropping Kurt off somewhere. He would find his way home soon enough, though Dola doubted he would want to go back if he knew how his family was more than willing to turn their backs on him. "I kind of feel a little bad for him. It would be hard to go home once you learn your family doesn't give a damn about you."
"No, Dola. We're not just dropping him off; we can't." Dola looked at him not quite sure if he meant what she was afraid he meant. "Look, what's one less rich asshole?"
Dola's eyes widened. "I know you are not talking about upgrading ourselves from thieves to murderers so casually. What the hell, Thomas?"
He was eerily calm when he replied. "What would you suggest, Dola? Releasing our captive? If we let him go, we'll be proving that we aren't serious about what we're doing, that if someone says 'no' to us, we'll just cower like a dog with our tails between our legs, because we are too afraid to do what's needed."
"But there's more to it, than that. You're talking about killing a person; all for the sake of reputation?" She said, incredulous.
"I haven't made a decision quite yet, Dola. I need the day or so to weigh our options."
"Are you going to tell the boys?"
"I'm going to have to. We'll talk later today."
Dola crossed her fingers that everyone else would see that even if Thomas had a point, it wasn't worth killing someone. The boys had to see what a big mistake this was and as long as there was some opposition to Thomas's proposition, then Kurt would be fine and Dola wouldn't have to worry. She hated that she feared for him, but she couldn't help herself; the idea of killing Kurt was unimaginable, especially now after seeing that like her, he also was an orphan, in his own way.
Dola tried to quiet her nerves when she brought Kurt his food. He ate with a smile on his face, while she had to swallow her anxiety. Kurt took a breath, "I want you to know that after what you told me, I am resolved to make a change with the way my father and brother do business. I know it can't replace what you've lost," he gave that thought a moment of silence. "But I can stop it from happening to anyone ever again." She had inspired him and the look he gave her translated that well enough.
Kurt was reaching for conversation, but he could sense her hesitance. "Thank you." Dola finally met his gaze. "For yesterday, I mean." His eyes were soft and the warmth in Dola's stomach quickly turned to a sickness in her gut.
"It was nothing." Dola tried to look away and felt a slight blush in her face from the sincerity of his thanks.
"No, really. After everything you have gone through, I amazed you were able to have any kind of compassion for me. I may not be entirely scared right now, but it can get pretty disorienting when I don't know what's coming next and your kindness really means a great deal to me." He let out an embarrassed laugh and shyly looked away. "It sounds trivial, but it has been nice getting to know you." Kurt took a deep breath and met her eyes. "You know, I'm really glad that you're just like how I first imagined you."
Dola laughed at that and her eyes narrowed playfully. "Just like how you first imagined? Am I that predictable?"
"Well, a little better, I guess. Appeased?"
"A little. Now, eat your damn food." She smiled humoredly. Kurt nodded and finished his breakfast quickly. "See you at lunch." Dola grabbed his dishes and turned towards the door.
"It's a date." Kurt said playfully.
"Ha ha. Not even close."
Dola headed to the kitchen and felt her gut tighten. She breathed shallowly. There was no reason to worry, the group would be too afraid to crossover into killers. Kurt would be fine; she didn't need to think about losing the first person she had felt close to since she lost her family. It would all work out and she would laugh later for having ever been nervous.
The Rogues all sat quietly around the table, while Dola wrung her fingers beneath it. Thomas spoke steady and confident, more than likely trying to convince the group so they wouldn't see his trepidations. He finished without interruptions and looked to the members before them. "Arguments, either for or against?"
Rich and Kent just nodded at him. Dola had counted on them to follow Thomas blindly, having been with him since childhood. Ed looked pensive for the first time, until he spoke. "Eh, let's waste him. It seems the only option."
Dola felt stupid for not seeing that coming. She spoke hesitantly, not wanting to seem too attached, but more thorough. "I think we should think about this for a second you guys; we're talking about killing someone. That's going to have much larger repercussions than I think any of us are prepared for. Are you guys okay with killing someone in cold blood?"
Thomas sighed and spoke as if he was trying to explain something to a child. "It's the natural progression of things right now, Dola…"
She interrupted him before he could continue. "I don't accept that. Murder isn't the natural progression of anything."
"It is in this situation. We're thieves, at what point did you expect every job to go smoothly and end amicably? We don't have a moral code, Dola. We have to do what is best for the group."
"Getting a large price on our heads is what is best for the group?" She tried to quiet the passion in her voice, but she was quickly losing patience with this train of conversation.
"No, avoiding capture is. Think about it, they wouldn't even consider the thought of paying a cent in exchange for a living son. Do you really think they would pay anything noteworthy to catch who killed him? They don't give a shit. I say we cut our losses."
"A person is not a loss, Goddammit!"
Dola's spine quivered when she heard a condescending 'tsk tsk' erupt from Kyle's mouth. "Methinks the lady doth protest too much." He sneered in her direction. "I think Dola's gone soft for the rich boy."
Dola couldn't stop the reflex as her hand flew of its own accord and struck Kyle in the face. "You watch what you say, Kyle. I won't take any accusations of that kind, least of all from you." She breathed deeply and silenced the rage in her expression. "I want best for the crew and if we kill the whelp things will get even messier. I say we take some time and see if the Wainwrights," she spit, "decide to rethink their original stance on ransom."
For the first time David, Dola's ace in the hole spoke. "So we can be caught red-handed with the rich boy? I don't see a scenario where this plays out in our favor, D. I say we quit now while we're ahead."
