DALEK WEEK: The Roaring Twenties

Deryn hadn't planned to return to America, especially not San Francisco, but even the best made plans fell to pieces. She ducked behind a large newspaper stand and hid there as the policemen ran past without even thinking that she might be hidden there. Daft American Policemen.

(X)

This whole sorry mess had started with Dr. Barlow getting curious as to the nature of the Prohibition laws. As the personal assistant to Dr. Barlow, Deryn got shunted anywhere on the lady boffin's whim and her whim had been to skulk around America and inquire as to how the citizens were faring. After all, it was a strange thing, that America's economy had so thrived compared to the rest of the worlds', yet the government was restricting people from privileges even the lowest of commoners in the poorest countries could afford.

That was why Deryn had ingratiated with the owners of a suspected speakeasy. Alek on the other hand was taking the more formal route, being the former Prince of Austria and more like to be well-received by officials in the government. He was working with the policemen to get to the bottom of the illegal alcohol trade and Deryn was working with the speak-easies to get alcohol to those who really wanted it.

That had been problematic. For one, the owner of the speak-easy joint, Cantal Mouse, Danny Martins, was very much in favour of killing anyone who stood in his way of supplying alcohol to his customers and making money. And as Deryn had seen, competition between different speak-easies was very high. She'd been hired as a rumrunner along with five other hardened looking gentleman(or not.). At the end of a month, she was the only one still alive.

Deryn had managed to ease back into her sleep-schedule that she had used on the Leviathan. On the Leviathan, she'd always gotten the 9pm shifts to dawn shifts on the dorsal side of the ship. In Prohibition America, moonshine, rum and other alcohol was only smuggled into cities under the cover of darkness in some of the most remote places Deryn had ever seen. To be able to remain a successful part of the speakeasy and invaluable, Deryn had to be up and odd hour of the night and always armed. Alek had provided her with several pistols and knives after a small request for a smuggled weapon. She didn't know he did it and frankly, didn't want to know.

Of course, it was a dangerous business, rum-running and she had landed herself in prison once already and managed to reopen her knee injury, which wasn't great for running. But there were always worse things that could happen.

(X)

It was Tuesday, the 28th of April and Deryn was freezing. It was pouring it down with rain on the edge of San Andreas Lake and her companion, Sebastian Tiran wouldn't shut up. Spanish people. She kept her eyes and ears pealed for any traces of others amongst the forest.

"Derek! Derek! DEREK!"

Deryn turned around looking annoyed. "What is it, Sebastian?" she said, forcing a light American accent over her Scottish brogue

The Spanish man drooped, his thin black mustache seeming to deflate. "You weren't paying attention. What if someone ambushed us? I can't fight."

Deryn rolled her eyes. "I was blocking out your inane chatter. I'm paying attention to our surroundings. But it's difficult when you won't shut up!"

He looked very sad. "I'm sorry Derek. It's my first mission. I'm scared. What if the police catch us?"

Deryn gritted her teeth; she couldn't remember her or Alek ever being this pathetic. They dealt with what life threw at them, they didn't whine or complain when it was important. And this boy was older than her! The boy was 24, older than Deryn's 21, despite her faking to be around 30 and a man called Derek Smithers. "If they catch us, they catch us. Now shush. Pay attention to your surroundings. They could be here any moment now."

There was a peaceful silence for a moment, before Sebastian tired of being quiet and started chatting again. "Why isn't the shipment here? It's midnight; they said they'd be here. I'm so cold. I want to go back to the Cantal Mouse."

Deryn groaned and kept her ears pealed, tuning out Sebastian's whining. Suddenly, she heard the quiet sound of an engine coming from inland.

"Quick Sebastian, turn off the engine! The Police are coming from inland! I can hear their engines." Deryn hissed, ducking under the viewpoint of the windscreen.

But Sebastian did nothing. "Don't be stupid, Derek. There are times I forget you're a country hick. The Police don't use Clanker machines. The police use fabrications. Horse-eques are the most popular at the moment with the law. They're most efficient, and they have the life threads of a cheetah in them to make them run faster. They also don't break down like machines and all you need to keep them running is food and a doctor."

Deryn privately agreed with all of these statements, but she was supposed to come from the countryside in the North of the USA, a firm supporter of machines and Clanker technology. She envied Alek. He got to be around fabrications and horse-eques and she got stuck with Clanker technology, where she felt hopelessly out of place.

"It can't be the shipment. That's coming from the lake," mused Deryn. "That means there's only one person it could be; Victor Samuels."

Victor Samuels was the main rumrunner for the opposing speakeasy to the Cantal Mouse, The Laughing Horse. He was a tall bulky man, with an intimate knowledge of guns and other firearms. Deryn had never encountered him herself, but she knew the reason the other five rumrunners were dead was because of him. She'd have to watch her step around him.

