Good morning my freaky darlings! It's 0100 hours, what's the 'O' stand for? Oh... I should probably go to bed. Way past my bed time kiddies. Just joke's, nah, I'll stay up all night and morning if I wanted to, just to write this for you all! I've been away for a week, and came back with a cold, but I'm all good now. My days have been busy at work since Sunday, and now I'm back home from a crazy Saturday shift. I mean honestly, don't people have washing to do on the weekend? Game's to play? Story's to write? Because I do, damn it! :D
I'v been wanting to post this for a few days, and now I finally have access to the internet again, mwah!
Back to business! If you haven't seen already, I have posted a BONUS chapter for White Wolf in my Drabbles story, called "Quarantine Files". You'll find it on my account page.
It's called Leon Vs Jake (Knife fight)... and since you asked, slash. (Please read and let meh know what ya'll think! I need to know what my freaky darlings think of the Slash so I can progress it in PWW.)
I'll just leave that there ^^^^
Chapter 12 is a flash back to when our boys go listening in on the meeting before the whole roof top sniper shooting, I'm currently moving from playing Moonlight Sonata on my keyboard, to writing chapter 12 AND chapter 13, to music, to writing, to playing "I Am Alive" on my Xbox, going to work, coming back and repeat. So.. yeah.
Any of you have ideas for "Jake's Place"? I'd like to hear for Chapter 13 :D Again, all feedback is appreciated, I try to improve everything that you point out :)
This is my 'stress free' zone, so I hope you enjoy!
CHAPTER 12
Midnight on my own
[FlashBack]
You could tell a lot about the character of a person just by the way they walk, whether one would drag their feet and throw up the dirt under their shoes with each brushed and careless placement on the ground, or if one picked up their steps, transferring their weight from ankle to toes in a rolling motion that would result to remain soundless, the differences between gender and their life style. A model would place each heeled foot in front of the other like they were walking along on a very narrow plank, the movement would follow up to their hips in a swayed dance. Someone who dragged their feet would suggest either over confidence, or laziness that was either as it is, or forced to appear as they strolled too casually and carelessly out of a store with bags of unpaid for items.
Measured, even and steady steps were those of a person who knew what they were doing, where they were going, and who know their surroundings, what ever their objective is can be either good or bad intent, as knowledge can be both resourceful, getting to where you need to be just in time, or powerful, planning and plotting an act against the law.
People will react accordingly to a sudden fight or flight event should one arise, based on their personality which will reflect the jobs they have, the career they are following. A secret operation would be commencing in an office party where guests would wear suits and elegant gowns, make small talk of business and the latest state news, laughing and drinking wine, special agents would be concealed as guests to look for their target who's identity is unknown.
People will react accordingly to a sudden fight or flight event.
Make some noise, cause a sudden accident, slip past a waitress and 'anciently' knock the tray of wine glasses to the ground. The smash would cause people to pause in their small talk, turn and shocked at the unexpected. Thus far the agents have narrowed down three suspects of their target based on their information, and as the glass sounds its loud impact with the polished floor, two of the suspects jump at the noise, turning to look with a frown.
The third is not fazed.
The man excuses himself from the group, moving out of the room with the words of 'fresh air'. 10 minutes later, the man was restrained and taken into custody after an attempt assassination on the dinner's host. The operation came to a close and was signed off by the organisation and its agents, the reports now filed away as evidence of the operation that had taken place.
If you sit there long enough, in the middle of a food court, you'll begin to notice things that you wouldn't have seen even on the third glance.
Even in the darkness, shadowed and out of the lights bubbles cast by the street lights, Leon could see from his point of view parked on the edge of Fredric Street - the three shadowed and unidentified figures walk down an ally behind block 62. They were no sleepwalkers, no group of thugs looking for a stray person or building to break into, they were trained, and they were armed. Their steps were full of dangerous knowledge, their posture weary.
Leon glanced down at his watch behind the tinted windows of the Jeep, seeing it click to 10:50pm. His other hand rested on the steering wheel, fingers quietly tapping a rhythm on the thick leather, and he looked back up, eyeing the men across the street as they disappeared into the darkness that the ally shadowed.
"When did you get shot?"
Leon looked over to the passenger side, his brow arched briefly at the sudden and unexpected question. Jake wasn't looking at him, seated in a slouched position and eying the eery darkness of the area which was void of any traffic or people apart from the three that just moved down the ally, heading to the old building. The question was just curious, and a little careless, causing Leon to get the impression that Jake didn't like the silence that had settled for the time that they'd been sitting there.
