Still with that stupid grin on his face, Jacob shot his rope launcher from the tracks to a nearby roof. He ziplined over and jumped up to survey his surroundings. With a deep inhale he took off at a sprint, jumping over chimneys and smaller gaps between buildings making his way to Southwark. Once he reached one of the hideouts for his Rooks he jumped down and banged on the door loud enough for the whole block to hear.
"Rooks! To me!" He yelled in glee. Many men and women in his gang flooded around to hear what their leader had to say. "I have news that those Blighters came back to our territory. What do you say we remind them they don't belong here any more?" He riled up his group who cheered and shouted. They would follow Jacob Frye to the ends of the earth. "We'll take to the streets, in plan sight! Let's show them who they are messing with!" More cheers. Jacob was grinning from ear to ear. He was always the more reckless one of the Frye twins. A punch first and ask questions later type of fellow.
The gang, with Jacob at the head, sauntered down the street towards their rival gang's newly claimed hideout. This was there city and they were all willing to fight for it back. They stopped just outside the house.
"My dear Blighters. I thought we had an understanding." He paused, seeing if someone would answer. Nothing. "This place belongs to the Rooks and we are prepared to take it again. Now, who is the one in charge?" A single man walked out. He was a big brute, dressed in a nice red coat signifying he was a Blighter.
"Mister Frye. Was wondering when you'd show your ugly mug." He tilted his head from side to side, stretching his neck. Jacob frowned and acted offended by the statement.
"Well if it's a gang war you want, it's a gang war you shall get Mister… uh.." He waited for a response.
"Harrison." The brute replied. He spit in the direction of Jacob then knocked on the door behind him. The windows opened up to reveal snipers while men and women came around the corners and through the house. It looked to be about an even fight, but something wasn't right. Jacob scanned the area and notice the Blighters weren't his only problem. A couple Templars stood in the back, arms crossed, watching the scene play out.
Jacob's face turned serious, his Rooks restless behind him. "Well Mister Harrison, this is your last chance to walk away, unless you want to end up like the former, Octavia Plumb."
"I'll take my chances." Harrison growled. "Fire!" He shouted and the snipers started the war. The Rooks rushed in clashing with Blighters on their way to the house. Jacob ran right to Harrison, leader against leader.
Jacob Frye had the upper hand being smaller and faster, but the brute had the strength. One false move and Jacob would be on the ground. He tightened his fist around his brass knuckles and went right for the brute's smug face. He dodged at the last second, causing him to drop his guard on the left. Jacob swung around and kneed him in the ribs. All the time he spent in the underground fight club certainly paid off. The brute staggered backwards but it would take more than that to take him down. More shots where heard and Jacob ducked as a bullet whizzed right by his head. That was just the opening Harrison needed. He struck Jacob hard on the left ear causing him to fall. There was a slight ringing and Jacob tilted his head to the left to try to release the pressure. The brute was about to strike again when a Rook came to help. Outmatched, the brute took him down quickly giving Jacob a chance to get back to his feet. He glanced behind the Blighter and saw the Templars still just observing. What was going on? Shaking off the slight headache he rushed low and rammed into Harrison, he barely moved and inch. As soon as the brute had his hands on either side of Jacob, he realized the mistake he just made. He was lifted then slammed down on his stomach causing the breath to leave him. The Blighter laughed. Jacob gritted his teeth. He was not losing this fight.
Jacob stood up immediately, catching good ol' Harrison of guard, and knocked his fist, brass knuckles and all, right in his jaw. He felt a pop, which most likely indicated a dislocation. Jacob bounced back a step, waiting to see his next move. His ear bleeding, his chest bruised, his Rooks still standing. They made it into the house and cleared the snipers; they were just about finished here.
Harrison turned towards Jacob, holding his already swollen jaw. He charged and went for a swing but Jacob was one step a head. He ducked low and hit high. The brute fell on his back with a thud.
"Ding ding. We have a winner!" Jacob cockily announced. The Rooks cheered, the rest of the Blighters standing in horror. He jumped on a parked buggy near by to address the crowd. "My name is Jacob Frye! And as of this moment, you all work for me!" The Rooks hollered and hooted in joy. The remaining Blighters looked to each other before nodding and laying down their weapons. Everyone wants to be on the winning team, and that team was Jacob Frye's. He grinned again, adrenaline still pumping through his veins. He jumped down and slightly winced, feeling the beating he just took. Walking over Jacob clasped hands with the second in command in Southwark. "Who's up for a pint in celebration?! My treat." Jacob beamed. Of course, no Rook would turn down free booze from Mister Frye. The Rooks pranced down the street to the nearest pub, filling it with shouts and glee.
Jacob felt the hair on the back of his neck stand and he whirled around, narrowing his eyes. The Templars were gone. He shrugged and joined his gang in the bar, throwing almost all his money on the counted to buy a round for everyone. They toasted, sang, and drank until the sun was gone and the moon lit through the clouds above. The Rooks bid their farewells and Jacob was alone to walk the streets back to Whitechapel.