Kyle spoke, still smug. "Yeah, I say we trash Dola's boyfriend too."
"HEY!" Shouted Thomas. "Enough, Kyle." Thomas turned his attention and looked at her in disappointment, as if she wasn't being a team player. "Dola, you have been overruled. This is happening."
Dola shrugged, trying her hardest to seem casual. "Fine, but if the shit hits the fan, the murder is on you six." She took a sip of some water and tried to sound conversational. "So, how do you want to do this?"
Kyle looked surprised. "You don't care that you've lost?" He sounded skeptical.
"Look, I only want to pursue the crew's safety and if majority calls for it I have to trust that you guys know what you're doing. How should we proceed? Nothing messy, okay? I'm not going to be Den Mother and clean up after you guys."
Thomas thought this through; he had expected her to challenge him some more. "I don't know, but why don't we handle this tomorrow?"
Dola called attention. "I have a suggestion." Thomas looked back at her waiting for another argument. "As far as how we dispose of him, that is." She smirked and ignored the way it triggered a lurching in her gut. "I say you all find a way to put the body somewhere public, in town."
"Are you crazy?" Kyle spit out.
"Look, Kyle if we are doing this, we need to send a message. You guys want to establish a reputation, there's no better way than this. No one will ever be able to doubt the vigilance and follow-through that The Rogues possess ever again. We can make an example of the Wainwrights. The Rogues will not be underestimated or insulted." She had to contribute even if she hoped they would never get that far.
Thomas thought for a second. "Okay, Ed: I say you take care of the boy tomorrow. Then at night we bring the body to town and practically drop it at the doorstep of the Wainwrights. Good?"
Ed nodded, unaffected by being ordered to do the dirty work. They all talked a big game, but Dola knew that none of them had ever killed a man before, which explained the delegation of responsibility. In a minute, Dola's entire opinion of all the boys changed. They were all just a bunch of cowards and she felt ashamed to have aligned herself with them for so long. "I say we fuel up. We may need to get away pretty quick after the drop tomorrow."
"Good point, Dola." Thomas pointed to Rich and Kent. "Boys, fuel run tonight. David, you watch the prisoner for now. We'll take shifts through the day and into the night. If he escapes, we are screwed. Dola, you take over after David in 5 hours and watch until you are replaced with Kyle, who will watch from the dinner shift to early morning. Okay?"
"Do you still want me to bring meals? He might suspect something if not. Thoughts?" Dola asked.
"Yeah, when you take over Dola, bring him late lunch and tell him that we won't have dinner, give him some excuse, spoiled food, molded bread, I don't care. Just be calm and comforting; he trusts you." Thomas looked around the table. "Everybody clear on their jobs? Kyle, you make lunch so Dola can rest before her shift."
Dola sat on her bed, flabbergasted. They actually expected her to be able to sleep when they were supposed to kill a person the next day? She began to formulate a plan, amazed at how quick she could turn on these men she had been working with for nearly a year to protect a stranger she hadn't known even a week. Could Kyle be right? She never thought that was possible. But maybe on the off chance and against the odds, he was right; maybe she was soft on Kurt. She immediately wanted to dismiss that, but for some reason she couldn't comfortably shake the thought from her head.
Once Dola finished her plan, she counted the breaths until it was time for her shift. She reached 3,412.
She grabbed Kurt's food and walked into the room, seemingly unfazed in the eyes of her crew. "Hey, I nearly thought you were going to stand me up." Kurt smiled as he took the bowl from her hands.
"Sorry, the chef had to salvage what he could. Seems some of the food they swiped was no good, so no dinner tonight." Dola spoke casually and waited for what felt like long enough for anyone to move on from the closed door in case anyone suspected her. "Hey," She whispered.
Kurt looked at her gently and for the first time the glare of the light missed his glasses and she could see that they were a honey brown color. "Yeah?" He spoke softly in reply.
"I can't explain too much of what is going to happen without getting sidetracked. I think you trust me, but I need to be sure."
Kurt kept his face calm in spite of the urgency in her voice. "I trust you."
"Completely?" Kurt nodded. "Okay, we got a reply." His face immediately fell. "I'm guessing from your expression that I don't have to explain what was said or what it means?" He nodded again. "Look, besides me, the entire crew unanimously voted to waste you. I had no way of convincing them, but I tried-"
Dola was cut off before she could finish. "It's okay, Mathilde. I appreciate all you have done and I know that you can't just stick your neck out for me. I'm not angry, in fact, thank you for being honest with me."
"Hey, moron, shut up." Dola could hardly believe her ears. Kurt was fine with letting some idiotic wannabe renegades kill him, because he had trashy parents? She didn't know if this made her want to hit or hug him. "You better not be so damn quick to give up, when I'm willing to risk it to save your complacent ass. No one is going to lay a finger on you, okay?" Kurt looked baffled. "Eat your food dammit!" He obliged and she continued. "We are taking shifts watching you and mine is up in a few hours. Later tonight when I come in, I am going to need you listen to everything I say, but right now for the abridged version. When you are out of this room, I need you to move fast and quiet to the engine room. Beside those gears, there is a hollow spot beneath the floorboards. Hide there. Don't move or breathe until I get you, do you understand?"
Kurt began to interject, but Dola barked. "Hey, I wasn't lying when I said no dinner! Finish that." At some point during her speech he had abandoned his food. "If you don't act perfectly normal, then you will have screwed us both. Do you got that?"
"Yes." Kurt wanted to ask several questions, but he trusted her and knew that as it stood, the instructions she had given him were simple enough. Why complicate things?