Leon was quiet for a moment as he returned his gaze back to the Ally across the street, the memory of the ex-mercenaries question flashing through his mind, and he thought for a moment on how to answer, because he could answer, the memory didn't hold the haunting sway over him like it did before, and he didn't see a reason not to trust Jake with the question. "Back when I was a cop." He finally said.
"You were a cop?" Jake looked at him with a hint of disbelief, before looking away and accepting with a light scoff. "Of course you were. Following your dad's footsteps, huh?" Jake again asked, hands fidgeting slightly out of habit in their fingerless gloves.
Leon shook his head, the movement small as he answered with a light, "No." There was little activity outside, and Leon again glanced at his watch, seeing that a whole 60 seconds had gone past. "My farther never wanted me to join the force."
"So you were a rebel kid, huh?" Jake huffed a single chuckle, before shrugging. "Y'know, I've wondered, have you always had that hair cut, hero?" Jake looked over just as a amused blue glare was shot his way by the man under question. "So what happened with your shoulder? Was it a bank robbery?"
Leon signed, his hand pausing its beat on leather before resuming. "Raccoon City happened, my first day with the RPD."
Jake raised an eye brow in surprise. "And I thought my luck was bad." Jake shook his head, smirking, though the darkness inside the vehicle cloaked them to one another like water, but the ex-mercenary didn't miss the amused gleam that faintly sparked behind the older mans fringe, or the rhythm of drumming fingers on the leather covered steering wheel.
"Annette Birkin."
Jake looked back to the agent, this time a frown marking his brow in thought. "Birkin? You mean Sherry's...?" Jake's question trailed off as he eyed the agent, though not seeing much as the man tilted his head down, dirty blond strands shielding his face as the older man again glanced at his watch.
"-Mom, yeah." Leon replied, mentally reading the numbers shown to him on the wrist device, 10:55pm. "Who would'a thought a scientist would carry around a Lightning Hawk, not a very original piece of lab equipment, huh?" He said idly, glancing back up across the street and spying another car pull up, head lights off, probably to avoid detection from a distance.
"Sherry's mom shot you?" Jake asked, now looking at the agent in confusion. Mentally wincing at the same time, a magnum round to the shoulder would explain the extent of scarring tissue Jake saw that night in the agents apartment, and the ex-mercenary can't say he'd ever been shot before, but the thought was never pretty.
"If its any context.." Leon narrowed his eyes at the men that got out of the car, another three in total, though non of them wore a large trench coat. He further frowned at one particular man, the biggest of the group, pausing to look their way as the others moved down the ally. Leon couldn't see his identity from the distance and darkness, but an unknown shiver made it self known as it traveled up his spine. "-She wasn't aiming for me." Leon mumbled, seeing the man disappear down the ally.
Jake watched the agent for a moment, before turning his gaze at the ally as the last man moved in its shadows, fingers now itching with the change and wanting to do something about it.
"Shall we?" Leon asked, glancing at the younger man seated beside him.
Jake didn't answer, but then he didn't need to. Both Agent and ex-mercenary quietly and cautiously opened their car doors, closing them just as such before making their way across the street and onto the dark side walk, a few meters away from the two black vehicles which really looked out of place and screamed something was goin' on here. Without needing any further communication, the two men slipped closer to the wall and down the ally next to the one that the other men took.
"You never did tell me who sent you the meeting details." Jake said quietly as they moved down the narrow ally, no feeling of danger arose at this time, but Jake was carefull, watchful, listening for everything. The dark made it hard to see, but he took that with the knowledge that they too would be hard to spot by whom ever was around.
"It's not important." Leon said as quietly, clearly brushing of the subject and making a point that he didn't want to talk about it.
Jake narrowed his eyes at the agent, somewhat untrustworthy. "My arse." He growled back, another one of his ways of saying bullshit. Because they were walking in on a enemy's meeting, good forbid that these men make such civilised acts, and Jake didn't want to walk into some kind of trap. He trusted the agent, but only to an extent, he didn't trust the agents contacts.
At the end they took a right to the next ally, which would lead them directly to the building listed in their interest. With Leon ahead of the younger man, he paused at the corner suddenly and held out an arm, stopping Jake from moving and pulling them both back against the wall, both of their breathing hitching and quieting.
Footsteps.
Leon exchanged a look with Jake, seeing the man reach for his gun, but the agent stilled the others movements, bringing up his free hand to hold a finger against lips, before surprising the ex-mercenary and pulling out his survival knife, and then Jake understood. They didn't want to compromise their position and there for throw away chance they had of gaining information. This was a stealth move that they needed to take.
The footsteps grew closer to the corner they were behind, and Leon pressed himself up closer, listening intently and counting the steps, his grip on the blade's handle tightening. Jake beside the agent was tense, and it didn't help when there was no light provided which would warrant a shadow of the man walking down the next ally, so Jake placed his hand over his hand gun, just in case things didn't go to plan.