"Victor Samuels?" whimpered Sebastian, as he sunk downwards under the windscreen.

"Get up, you fool. You're the driver. He'll spare you so you can send the message of my death." said Deryn as calmly as she could. But her heart was beating and her adrenaline levels were building. She would need them if they were to outrun Victor Samuels.

Sevastian didn't look convinced but sat up once more. Deryn leant back into her seat and lit a pipe. She thought smoking was a disgusting habit, but every male here smoked, so to blend in, she'd had to grow used to the vile taste of smoke and sin. The Zware shag was thick and black, a shag she'd stolen from Danny Martins. It was perhaps the worst tasting smoke yet and Deryn had to stop breathing in order to not gag and choke.

The men in the car she could now identify as purchased from the Ford factories, drew to a halt opposite Deryn's car.

Victor Samuels got out. Deryn fingered her shotgun with her left hand but continued to smoke, attempting to not choke.

"Howdy Victor," she called lazily, "Do you want a smoke too? I've got a light."

The gruff man scowled at her. "You are Derek Smithers, are you not?" he asked, a distinct European accent leaking through. She could see an old war injury in the limping walk and the many shrapnel scars on his face. She wondered if he had been in the trenches in the Great War.

"Yeah, that's right. Sure you don't want a smoke?" she said again and he started to growl. She merely smirked. The angrier he got, the more mistakes he'd make. She hoped.

"Come to steal our shipment of moonshine?" asked Sebastian, angrily, straightening in the car. Deryn groaned mentally; what a time for the boy to grow a backbone.

She smacked him around the head. "Ignore the driver. He's new to this whole game." She said casually, as if she wasn't newer.

Victor growled. "Draw your weapon." He said, "I want to get this over with."

Deryn purposefully yawned. "Boring. What if I don't want to? After all, guns are far too easy. A real man does things with his bare fists."

Deryn wasn't quite sure what she was doing. She could never take on the man in a brute strength battle. He was most definitely twice her weight and height. But then again, she had been with Lilit a few weeks ago and Lilit had been telling her about this new fangled Chinese fighting style of using the opponent's strength against them…

Deryn had only used this style once and had lost miserably to Lilit, who was far more experienced. But it was her only hope. Deryn was awful with Clanker Guns. Victor would have killed her in a heartbeat if they'd had a gun fight.

"No. Gun out." said Victor sharply.

Deryn grinned. "What a coward. Write this down Sebastian, Victor Samuels too scared to take on a man far smaller than him in a fist fight."

"I am not scared! You are puny. I will defeat you!" said Victor angrily and Deryn abruptly put her pipe down and rolled up her sleeves. Three knives were hidden there which she pulled off and placed in her seat. She removed both of her shotguns, but didn't remove the other six knives that were hidden in her lower body. Just in case Victor and his friends decided to play dirty.

Victor placed down four shotguns and a rifle, but Deryn wasn't stupid enough to think that he removed all of his weapons, either.

She settled into a boxing stance, her fists held upwards in a defensive position. Victor immediately came at her and she dodged the first three, the fourth hitting her hard in the stomach. Winded, Deryn staggered back. She immediately kicked Victor twice on the spot she was sure he had a war injury. He fell to the ground but, started to launch a punching assault on her lower body, until she too fell to the ground. He got up and was about to punch her when she grabbed his fist midway, and using his momentum, flung him back to the ground.

Deryn was ecstatic by that success! It was a trick that Lilit had used to defeat Deryn, but she knew Victor wouldn't stay down. Pulling herself up with agony, she put all of her weight on her good knee. Then, with a spring into the air, she transferred all of her weight to her bad leg and kneed Victor hard in the chest.

The man jerked suddenly, but he wasn't finished yet. Deryn had landed badly on top of him and he used the enormous strength in his arms to throw her until she hit the car. The metal was hard and sharp and Deryn felt woozy. She could feel blood trickling down the back of her head and the several little cuts and bruises all over the rest of her body.

She would feel that in the morning, but right now, her adrenaline propelled her back up again, ready to hit or be hit again.

To her surprise, she heard the car shake and she distantly saw Sebastian spring out the car with one of the shotguns.

"What are you doing, you d—" BANG! BANG! BANG!

With three shots, Victor fell to the ground, blood congealing in his chest. Deryn could hardly believe it, Sebastian could shoot!

But her mind had to quickly move from that subject because there were five very bulky men looking very menacing and angry that would most likely kill her for betraying the single combat rules. Damnit Sebastian, she would have won without his help!

She immediately flicked out her knives from her legs. Only six. She would have to be very accurate then. Deryn quickly threw the first three. It took down two of the mercenaries and narrowly missed one. She threw the other three as quickly as she could, dodging a bullet from one of the men and gained the same results. There was now one very angry man left with a very large rifle.