A little drunk, he slightly swayed as he walked, feeling proud of the day events. A few carriages trotted by, most people weren't on the streets this late. He glanced at his pocket watch; 11pm. Evie should be back by now, at least he told her to be back by 11, and Jacob was sure she would like to hear all about his day and most likely scold him while taking care of his injuries. He turned a corner and a board struck him across the face. He fell to the ground, stunned. Stars danced around his vision as he groaned and tried to get up but everything went black as he was struck again.
Henry Green slowed the horse to a halt outside the Whitechapel train station. Evie Frye was asleep. She was leaning on him, head on his shoulder. He gave her a couple more minutes before deciding to wake her. The last thing he wanted was her brother ruining the moment. He softly kissed her on the top of her head before gently shaking her awake.
"Miss Frye, we're at the station." He whispered. She took a deep breath before sitting up. Wordlessly she hopped out of the carriage. She took a couple steps then turned towards Henry.
"Thank you Mister Green, it was a memorable night." Evie halfheartedly smiled.
"Memorable indeed. You are a great dancer." Henry smiled back. When Evie averted her gaze downward he spoke again. "Don't worry about Miss Throne. I'll look into it; it might just be a rouse. I'll be by tomorrow. We'll figure this out." She returned his gaze.
"You're right. Have a good night, Henry." She slipped. "Mister Green." Evie turned and walked back to the train.
"You as well… Evie." He held a somber smile and waited until she wasn't seen before snapping the reins.
Evie stepped off the platform and onto their train. Her brother would get a kick out of what happened tonight, though she'll only tell him the important bits. She was sure she would never hear the end of it with Jacob if Lucy Throne really was alive. She should have been more careful.
Agnes greeted her sitting at her desk, doing whatever it is she actual does around there. "Good evening Miss Frye. I hope you had an eventful night at the gala."
"To say the least." Evie replied, not willing to say more. She gazed over at the coat rack and noticed Jacob's things weren't there. He should have been back before she was. "Agnes, have you seen Jacob?" She questioned, wounding what trouble he has gotten into now.
"Not since this morning Miss Frye. He did mention going to Southwark with the Rooks." She answered.
"Hmm. He's probably drinking. I'll tell the conductor to swing by Southwark station to pick him up." Evie left to talk with the conductor before settling in her car with her books and documents.
Once the train reached Southwark, Evie decided to hunt down her twin. Jacob not showing up until early morning was nothing unusual but she just had this feeling. Call in twin intuition. She walked out of the station and immediately saw a Rook at the corner. Walking over the Rook was first to greet.
"Nice to see you Miss Evie." He smiled at her. The gang was really Jacobs, but being his twin they both shared the intimidation that came with the name Frye; and she wasn't a push over. She had her share of fights and held the respect of the Rooks.
"Have you seen Jacob?" Evie got right to the point.
"Yeah, we 'ad a couple pints at that there pub after the Blighter war. He was headin' back to Whitechapel last I heard."
"Do you know what time that was?"
"Mmm… 'bout an hour ago?" He thought. "Somethin' the matter?"
"He hasn't show up. I fear he might be in an alley somewhere passed out drunk." She flatly stated, a little irritated with the situation.
"I'll gather up some Rooks an see if we can find em for ya Miss." He whistled and a couple more men showed up. They discussed then left Evie to search herself.
Walking down the streets this late at night was actually relaxing to Evie. She had a lot on her mind and now was good as any to try to sort it all out. Half paying attention, something small ran into her. She looked down then behind her to see a little boy running off towards the station. It was one of the kids she helped liberate from the factory. It didn't take long for her to catch up to him and she grabbed his arm.
"Thomas!" The boy tried to fight her.
"Lemme go! Lemme go!" He was frantic. "I swear I saw nothin'!"
"Thomas relax, it's me." She knelt down to his level, placing both of her hands on his shoulders. The boy blinked at her.
"Miss Evie!" The boy lit up at the sight of her. "I-I was just running to get you!" He huffed. "They… they…"
"It's ok. Just take a breath." Evie softened her expression even though inside she was starting to worry. Thomas took a deep, overly dramatic, breath then let it out. This kid was so much like Jacob she wanted to roll her eyes. He took another big breath and opened his mouth.
"I was walking back to the orphanage because it was getting pretty late and I saw Mister Jacob and he was walking in the street when these two men came out of nowhere and clocked him right in the head with a wooden board and he did get up and then men picked him up and put him in a carriage and took off that way!" He said all this in one breath and pointed down the street in the direction he said the carriage went.
"Can you tell me what these men looked like? Where they Blighters?" Evie pressed, now very concerned for her other half.
"Not Blighters, at least I don't think. They had dark coats with this red looking cross on it." He told her. Templars. "Is… Is Mister Jacob going to be ok?" Thomas looked so upset.
"Of course. I'll make sure of that." Evie smiled and ruffled the little boys hair. She stood up. "Now get home, it's late." She tossed him a coin and with a smile the boy went running the other way. "Now, to get my twat of a brother." Evie said in annoyance. Could this night get any worse?