The brushed footsteps, somewhat dragging on the pavement, were two sounds short of rounding the corner, when they suddenly stopped. A gruff Russian accent rang out quietly, calling.
"Hey Dimitri, what are you doing over there?"
"Scouting, idiot, the fuck does it look like I'm doing?" This voice was closer, telling the two concealed that it was the man just around the corner.
"Why the hell would I know, asshole? Look, the big guy want's us at our posts, otherwise it's your arse in the labs."
There was a grumble in Russian, before the footsteps wandered off, back the way they'd came. Leon allowed his grip on the survival knife to loosen, before shooting Jake another look. It wasn't until another moment later when they allowed themselves to relax, the footsteps fading all together. Leon signed, sheathing the blade.
Jake freed himself from behind the agents arm irritably, stepping around the older man to glance down the next ally, and pleased to find it empty. He looked over his shoulder before nodding at the agent, and moved down the wider passage, which had more than one closed entry and exit point to shops and other buildings, though all the doors were closed. Jake started down the area, ignoring the look that the agent gave him.
With no more problems they made it easily down the wider ally, almost too easily, but the thought was brushed aside as soon as it came, because at the end of that ally, they walked up the the building with the letters 'Watchers Works' printed on a wooden banner, old, and missing the 'a' and 'r' letters. The company owning the building had moved some time ago, an hadn't been brought by another, since then leaving it empty and abandoned. Graffiti littered the walls, and the windows had cracks etched in the glass.
There was a light within the building, faint, warn, and occupied. The door was slightly ajar, the shadow of a man stood partly aside one of the windows, and quiet voices sounded.
The agent and the ex-mercenary crouched and moved silently, Jake took position by the unoccupied window and Leon kneeled next to the open door, peering in through the gap unknowingly provided. They exchanged another look before focusing, at least 15 men were inside the building, somewhat surprising Leon with the number, both Russian and American alike, some were sitting around a table playing cards, others were sorting through cases and pulling out all sorts of weapons, and the other few were standing.
Leon knew the investigation just got a lot more complicated, because there was more than one group at work here, and Leon wasn't sure if it was a meeting, but rather, a transaction. Was Ada a part of this? And how or why?
"That's a lot of fire power, where does he get all this?" One man asked, nodding to the others who were sorting through the gear.
"Don't ask questions." The larger man from the ally in the street threatened deeply, his back to the door and identity shadowed by the way he was standing against the light. "Were you followed?"
The first man shook his head. "No, not a single person in the street. It's quiet tonight."
"Don't assume. He doesn't hire men who assume too much." The shadowed man said darkly, before repeating, each work thick with warning. "Were you followed?"
The first man changed suddenly, his face becoming serious and his tone was certain. "No."
"Good, so you have his payment, then?" The question was tainted with an order, a threat, should the other not come clean with their end of the deal. This was business after all.
In answer, the other man took the offered silver brief case from another who stood behind him, holding the case in front of him to show his side of the deal.
Leon watched from his position at the door, frowning in deep thought. There was something striking about the larger mans voice, almost familiar, almost sickening, but what ever the thought was didn't seem to give him any hints, couldn't place a name or a face to the feeling. The agent watched as the man took a step forward to the other, and partly out of the shadows, white hair brushed back first caught his attention, and Leon watched as a muscled arm covered in thick black leather reach out to take the silver brief case.
Very faint clicks sounded as the man turned up the numbers that locked the case, before the levers came up with a faint snap and the man opened the lid, silence stretched on for a moment, and one could almost see the nervousness and the tension that gathered in the air.
The case was closed carefully and the locks secured with more faint clicks. The white haired man didn't say anything, but a faint nod could be seen confirming the payment complete.
"What does Demarko what with stuff like that anyway? That shit's dangerous." The first man said, relaxing as the deal was apparently finished.
Jake thought he must have heard wrong, but anger and fury rose like wild fire when he knew that what he heard, was completely right. Neither he or Leon were prepared, however, when the larger man suddenly took something from the folds of the black leather jacket, and a muffled gun shot sounded, not a moment later, the first man fell to the ground with blood pooling, and tension was painfully obvious as the two separate groups pulled guns on each other.
"Don't ask questions." Came the dark tone of the man holding the case, small puffs of smoke trailing from the silenced hand gun. "What happens, and what is spoken, stays in this room. If you step out of line I will personally hunt you down and kill you myself. Marco runs this city now, you answer to him, or you answer to me. Clean out."
[End of FlashBack]
Who IS this guy? And what's in the case? Oh temptation, temptation...
I think I've been eating way to many chocolate freckles... but they're so good! Yum!