BANG! BANG! Two shots. Two shots are all it takes to kill somebody. Two small pieces of metal. The man fell but so did Deryn. She felt the bullet wound impact in her left arm and she could feel her heartbeat throbbing and letting the blood escape from the wound.

"Blisters Sebastian! When you shoot, try and bloody aim!" she shouted. Sebastian was already at her side, ripping off a bit of his shirt to wrap around her arm.

"I'm sorry!" he said looking pale, "I didn't mean to—'

"You idiot!" hissed Deryn as she finished the knot on the temporary bandage that was already red. "I could have finished Victor off myself! Now 6 men are dead and we're the only suspects. Who do you think the police will blame for Laughing Horse's' main 'waiters' being dead? Obviously the waiters of the rival restaurant, the Cantal Mouse! If it isn't us being arrested, I'll be some of the others!"

Just then the sounds of horses' hooves echoed through the night. Sebastian and Deryn both froze. They were behind the car and wouldn't be immediately visible, but the dead bodies everywhere would be.

"What do we do?" asked Sebastian, looking frantic.

"Run. Leave the car, leave the shipment. Run and don't look back." said Deryn calmly. "On my count. One, two three!"

With that Deryn moved from her crouching position and sprinted across into the surrounding trees. To her horror, Sebastian followed her. She couldn't stop now to shoo him away so just kept running as fast as she could and as quietly as she could, too. Luckily, when they were running for their lives and freedom, Sebastian could keep very quiet.

Once the sounds of policemen were long behind them, Deryn finally stopped, drawing to a close, panting heavily, feeling the adrenaline leave her. She could feel the blood from her headwound drip, and with the departure of the alertness, came the sleepy feeling that required her to shut her eyes and sleep awhile. The pain came back too and Deryn slumped against a rock.

"What are you doing?" asked Sebastian. "We have to go."

"No, we're fine. We'll go back to the city in the morning. Claim we went for a hike. If we come back now, all covered in blood right after six people have been found dead, we'll get arrested." said Deryn, faintly.

Sebastian looked guilty. "About that. Getting back to the city may be difficult."

Deryn threw him a plaintive look. "What did you do, Sebastian?"

"Well, you see, I might have, accidentally, forgetfully, in the heat of the battle—"

"Get on with it."

"Right. As you say Derek. I think, I might have, maybe, left my identification pass in the car."

Deryn looked up at him! "You idiot!" she yelled, and winced briefly at how high the last syllable had been. "How thick must you be to leave that there! Now they know that you've perpetrated the crime! Better yet, now you can't get back into the city!"

"If you haven't noticed, I was a little pre-occupied!" spat the Spanish man, 'You know, in saving your life?"

Deryn punched him. Hard. "Shut up, you moron. You've got to keep it on you at all times, like me. Why would you even put it down!"

Deryn rummaged in her pockets to back up her claim of always having it. It wasn't there. She patted frantically around all of her pockets and crannies it may have gotten stuck in but it seemed to have disappeared for good.

"Shit." She swore eloquently.

Sebastian looked smug. "You've got to keep it on you at all times, like me." He mimicked, with a smirk on his face.

"If you didn't notice, I was slightly pre-occupied with making sure I wasn't killed by a man twice my size. My ID falling out of my pocket wouldn't have even registered on my scale of things to notice. You have no excuse. You were in the car, all that time." said Deryn, coldly, but her heart wasn't in it. Dr Barlow would never forgive her for a crime of that magnitude. She was doomed. The mission would have to be abandoned and she would be a convict. No amount of diplomatic blethering could get her out of this situation.

Sebastian looked down and there were tears in his eyes. Deryn sighed; perhaps she was being a little harsh. "My dad is going to kill me for this. My body will be chucked into the bay and no one would know. Hell, he'd probably take on Al Capone to kill me."

"Dad?" asked Deryn with a frown. "I thought you said that your parents died."

Sebastian grinned. "I said my mum was dead and I didn't talk about my dad. You just assumed that he was also dead."

Deryn looked suspicious. "So who is your father?" she asked, leaning upwards.

"Danny Martins."

Deryn was sure her jaw had dropped. This was not on. No wonder Sebastian had gotten so much slack at the restaurant. Still, it didn't change the fact that Sebastian had done nothing but be useless since he got on the mission.

"Brilliant. Just brilliant. Does your identity pass identify him as your father?" Deryn asked, as a cold thought occurred to her.

"Yes." said Sebastian and Deryn swore loudly.

"Tarnation, that's not good. The whole speakeasy joint will get shut down!" Not that Deryn really cared for the selling of alcohol or the money gained from it, but the people who had been so good to her and friendly didn't deserve to be caught. Not when it would barely make a dent in the crime in the city.

Sebastian looked desperate. "What do we do?" he asked.

Deryn quickly run the plan through her brain. What would Alek or Volger do? Then it came to her. Neither of them would have done it, but it was their only solution. "We have to steal the passes back, before they can take it to the city."

Sebastian stared at her. "You've got to be joking me."

Deryn shook her head and staggered to her feet. "Come on. Let's make a plan."

(X)

Which is why she was currently hiding behind a newspaper stand in tiny local town, Linda Mar. She hoped that her distraction for the police officers would be enough for Sebastian to get in their and steal back their passes.

If it wasn't, they were done for. It seemed like the policemen had gone so Deryn quickly unclipped her braces, stripped off her bloodstained shirt and stole one of the laundry shirts that hung in the alleyway behind her. It didn't fit but it made her look more like a local. It also hid her bloodstained bandage, under its long, baggy sleeves. She pulled at her trousers and probed the headwound. It seemed to have clotted and stopped pouring with blood, but her blonde hair was partially red now.

Finding a leaking gutter, Deryn shut her eyes and mouth before submerging her head under it. She rubbed the blood out of her hair and then out of her hands, with some relief. She looked more normal now, albeit, soaked through.

The town was deserted; at 3 in the morning, it was unlikely that many residents would be awake, especially since it wasn't a large town like 'Frisco. Deryn rubbed her eyes, it wasn't like this was an odd time to be awake for her, but she was dead knackered. She wondered what her mother would say if she could see Deryn now.

Deryn strolled out into the main road, whistling quietly, like a local. She tucked her hands in her pockets and casually walked out of the main centre. She passed the police van and the driver even nodded at her! Luckily there were no policemen, who would have been more suspicious. She nodded back and continued to walk out of town.

As she reached the edge of the forest, she heard a crack behind her. She whirled around, hands held high, clenched in fists. A boy with reddish-brown hair lazily put up his hands and drawled, in a distinctly British accent, "Calm down Deryn. It's not like I'm going to hurt you."

Deryn smirked. "Alek. How grand to see you again. Finally get bored of sitting around doing nothing all day?"

Alek scoffed but kissed her passionately. "God's wounds, I missed you. Insults and all."

She laughed and twirled her fingers through his near shoulder length hair. "You're growing it out!" she said, in surprise.

He rolled his eyes. "Not likely. Just haven't had the time to cut it. I'm chasing some case of six dead bodies abandoned near San Andreas Lake, where we had gotten a tip-off of a moonshine delivery. You wouldn't know anything about that would you?"

Deryn smirked and tugged at his tie. "I might. It depends."

"How much?" he said, his voice a near whisper.

"A kiss, my good man." said Deryn with a smirk.

"What type of kiss?" Alek asked. "A kiss on the hand? The shoulder? The neck? The cheek? The nose? Or the lips?" With each example, he demonstrated it and Deryn had trouble staying still.

"I have your information, my good sir," said Deryn, "You need look no further. It was I. Have you identified the bodies yet?"

"No," said Alek, "Haven't the time. A person covered in blood just darted in front of the police vehicle who looked very distinctly drunk."

Deryn had to suppress laughter at Alek's smile. "Well Alek," she said, conversationally unbuttoning his shirt, "If you identify the large one with three gunshot wounds, you'll have found Victor Samuels who caused the murder of the 5 men who were found dead under mysterious circumstances over the past month. The other five are his acquaintances and rum-runners for the Laughing Horse."

"Very good to know. Six less criminals to catch. Out of interest," said Alek as Deryn massaged his chest, "Whose blood was it?"

"Mine. And a bit of Victor's."

Alek immediately pulled away. "What! Deryn, how are you injured?"

Deryn shook her head. "It's nothing. A headwound and a gunshot to the arm. I'll get it fixed when I get back to my speakeasy."

Alek looked despaired. "That's not nothing!"

Deryn rolled her eyes. "If I were Dylan Sharp, it would be nothing."

"Yes, but you aren't. You're mine, Deryn." said Alek and with that, promptly kissed her.

(X)

She met with Sebastian again at dawn, distinctly more disheveled than she had been. He'd managed to retrieve their passes. Alek had reassured her that if she used the entrance to San Francisco from San Bruno, they wouldn't be overly questioned or searched if they presented the guard with a couple of coins.

Once back at the Cantal Mouse, Deryn's wounds' were patched up as best as an old army medic could achieve. Her head wound disappeared in about two weeks without any adverse effects on her reasoning.

Deryn had gotten her information in two months and Alek finished his information collected three weeks after hers. With that, they left to go back to London. Deryn had sworn she wouldn't return to America before, and that had proved to be utterly wrong. Instead, Deryn hoped she wouldn't have to return to America. The New World posed a little too much excitement and not enough fabrications for Deryn's liking.